Just Us

Twenty-Four

Chapter twenty-four
Isla

            I'm pretty sure the world's ending because I've gotten myself into detention for the first time. When Mr. Gomez had called me into his office, it wasn't about Ty but about me skipping school. He found out that Isaiah was the one who called in sick for me instead of my parents and since I had a squeaky clean record, they wouldn't put truancy on my record if I agreed to sit for detention every Monday for three weeks.

I thought it was a pretty good deal, that was until I realised detention meant sitting with the students I never mingled with. Or to be more precise, with the students that despised me. They knew I didn't belong here, they could sniff me out of the crowd instantly. I hoped to God they didn't make detention any more dreadful than it was.

I was still shaking from seeing Ty just now but the bomb Mr. Gomez dropped on me about detention managed to distract me from having an episode.

My fingers gripped onto my charcoal pencil tightly as I heard the voices of the students behind me. They may or may not be talking about me and my relationship to Ty but I choose to be ignorant to it, focusing on the way my pencil brushed against the cartridge paper.

If I was going to be here for another 3 hours, I'd have to get my mind focused on something other than their incessant whispering.

I placed my pencil to paper and for the first time in a while, I don't seem to be blocked by any thoughts. The tip of my pencil had a mind of its own and I allowed it to lead my hand. It takes me to a safe place and I realise I'm drawing a hand, making out the brief sketch of fingers.

I smudge my fingers against the charcoal with precision, adding depth, bringing the drawing to life bit by bit. And then I'm back to adding the details meticulously. Calluses that I've grown to memorise on another's hand by running my fingers against it continuously and the lines on the palms I've traced many times in the past couple months. I've committed the most insignificant details of him to memory without knowing and now I'm pouring them out onto the paper.

I'm oblivious to my surroundings, being completely enthralled by the way my body relaxes, delving into my safe zone and drawing hands I feel safest holding. A vibration manages to snap me out of the artistic haze that came over me and for a moment, I stare at my drawing.

A smile teases my lips. He may have ruined many things for me but being around Corey has made me realise that I should give myself more credit. I trusted another guy and that's open doors for me, mentally. Yes, I'd still have the occasional episodes. But I didn't today. Even though I was faced head-on with my biggest trigger.

That was a win in my book.

And now I've completed a drawing. I've drawn without feeling like I was incomplete. Like a part of me wasn't missing anymore. Maybe I was becoming whole again. Maybe the road to recovery wouldn't be as rocky as I thought it'd be. Especially since I know I'm not alone in this now.

The vibration stops and one brief buzz gets me to fish out my phone.

Corey: Hey, I've been trying to reach you. Is everything okay?

Corey finally texts after leaving a missed call.

Isla: In detention. Principal found out Isaiah's been calling in sick for me.

Corey: When do you get off?

Isla: 6

Corey: Okay. I'll pick you up.