Forever Changed

My stomach dropped to the floor, and all I could do was sit there like a deer in headlights, leaning back in my seat as he slowly turned around as if I had called his name.

Ours eyes locked in a momentary trance before he finally broke the connection by shifting back around in his seat.

What was that? I thought as adrenaline began to bring my blood to a boil. He’s going to dismiss me like I had bothered him or something? It was he and his father who had sent my family on this runaway train of destruction.

I spent the last half hour of detention fighting the urge to say something, or throw something at him, or hit him upside the head with my book bag, or even cut the thick hair on his head that I had admired earlier before realizing it was him. I didn’t know what deranged act I wanted to do, I just wanted to make him understand how much I hated him.

Five minutes before detention was due to end, he stood up and gave me a sweeping glance that made me wonder if he already knew how much I loathed him. I turned my eyes away before I did something rash like claw his eyes out.

He turned his back on me and walked away when the teacher’s aide announced we were free to go. My rage that had been stewing for the last hour turned quickly to nausea like I had just come off a roller coaster. I dropped my head to my knees hoping some of the lightheadedness would clear.

“You okay, dear?” the aide asked, standing at the end of the row where I sat.

“Yeah, sorry, I just felt a little sick there,” I apologized when I saw she was waiting on me to leave.

“That’s fine,” she said as I grabbed my school bag and followed her out of the building.

By the time I reached the student parking lot, most of the nausea had passed, but I felt weak from the anger that had consumed me so intensely. I sat in my car with my eyes closed, hoping the cold air conditioning would help when I heard the crowd of football players and cheerleaders mingling into the parking lot after practice. Now that the season was over, they were much more laid back as everyone was laughing and joking around. Lacey was of course flirting with Brad, the captain of the football team, as they headed toward his Jeep Wrangler that resembled something you would find in a monster truck rally. He helped her climb in by sliding his hands under her cheerleading skirt to cup her butt. Her high-pitched giggle sounded so phony, knowing her as well as I did. Not that Brad minded, considering the way he ran his hand up the inside of her thigh before he closed her door and loped around the front of the Jeep to the driver’s side.

Brad sped by my vehicle as he tore out of the parking lot. Lacey, recognizing my vehicle shot me the bird as they squealed by. I guess that put an exclamation point on where our friendship was at now.

What a colossally bad idea it was to crash Kassandra’s detention. Of course, knowing something and actually doing it are two separate issues. At first, she didn’t even notice I was there while she messed around with her phone. I knew the instant she became aware that someone was sitting in front of her when I heard her shift forward in her seat. I could feel her eyes studying me, making my pulse race as I fought the urge to turn around. It was obvious the instant she realized it was me.

Everything after that felt like an out-of-body experience. I swear when I turned around to look at her, it was as if I had no control of my body, it just happened. And I just sat there like a total freak, saying nothing. She looked so pissed, if looks could kill, I would have dropped dead right there on the spot. I didn’t know what to do so I just froze, putting on my trademark, I-don’t-give-a-shit look on my face before turning back around.

I could feel her laser beam eyes burning a hole through the back of my head. For a moment, I even considered taking the chicken’s way out by bolting from the room. Instead, I slouched down, wishing the seat would swallow me whole.

With five minutes left, I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up, shooting her one last look before heading down my row. My gut shrank to the size of a walnut when I saw the gambit of emotions spread across her delicate face. My presence was causing her pain she didn’t deserve. Quickening my pace, I headed up the aisle, throwing some excuse to the teacher about needing to use the bathroom.

I didn’t stop until I was around the corner, completely out of site. Standing with my back against the wall, I welcomed the sting of the rough brick on the side of my hands as I pounded my fists. Damn my dad for making this mess, and damn me for taking the chicken-shit way out that day. If only I would have taken the bus or bummed a ride from Drake, none of this would have happened. The old man would have slept off his drunken haze while I was at school. Sure, I probably would have received a smack or two, but the tradeoff in the whole spectrum of things would have been worth it.

I could hear the door of the auditorium opening as the remaining "delinquents" were released. I hung back, letting the long shadows of the afternoon obstruct me from view. Everyone but Kassandra had already come out which had me wondering if something was wrong. After what happened, I should have high-tailed it out of there, but I wanted to make sure she was okay. Finally, she appeared with the teacher following behind.

"I hope you feel better," the teacher said as she locked the door.

"Thanks."

She had her arms wrapped around her midsection like she had a stomach-ache or something. I would have gladly suffered through multiple poundings from my father to erase her pain. When she finally reached her car, she slumped in the driver’s seat, resting her head on the steering wheel. I felt like the biggest ass on the planet. That was it. From now on, I would stay out of her hair. I had done enough damage.

Megan watched me closely as I drove home after picking her up with a couple take-out bags on the seat next to me. “I’m fine, Peanut,” I said, looking at her in the rearview mirror. “I just have a stomach ache.” Megan was already overly observant, and since the accident, she had become extremely sensitive to when we were sick. Even without talking, I knew she was deathly afraid that something was going to happen to me or Mom. The smallest of sniffles had her on guard and watching us like a hawk.

She relaxed slightly back into her seat, but kept her eyes focused on my face in the rearview mirror.

Several minutes later, we piled out of the car juggling our dinner and book bags. Stepping into the entryway of the house, Megan and I were assaulted by aromas coming from the kitchen that we hadn’t smelled in months.

Someone was cooking dinner.

Megan shot me a startled look and I shrugged, equally puzzled. We set our bags down on the long wooden bench that ran along the wall under the staircase and headed toward the kitchen.

We both pushed open the swinging door together and sure enough, there was Mom over multiple pots on the stove. My mouth began to water and my stomach growled in anticipation, but it was the sight of my mom in front of the stove that evoked the biggest response out of me.

“Mom, you’re cooking?” I choked out through the lump in my throat.

“I figured it was time.”

“Really?” I asked incredulously. “You even when out to get the groceries?” I added, noting the empty Publix bags on the counter.

“Yes, really,” she said, sighing heavily as she sat on one of the high back bar stools at the island in the center of the kitchen. “Last night was a rude awakening for me. I realized after your teacher left just how selfish I've acted. I piled all the responsibility on you when you needed me the most,” she said wringing her hands.