A Year Without Snow

-30-

Friday, 23rd December 2016 - 2nd part

And just like the previous Friday night, I found myself standing in the chilly snowless December darkness, once again because someone got punched, and once again I was in the middle of it all. And I was getting exhausted from it all.

What made me the maddest wasn't knowing what the basketball team thought of me because I couldn't care less about what those jocks conceived me as. Or what Carson had said, we never were that good of friends to start with. It was Bryson. Because it always Bryson. He told them everything, stuff he shouldn't have. My father and intimacy.

It didn't matter how much peace I tried to make with the subject. No matter how much I tried to forget it all. There always had to be something to remind me of that July night, and all I had lost that day. It seemed like the Universe had a weekly appointment to make me relieve it all.

At this point, I recognized that the only way to forget it all would be when this goddamn school year would be over and I left for college. I just wanted to start over. Away from this stupid town, where I had arrived twelve years ago, a sad little girl. From where I intended to leave, somehow just sad as I had arrived.

As those thoughts ran through my mind, a small tear fell down my cheek, but I quickly cleaned it with my jacket's sleeve. The last thing I wanted was for those boys to see me cry.

I took a deep breath and looked around. Dallas was seated in the sidewalk, with a piece of ice rested on his forehead. I smiled as I thought of him. My hero. He had been the one who punched Dylan.  Dylan was seated next to my messy-haired friend, with also a piece of ice set on his lip. Next to them was Carson, who had gained a privileged spot on my hate-list, right on the top two, just bellow Jack. He had put himself in the middle of the fight and Lucas had punched him in the gut, trying to stop him from hitting Dallas. Lucas was seated in the sidewalk too, next to Carson, with his head on his hands, with no sign of injuries. Melanie was standing in front of them, talking loudly with a mad expression on her face, just as a kindergartener teacher would do with her misbehaved students.

The rest of the girls, Grace, Sophie and Scar were inside and didn't seem to have noticed the commotion. Bryson had turned around the block between two storehouses, most likely to throw up. I turned on my heels and walked to the place he had gone, not worried if he was sick or not.

As I turned the corner I saw him seated on the floor, with his face hidden on his hands. I got closer to him and lightly quicked him on the foot, to catch his attention, he didn't look up and simply said.

"Go away, Melanie. I'm not in the right state to listen to your lectures." He said in a husky voice.

"What about my lecturers?" I asked, and he lifted his face to look at me.

He had watery eyes, flushed cheeks and his ginger hair in a mess. "Daisy." He said in a whisper and stood up.

I looked at him with disdain and asked, "Why?" I whispered, "Why would do that to me?"

He took a step closer to me, and I stepped back, but he grabbed my arm.

"I'm sorry, Daisy." Bryson apologized in a low voice.

"You're sorry?" I asked in an ironic tone, "You told those stupid boys about my deepest secret, about my father-! No! Not my secret, our secret!"

"It was not the whole team." He answered in a low voice.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, Bryson! See, I thought you had told fourteen guys? How many was it? Ten?"

"I only told Carson and Dallas." He said slowly. His calm and slow tone of voice was pissing me even more.