When I Forget You (8 page)

Chapter 16
: Healing -->

             
My alarm buzzes at six-thirty for the first time in three months. I sigh and roll over on my stomach. I slam my hand on the alarm, trying to get it to shut up. I hear a knock on my door and my dad comes in.

             
“Get up, Becca. First day of school!” The scary thing is that he actually sounds excited. That’s crazy. Does he even remember his teenage years? Does he know how painful school is? I sigh then roll back over onto my back. I rub my eyes then open them. The light from the open windows blinds me for a second.

             
“Ahhhh! It burns!” I scream referring to the light. I’m not much of a morning person, especially on the first day of school.

             
“Don’t be such a drama queen. Now get out of bed or I’ll push you off,” he says. I don’t hesitate any longer to get out of bed. I jump out like a ninja and plant my bare feet on the warm carpet. He’s not kidding; he will push you off the bed. I’ve learned the hard way and have had to pay the price with bruises. My dad walks out of my room and down the stairs to make my lunch. Yes, he still makes my lunch. I make my bed then tie my hair in a ponytail. I walk into the hall then open my bathroom door.

             
“OH MY GOSH.” I cover my eyes and try to un-see what I just saw. “I’m sorry, I forgot somebody else shares this bathroom now.” I just walked in on Kade just getting done with a shower. All he had on was a white towel around his waist. I know I didn’t see anything but STILL. Ugh.

             
“Becca, chill you can’t even see anything.” I move my fingers off of one eye and look at Kade. Actually, I can see things. He’s shirtless. “And in the future, I would like to take my showers without having to stare at tampons the whole time,” he says then hands me my box of super “Playtex” sport tampons. I blush a little out of embarrassment then remember how awkward this moment is. I walk out of now our bathroom and back into my room.

             
I decide to switch up my routine a little. I put on my brown dress with my brown cowboy boots, then do my hair, before brushing my teeth and washing my face. Usually, it’s the opposite, but Kade got to the bathroom first and it’s only fair to let him finish up first.

             
Five minutes later, he knocks on my door. “The bathroom is all yours,” he says.

             
“Finally,” I say. I walk out of my room and into the bathroom. I shut the door then lather my face in my hands then onto my face. Once I’m done, I brush my teeth. Right before I spit out the toothpaste in my mouth, a drop of white yucky saliva drops from my mouth and onto my dress. I scream.

             
“What! What happened?” Kade comes rushing into the bathroom door without even knocking.

             
“This is why I wash my face and brush my teeth before getting dressed!” I yell, pointing to the stain on my new “first day of school” dress.

             
“Should have gotten up earlier,” he responds as he walks out the bathroom and down the stairs.

             
“Or you can just let the lady go first,” I call after him.

             
“Who says you qualify as a lady?” He chuckles to himself without looking back at me. I can tell he chuckled because his shoulders moved slightly up then back down. I stomp back into the bathroom and try to get the white stain off my chest so it doesn’t look like I spit-up on myself, even though I did.

             
I walk downstairs and grab a banana.

             
“Ready to go in five?” Kade comes up from behind me, a bowl of cereal in his hands.

             
“Yeah, sure. I’m driving, though,” I say. I completely forgot. Mom wants Kade and I to carpool to school. It wouldn’t make sense for both of us to drive separately to and from school, it would just make our gas bills go up even higher than they already are.

             
“Heck no. My car, my control,” he says as he shakes his hand.

             
“Fine then. We’ll take my car,” I say.

             
“We’ll switch off every week,” he says trying to compromise. I’m not one for compromise unless it’s getting me everything I want. It’s not in this situation.

             
“Fine,” I say, not in the mood to fight. I sit at the table and open up my laptop, my banana still in my other hand. I open Facebook. No new notifications. I sigh then go to the bathroom to do my makeup. I put on my brown eyeliner, brown mascara and gold sparkly eye shadow. I put my tinted lotion on my face, then my pink cherry lip gloss on my lips. I put powder on the apples of my cheeks, and then I’m ready for action. I check myself once more in the full mirror, making sure everything is perfect, then head out to meet Kade in the driveway. I get in the passenger seat of his truck. This seems abnormally comfortable now; I turn on the seat heater so my butt doesn't get cold.

             
“Did you get the stain off?” Kade asks, actually caring.

             
“Yeah, thanks,” I say avoiding eye contact. “So what are we going to do? When we show up in the same car, people are going to start asking questions.”

             
“You can get out of the car first, acting like you drove here. Then five minutes later, I’ll get out. No one will suspect a thing.” He shrugs like he’s had this thing planned forever.

             
We ride the rest of the way in silence. I’m not one for talking in the morning. I’m usually just barely waking up by the time I get to second period. We get into the parking lot and I hop out of the car first. I don’t say goodbye to him. I can feel him watching me, though, as I walk to the entrance of the school.

             
“Hey Becca,” a girl from my English class says.

             
“Hi,” I say back while giving my best “good morning” smile.

             
I walk down the hall toward my senior locker. “Nice outfit, Becca,” a girl from my Calculus class says in a squeaky bird voice.

             
“Thanks!” I get greeted three more times and complimented two more times.

             
I walk straight into the gym with my head up and smile on. My chin is up and I admit, I’m rocking my dress. Oh yeah, it’s gonna be a good year. I can feel the freshman boys checking me out. I giggle to myself as I make my kick-ass entrance.

             
“Greene,” I tell the lady handing out schedules.

             
“Becca?”

             
“Yes,” I say as she hands me my schedule. I walk away and mutter a thank you, then look at my first period. Math. Thank God. It’s my favorite subject in the whole wide world. I’ve actually talked about majoring in math in college with my parents. Secretly, I want to be a math teacher when I get out of college. I know, it’s nerdy. I walk up to room 804 when my phone beeps.

             
Chasity texted me.

First?

Math. Jefferson. U?

Orchestra.

Sucks ass.

For sure.

C u at lunch?

Yup. Usual place.

I sigh, feeling sad because I most likely won’t be able to see Chasity until lunchtime. That’s in four periods. Great. I walk up to the math department and into 804. My math teacher is a guy in a blue t-shirt, jeans, and flip-flops. He looks up at me from his front desk and smiles.

             
“Pick your seat,” he says. I decide to take one in the front row. My mom always says to take a seat in the front row on the first day. Teachers remember crap like that. Plus, I like showing I have confidence. I like to intimidate people, even my teachers.

Period 1: My math teacher is insane. He has too many rules. My head wants to explode.

Period 2:  Dance was amazing. Mrs. Carly is making me lead dancer this year and I’m stoked. I’ve been dancing since sixth grade. The competition is hard in high school. There are so many talented dancers, but my hard work has finally paid off!

Period 3: Bored out of my mind with Government. The teacher smells.

Period 4: One more period until lunch! But right now I’m stuck in AP Spanish 4.

When the bell rings I get the hell out of there. My Spanish teacher is a freaking freak. Dear Lord the woman desperately needs help. During the beginning of class, she complained about how dull looking her classroom is. She said she wanted to paint the walls, yet that would be against the rules, but she doesn’t care. She also said she wants a waterfall instead of a wall, and maybe a garden behind the
classroom. Like a waterfall? Is she kidding? She does know that to make it a room, you have to have a fourth wall, right? She probably has like seven cats and no husband. 

             
“Hey babe,” Chasity says walking up to me.

             
“Yo. How was the first half?”

             
“Painful.”

             
“Tell me about it.”

             
“Pep rally after lunch?” Shoot I totally forgot about the “Welcome Back” pep rally after lunch before fifth period.

             
“You got it. Meet at the stadium?” We walk down the hill and past the grassy area.

             
“Sure,” I say smiling as people say hello to me. We walk up the ramp that leads to our lockers. Finally. A top locker!

             
We walk back down the ramp and onto the grassy area where we have eaten lunch since freshman year.

             
“So how’s Kade?” Chasity asks right when I sit down on the grass and open up my lunch. Really? Could I just have five minutes where I don’t have to think about the guy that is showering in my shower?

             
“Fine,” I say then take a bite of my sandwich, signaling I’m done talking about the Kade topic.

             
“Have you talked to Cynthia?”

             
“She stopped calling. We all just got kind of busy. But, I’ll call her tonight and tell her all about my first day of school,” I continue. I can’t wait to go home. I promised Cynthia the last time she called that I would call her right after my first day. Too bad I don’t really have anything interesting to tell her.

             
Now I’m on the verge of tears. I would always come home last year after an interesting day, help her do the laundry and tell her about what happened. The best part is, she actually listens. And cares. And gives advice. She’s like a free therapist. When I need her the most, she’s there. Plus, she is always the one that can make me laugh when I want to cry. But now, I’m not going to have her to go to every day. Even though she says I can call every day, I know neither of us have the time for that. I feel my eyes start to well up with tears. I bat them so a tear won’t slip away. Gosh, it’s only been three weeks without her. How am I supposed to survive a year without Cynthia? Maybe even more than a year? WHAT ABOUT THE HOLIDAYS? Every Christmas Cynthia and I get together to make cookies and brownies and take them to the people we love.

             
Thank God the bell rings. Like seriously, God totally has my back right now, ‘cause if I stay any longer thinking about Cynthia, I’ll ball my eyes out.

             
“Pep rally time?”

             
“Yup. Our last ‘Welcome Back’ pep rally!” I squeal, having a total attitude adjustment trying to get myself to perk up. It worked...kind of. Not really. Whatever.

             
We walk down the hill and toward the football stadium. They are sorting everyone by grade. Chasity and I make our way to the (OMG) Senior Section! She grabs my hand and leads me up the bleachers to the top row, where all of our friends agreed to meet.

             
“Seniors, bitches!” People to my left scream.

             
When we get to about halfway up the bleachers, I see Kade. I didn’t really think about what it would be like to see him at school. I never see him at school. Though, he clarified, he sees me. There he is with the football team. Staring directly back at me. I don’t wave to him, though, and he doesn’t wave to me. I glue my eyes to his, but then he looks away. I feel a strange rush of disappointment. Why? He always looks down at the ground when I look at him. It’s not like it’s anything new. I sigh, then continue to follow Chasity up to the last row. Right as we sit down in the middle of our friends, the rally starts.

             
“DANA HOW DO YOU FEEL?” The lame class president yells into the microphone. The microphone is there for a reason. It projects your voice. You don’t have to scream in it. The whole school stands up and completes the chant.

             
“WE FEEL GOOD, OH WE FEEL SO GOOD, UH!” With the uh, we push our hips forward and our arms back, yes, a sex sign. ‘Cause, you know, the “feel good” thing is also a sex term. Wow, if you still don’t get it this is really awkward. I shouldn’t be having to explain this to anyone.