“Actually, I had lots of friends,” I continued, following her. “It wasn’t lonely. It was comfortable. Too comfortable, I guess. I annoy my sister, so since she graduates at the end of the year, I thought it would be my last chance to be around for that.”
She chuckled again. “How fun. I’m an only child.”
I wonder if my parents might’ve kept me around if I had been the only one instead of tucking me away at some distant school for others to deal with.
My face started to warm as we walked, and I wasn’t sure if it was my nerves or what.
“Are people staring at me?” I asked her.
“They’re staring at us.”
“Why?”
I heard her inhale. “I think… they’re confused. We kind of look alike.”
“Do we?” I replied. “Are you hot?”
If she was hot, then I was hot.
But she just laughed.
“When I think about how I must look,” I told her, “I still see the kid I last looked at in the mirror when I was eight.”
“So you can think in…pictures?”
I blinked. Pictures?
She must’ve seen a look on my face, because she rushed to apologize. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. That was a dumb question, right?”
I shook my head. “No, I... I’m just used to being around people who understand, I guess. I’ll have to get used to questions.” And then I added, “And making people feel comfortable enough to ask. It’s fine.” I let out a small laugh and licked my lips. “And yes, to answer your question. My brain still works, just not my eyes. When I try to picture things I’ve never seen before, though, like you or the inside of this school, it gets more complicated. Sometimes I map it out in my head, and I can create an impression. Other times it’s just like a color or a feeling or a sound that helps me identify it.”
Then I went through some of the pictures in my head, reflecting on how I drew things in my mind.
“Sometimes,” I continued, “it’s a memory. Like when I think about trees or I’m in the forest around my house, I always picture the last trees I saw. No matter where I am. Every tree looks like the trees in that garden maze with the fountain. Tall hedges, dark green…” I trailed off, the memories of that day flooding me again. “A fountain…”
“Garden maze?” she questioned. “Not the one at Damon Torrance’s house…”
My face fell, and I almost stumbled. Damon.
She said his name so casually, like she assumed I knew exactly who he was, heard his name every day, and he was just any other boy, living and breathing right here in Thunder Bay. All of it so normal to her.
Of course, I knew he still lived here, but having her so casually confirm it all of a sudden reminded me that I’d let my guard down.
The truth was, I hadn’t heard his name in six years. It was never spoken in my house, not since the day I found him sitting in the fountain and ended up covered in blood. Everyone said it was an accident, but he’d scared me that day. He made me fall.
But I knew he’d be here. I just hadn’t let myself think about it, I guess. I was a freshman, and he was a senior, on his way to college in a matter of months. My father wanted me to wait until he was gone—start here my sophomore year—but I wanted to start now. My classmates would be transferring from their middle schools, just like I was transferring, so we’d be on an even keel. In that respect anyway. I wanted all four years with my graduating class.
I’d just avoid him and his circle, but he probably didn’t care to trouble himself with me anyway. I couldn’t imagine how he’d forget, because I never would, but it was possible. Given the time that had passed, maybe I was just a faint memory to him.
“Well…,” Rika began after I didn’t say anything else. “It might be nice to live in my good memories forever.”
I nodded, letting the misconception go. I wish I could remember any other trees but those trees.
We stopped at her locker, and I heard the hollow clunk as she dumped her bag of books into it before taking my bag, as well. Not that I had much in there. Some headphones, a digital recorder the school made me buy to record lectures even though I have an app on my phone for that, my wallet, and of course, my cell.
All of my text books and reading material were downloaded on Audible and on my phone, and I’d left my MacBook in my own locker before Biology, since I’d been told I wouldn’t need it for that class. The text-to-speech feature, where I could type out homework and hear it read back to me to make sure I’d typed correctly, had always been useful, but working in groups and having my earbuds in during class was going to be an obstacle I hadn’t thought of. The learning curve coming here would be steep.
“We’ll pick your stuff up after lunch,” Rika told me.