Miss Me Not

"So, let me get this straight, you threw a book at Katie because she was trashing me?" he asked, placing his hands on my shoulders to still the pacing I wasn’t even aware I was doing.

I nodded, not meeting his eyes.

"I'm glad," he said, lifting my chin with his fingers so I could see his eyes. "Not because you did it for me, but because the bitch deserved it for tormenting you. Was this the first time?"

I laughed sarcastically. "Not even close. I have a stack of notes at home, courtesy of her," I said without thinking.

His eyes narrowed at my words. "Please tell me you really broke her nose?" he finally said, exhaling.

"Um, it was definitely sitting on her face differently," I answered, cracking a smile.

"Good girl," he said, dropping a kiss on my upturned lips. "And you're sure you're not in trouble?"

"Positive. I was convinced I was doomed until Ms. Jones sailed in and saved the day. I guess I owe her, big time."

"It'd probably be a nice step if we didn’t refer to her by your nickname anymore," he said, smiling down at me.

"Truth," I said as he pulled me in for a more appropriate celebratory kiss.

Chapter twenty

My textbook-throwing incident was the main topic of conversation at school for days afterward. Katie returned to school with her nose in some kind of splint and both her eyes black and blue. She glared daggers at me, but kept her mouth closed. Her cronies sympathized with her, but I noticed they gave me plenty of space. I was no longer invisible or a shadow. Now I was the crazy, book-throwing freak, which turned out not to be all that bad when I realized that half the student body now seemed afraid of provoking me. I could have reassured them they were safe, that it had taken four long years to break me, so they were at least safe for another four years, but I enjoyed their silence, so I let them continue thinking I was one comment from throwing a book at them. Dean enjoyed my new reputation and often called me "Rocky." I wasn't a fan of sports movies, so I didn't have a clue what he meant, until he made me sit down with him one Saturday afternoon and watch all the films back to back. The movie marathon torture taught me one thing. I hated sports movies for a reason.

The three weeks leading up to Christmas break seemed almost dull in light of my book incident. My days with Dean flowed along, seeped in normalcy as we spent as many waking hours as we could together. Most days, he picked me up for school in the morning, and didn’t drop me off until late in the evening. Dinners at my house became obsolete as I dined with the Jackson family every evening. Luckily for me, they seemed to enjoy my company. Sarah would sit talking with me for hours at a time. Her conversations were always insightful, and always left me pondering them hours afterward.

The days would have been classified as picture perfect if they weren’t marred by the loss of my friendship with James. A couple of weeks following my outburst in class, I told Dean I couldn’t meet him for lunch because I needed to make sure James was okay. It had been weeks since I had talked to him, and the guilt was slowly eating me from the inside out.

I sought James out at our normal meeting spot a few days before winter break. "Hey," I said, joining him at the metal ramp that had been our refuge for so long. It felt different sitting here now. My days on the ramp had been filled with despair and plans of escape, now it seemed lonely and depressing.

James only acknowledged me with a brief flickering of his eyes.

"So, long time no see," I said, trying to ignore the uncomfortable awkwardness.

He remained still, not even looking up.

The silence felt oppressive and suffocating, so I filled it with chatter that was completely out of character for me. I didn’t know if I was trying to make up my absence to him or justify it. I let everything I had been up to for the last seven weeks pour out of me. I held nothing back as I told him about my feelings for Dean, the kindness his family had shown me and how liberated I felt after smashing Katie's nose in. As uncharacteristic as my new chattiness was, it didn't seem to faze him. I wasn't sure where my sudden desire to fill him in on all the details I used to keep bottled up came from. Maybe I was trying to show him there was hope, not only for me, but for both of us.

The bell rang, ending lunch as I finally ran out of steam. James plucked his bag up and walked away without saying anything.

"James, I'll be here same time tomorrow," I called after him. He didn’t look back, and I wasn’t even sure if he heard me, but I would keep my promise. I would slowly drag him into the new life I had discovered.

***

My promise unraveled into a nightmare before it could ever be fulfilled.

I had just sat down at my desk in Ms. Jones’s class the following morning when Mr. Wilson came over the intercom with a single morning announcement. Another student had committed suicide. He was saddened to inform us that James Isaac Garrison III had taken his life at approximately five p.m. the night before. I sat in shock, trying to digest his words. Déjà vu swept through me. Seven weeks ago, he'd announced the death of a student that would forever change my life. This morning, he made an announcement that threatened to destroy it.

Without a word, I walked out of class and didn’t look back.

I didn’t acknowledge Ms. Jones calling after me, asking if I was okay.

This was my fault.

Death had trumped me.

He was the ultimate bastard, stealing from me without a backward glance.

Chapter twenty one