Hidden In Plain Sight

We Have A Booth Now?

"I can only make the choices that others have already taken. I have become a pawn in my own game."

 Dad stayed silent for the rest of the car ride. It wasn't my fault that he didn't like my answer. It wasn't like I was lying or anything like that. He knew that. I watched the buildings become grey blurs as we drove down to Haven High. I quickly gave myself a one over. I fixed my white jacket collar and flattened my red plaid skirt against my legs. I adjusted and tightened the tie around my neck that happened to be the same colour as my skirt. I checked one last time to see if my white blouse was transparent and thanking the lord it wasn't.

'I wish your mother would learn to actually be helpful for once.' Dad mumbled, turning the car to the left.

I sighed. 'It's not her fault, y'know.'

Dad gave me a quick glance. 'I suppose you think all this is because of me.'

I furrowed my eyebrows. 'Well, you certainly didn't help.'

Dad scoffed. 'What was I supposed to do, Helena?' he demanded. 'Your mother is crazy. No, scratch that. She's insane.' he spat. My heart clenched and I balled my hands into fists. 'Don't you ever go blaming me again, you hear me, Helana?' Then, without warning, Dad grabbed onto my hand and started to rub circles across it.

When we arrived at Haven, the usual pit in my stomach opened up again. I really hated this place. As I was about to get out of the car, Dad locked the doors again, trapping me inside. A look of worry adorned on his face.

'You sure you'll be okay? You know you can always call me if you need me.' Dad offered with the kind smile I had missed so much over the past months. I almost accepted the offer, before remembering where he had been.

I forced a smile. 'I think I'm okay, Dad. Thanks though.'

'What're you going to do if you run into any trouble or the amount o-'

I held my hand up to signal for him to stop. 'If worse comes to worse, I'll just call Mom.'

Dad glared at me as I slammed the car door shut and strode towards Haven's front doors. Another year, another annoyance. It's not that I didn't like learning, I just didn't like people. Or paintings. Or pictures. I didn't like mirrors either. Yeah, reflective objects as a whole just didn't sit well with me.

When I entered the building, I was met with confused looking ninth graders and ecstatic twelfth graders. I took in a deep breath, held it in for five seconds, before letting it all out. Haven was honestly shaped like a prison, but looked like a castle. It even had dorm rooms. I headed towards the library where I agreed to meet with Miss Zoe, our mental health teacher. She hated being called by her last name because of her recent "divorce" so she demands that all students call her by her first name. Miss Zoe is one of the few teachers I happen to like and knows about my "situation". She was a small, plump woman with curly brown hair and a walking stick she liked to smack kids with. She had a great sense of humour and likes to pick favourites. I happen to be a favourite.

Miss Zoe was curled in a comfy chair at the back of the library, surrounded by three other students I recognized. Stewart Cantrell was a bit taller than me and is definitely considered a "ladies man". He had short brown hair and pale blue eyes. He was muscular, goofy and a boy I've known since I was three years old and he was five. Beside him was Shaun Manning. Though he was a year younger than me, he ended up skipping a grade and we shared the same classes. At first glance you'd assume he was a total nerd. In fact, he actually had one of the best senses of humour I've ever heard and was the exact opposite of shy. His hair was currently tied into a grey ball which he called a bun. From behind Shaun stood Reynard Lowe who we nicknamed Rey. He was the same height as Stewart and didn't talk much, but when he did people always listened. His red hair stuck out on the ends and honestly looked like he hadn't brushed it in forever. He looked exhausted. Ivy Hayward eyed me from beside the ginger. Her dyed green hair hung around her shoulders and seemed to flow from side to side. She sent a small nod my way with a wave. On the other side of them was Amber Schmidt. A small girl with a bigger heart that seemed to live on her sleeve. She grinned and called me over.