Falling (Bits and Pieces, Book 1) (23 page)

BOOK: Falling (Bits and Pieces, Book 1)
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“Okay. I won’t ask why you’re going. Not now, anyway.” I was thankful for that. Maybe later, after it was done, I could handle it. “I don’t get why your mom or dad aren’t going with you.”

“It’s just one of those things that we don’t agree on. Can we just leave it at that? They’re letting me go because it’s a subpoena and they have to, but they don’t have to like it or support it or me. It’s okay. It’s really better that they don’t come with me. It would just make it harder and worse. Much worse.”

Patrick kept scanning my face. He could see how uncomfortable I was, but I doubt he had any idea why. I wanted him to come, I really wanted someone with me, but I didn’t think it fair to ask him to miss school or practice. Besides, I didn’t even know how to ask him for something like this. Maybe he did have an idea why I looked like I did, “You really should have someone there to support you. I mean, you’re testifying in court! I don’t care if the case is big or small, that’s kinda scary. Talk about stressful.”

“That’s what the district attorney said. She felt it was really important that they came with me. I tried to explain to her that… that it wasn’t going happen.” I had to remind her about my parents’ reaction to begin with when we were in
San Francisco
. She finally backed off the parent issue after that. “She still hoped I would bring some support, though. She was still pushing the issue yesterday.
 
Said she’d cover the ticket and I just had to tell her who - hoping I would bring my aunt or cousin or something.”

“Why aren’t you bringing one of them?”

“You’re kidding, right? They don’t know what happened. No one in the family knows. One of those family secrets, my parents would be embarrassed if any one else knew. So, I could never ask any of them. Even if I did, they’d side with my parents. I couldn’t take it. No, it’s better this way.” I shook my head. I wanted to change the subject. Needed to. I could feel myself getting close to crying and I didn’t want that. “We should get back to class.” I cleared my throat. “We need to grab some stuff to make like we found some supplies.”

Patrick just stared at me. I turned to grab a box and started looking through the bins of motors, resistors and other parts. I wasn’t looking for anything specific. I just needed to be moving, doing something. “I can see that this is going to be hard for you.” That’s an understatement. “I don’t want to push. But is there any way I can help?” He sounded so sincere and I wanted him to help me, but I didn’t want to take advantage of our friendship.

I took a deep breath. “You are. You’re letting me borrow your notes.”

“Liz. Come on, I can do more than that. You can get the notes from anyone.” He was frustrated.

I stopped shuffling through random boxes of stuff and turned to face him. “I know you can. But you need to know, that it’s okay for you to say ‘No’. Okay? Seriously. And you don’t have to answer now.”

“Okay.”

“The favor I really wanted to ask you wasn’t to borrow your notes. It was… well..” I took a deep breath. Just spit it out. Then the words tumbled out. “If you’d go with me to the trial. Like I said, I had an extra ticket. And there’s no one else that I really trust. But, I don’t want you to miss school or practice. And besides, Becca probably wouldn’t like it. I don’t want to cause any trouble. Forget I said anything.” I turned away from him and picked up my box of random, useless supplies.

“No, Liz.” He started to say.

“That’s okay. I know you have practice and stuff. I’ll just call you when I’m done with it.” I interrupted, still not looking at him.

“Let me finish.”

I turned around. “Sorry.”

“What I was trying to say is I won’t forget about it. Don’t worry about trouble you might cause with me. Don’t use that as some excuse to not ask for help when you need it. That’s stupid. Man, how can you be smart is so many things and not so much in others?” Patrick shook his head and smiled. I knew he was joking and not joking at the same time. It was true. I was dumb, or maybe it was more stubborn, about non-school stuff. “I don’t want you to go alone. I have a feeling that it would be a bad idea if you did, especially since the DA seems to want you to not be alone. If a total stranger thinks that, then I don’t think this trial is about you seeing someone hit another car.”

He waited for a response. My pulse raced at the thought of what it was about. After I knew I’d have control over my voice, I answered. “No. It’s not.”

“Yeah, I’ll go.” He responded immediately and definitively.

“But what about…” I whispered.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll take care of it. You’re my friend. I
want
to be there for you. I
want
to go. Besides, what better reason to ditch school but to actually go somewhere, instead of just sleeping in?” He smiled, it was very reassuring. I felt like I could actually get through tomorrow.

Mr. D tapped on the door before entering. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, Mr. D. But it looks like I’ll have to make up tomorrow’s quiz.” Mr. D just nodded. Patrick picked up the box of random supplies I was putting together. “You know, if you had just asked me to begin with, we wouldn’t have missed part of class.” He teased.

We headed back to class. It felt like we were gone forever, but we really didn’t miss too much of class. I just needed to get through the day, which seemed doable now that Patrick said he’d come with me tomorrow. It would be a little easier having one friendly face there.

At lunch, I called DA Espinoza. I wanted to let her know that someone would be accompanying me and whose name to put on the ticket. She seemed glad that I wasn’t coming alone. She reminded me about what to expect and where I was to go. I wrote down the details in my notebook. Along with things like: remain calm, breathe, and focus on her.

I was really preoccupied as I entered math class. I almost tripped on someone’s backpack and ran into the edge of a desk before I got to my own seat. I was relieved when I finally sat down. I pulled out my notebook and opened it. Ms. Adams began her lecture and I started to take notes. I couldn’t help but stare at what I wrote during lunch.

I didn’t know how I would do it. I was scared. I was glad that Patrick was going to go with me. He was right, to have a bad feeling about tomorrow. I did too. I kept going over and over in my head the questions that I should expect. What the DA told me to expect. The thought of being in court freaked me out. I took several deep breaths to calm down. It didn’t really help. My stomach felt like it was doing cartwheels, good thing I didn’t eat lunch. That would have been bad, no telling what would have happened. Eww.

I thought about what I had to say, what I had to relive. I wasn’t looking forward to it. I knew I had to do it. Just because it was the right thing to do, didn’t make it easy. Actually, it tore me apart. I didn’t want to do it. I wanted to forget about it, bury it. The thought of it made me shake and tears start to form in my eyes. I closed my eyes. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

“Liz, what did you get for number 4?” My eyes shot open when I heard Ms. Adams call my name. Crap. I scanned the room to see she was standing at the side whiteboard toward the back of the room. I saw Patrick staring at me, he looked worried. I didn’t know what to say, I froze. I knew had to say
something
, but I didn’t know what. I had no idea what she had been talking about. What problem?

A new kind of fear filled me. I don’t remember the last time that I froze when a teacher called on me. Especially because I wasn’t paying attention in class. Usually, no matter what was going on with me, class was an escape and I could focus there. I desperately scanned the board to see what problems she had done. It might as well be written in ancient Sanskrit. I couldn’t understand a thing that was on the board. How could that happen? Crap.

“Liz, come up and write your solution.” She had her hand outstretched with a dry erase marker. “You can bring your paper up with you.” Ms. Adams seemed to want to ease the apparent tension and nervousness which was plastered on my face. I looked down at my notebook. Nope, no solution magically appeared in my notebook.

I slowly stood up from my seat and I felt like everyone was staring at me. The only eyes that I locked on to were Patrick’s. He looked down at his paper and pushed it toward the edge of his desk. I started walking to Ms. Adams, toward Patrick’s desk. As I got near Patrick, I got so nervous that I tripped on someone’s backpack. I partially caught myself before falling face first by grabbing onto the nearest table. As I regained my balance and stood up, I grabbed Patrick’s paper, trying not to be obvious. I didn’t plan on falling and taking his paper, but the opportunity presented itself.

Ms. Adams handed me the marker and smiled, when I got to the board. I forced a smile to my face and took a deep breath. I copied down Patrick’s solution onto the board and prayed that Ms. Adams would keep with her habit of asking one student to write the solution and another to explain it. Thankfully, she did. Ms. Adams now focused on another student to explain the solution that was written on the board. She excused me to sit back down, which I quickly did, careful not to trip on my way back. I glanced at Patrick as I sat down, trying to say thank you with a look.

I tried to listen to the explanation of the solution and understand it. I’d made it this far without losing it during class and I didn’t want to start now. I kept telling myself to pay attention and pushed down the thoughts of tomorrow. I was able to get through the rest of math and history by focusing on the teacher’s voice and ignoring the voices in my head that were haunting me about the trial.

* * *

 

At the end of the day, I walked through the quad to the parking lot. I watched students hanging out at the tables, laughing. I found myself, again, wishing I was one of them - a carefree teenager without a thought in the world. No, that wasn’t me. It would never be me. I was never really one of them and I know I could never be that in the future.

A bunch of Patrick’s crew were meeting in the usual spot in the quad. I saw Patrick head over to them. Becca saw him instantly and threw her arms around him. She seemed happy to see him, bubbly actually. I thought about her reaction, another reason why I wouldn’t be a typical teenager. I always felt better when I saw Patrick, but I couldn’t understand her response. I’ve liked guys before, but never felt the need to jump all over them. I couldn’t understand the need for big, grandiose public displays of affection. It was like she was marking her territory, why didn’t she just pee on him?

Patrick always looked like he tolerated it, but could do without it. I could tell by the look on his face that he wasn’t really paying much attention to her antics. He didn’t look very comfortable with her hanging all over him. He was letting her get her way. I wondered if most guys did that. It’s easier to let your girlfriend get her way than it is to argue with her. Then again, I guess if you argued with her, she wouldn’t be your girlfriend for long.

I made my way to my car and turned up the volume. I didn’t want to hear anything but the music. I needed to focus on the now – like driving home in one piece and not getting distracted. Once I got home, I got dinner started. I figured if I said I’d eaten because I made dinner, then I could avoid actually eating dinner with my parents. I left a note on the fridge simply stating that I would be home late tomorrow because of the trial in
San Francisco
. I knew after they read it, they wouldn’t want me to have dinner with them.

I ironed my clothes for the trial and packed my backpack for the day. I got ready for bed, then went to my room and locked the door. I put in my ear buds and cranked up my MP3 player. I didn’t want to think tonight. If I did, I might talk myself out of going tomorrow. I crawled into bed with my MP3 player and my cell phone. I hadn’t had a chance to talk to Patrick since this morning in physics. During math, he saved me from total humiliation by giving me his solution. But, we hadn’t really had the opportunity to talk about the details of tomorrow. I wanted to avoid any real details, and he was with his friends and Becca at lunch and after school. I figured that I’d call him tonight to let him know the flight information.

I felt my cell phone vibrate in my hands. “Hi, Liz.” It was Patrick.

“I was going to call you, but you beat me to it. So, tomorrow…” I wanted to give him the chance to back out.

“Yeah. I’m good. I told you I was going. That I wanted to be there for you. You’re not going to talk me out of it.” He knew me pretty well. But he really didn’t. He’d find out how much tomorrow.

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