I Think I Love You

Chapter 16: Mia

Chapter 16: Mia

October 6th, 2019

As if the days couldn't go by any slower than before, the hours now move at a turtle's pace that I'm slowly drowning in. I can't seem to stop thinking about what happened with Mac. Forcing myself to stop, I watch the clock in Mrs. Walker's class, hoping the constant motion of the hands hypnotize me to think of anything else. She spent the last hour talking about the protest against gun violence, and protecting our schools and what it means for us to represent the students of America. Whenever the topic of school shootings came up in discussion, she'd always ask if we were comfortable to speak about action moving forward. If we ever needed to take a break from talking about it, she always encouraged us to take some time for ourselves. In the beginning, some students would find the need to walk out of the classroom, to which Mrs. Walker would soon follow after. I had to walk-out the first time she talked about the aftermath. Now, I'm able to stay in the classroom, only because the focus has shifted to talking about steps moving forward and not about the past or the actual shooting. I realize it's how I'm able to listen to Gwen talk about the march; she doesn't bring me back into a space where I feel frightened, but rather looks for justice. For the most part, it's the small triggers that no one else would know about. Like a green shirt, glasses on the floor, or pictures of the people I saw die. Those are the things I keep to myself and it's the details that bring flashbacks that I try to suppress, but unfortunately have no luck with. You'd think that nearly after a month, I would be better by now.

I hate thinking about the flashbacks so I shift my thoughts to last weekend. Gwen came over to tell me about the official approval for the march, which is why today Mrs. Walker is pressing us all to participate. And as hoped, we're all on board. We've all been affected by it, so there's no questioning why we shouldn't support. I guess it's a good thing Gwen wanted us to get a head start on making posters last week at the Civic Center. Ugh. I feel my face droop as I think of everything that happened on my front porch that evening. Brayden. I internally groan. Why'd you have to walk me to my door? I curse him for wanting to, and I hate myself for thinking it was okay. I replay what happened, and I imagine Abuela peeking through the window to get a front row seat to see what was going on between Mac and I, and Mac and Brayden. I close my eyes, because here we are again, back at square one. I guess I have to deal with it.

It's been two days since the last time we saw each other, and come to think of it, the last time I saw Brayden too. Not that seeing Brayden matters to me at all. I feel myself slump in my chair. I wish Mac would believe me. It's not what he thinks! What throws me off is that Mac is not the kind to get jealous either. So why now? For the most part, he's even-tempered, trusting, and stable. I always knew what to expect when I was with him. But lately, things have been off, and that's a hard pill to swallow. In his defense, I know I've been off too.

I glance at my phone for what might be the hundredth time today. I have the itch to check my phone every half hour or so to see if Mac has responded to any of my messages. This is how I know something's off, and I no longer feel secure. Thinking about everything, our conversations are feeling less and less organic, and as much as we say the words 'I love you', I can't help but think it's starting to feel hollow, which may or may not be due to our stagnant routine. Despite this, we have history, and it's hard to think that could change. Four years. He's always been there for me, even when I don't ask. And so, him not responding is foreign to me, so much that a pit grows in my stomach, portending what may come. I check my phone again. What if something tragic had happened to him? What if he's sick or got into an accident. That would be an easier explanation for why he hasn't been responding. No, that can't be I tell myself. If something like that were to happen, I'd have seen emergency vehicles outside his house but nothing out of the ordinary for the last few days. In fact, I saw his parents unloading groceries yesterday, and they didn't seem to hint at any misfortune. They seemed fairly chipper after running errands. Mac looks like a younger version of his dad, and that's how I imagine Mac looking in 20 years time with salt and pepper hair. And his mom is just the sweetest. Although Mac got his dad's looks, he got his mom's heart. Normally I would've called out to say hi and make small talk, but I figured now is not the best time. They didn't call out to me either. Or maybe they just didn't see me walking home. Mac is really close with his parents, and I wish I could reason it was because he was an only child but then again, I'm an only child and I have a dad who loves me but is admittedly too preoccupied with work, and a mom who left but we never speak of it. Naturally, Abuela came to the rescue, and I don't know what would have happened if she didn't. I start to remember what she said about bringing me to the park as a child and meeting Mac. A rush of nostalgia runs through me. "Mac" I whisper, "I still need you". I say it loud enough to give my thoughts a voice, as if somehow, he would hear it if I said it out loud. Nothing.