I’m freezing. I have been for the past week. Looking back, hearing Wendy’s voice…“just numbing the pain.” How could I have been so clueless? How could I hear that from my best friend and not give it any thought? Everything that happened in that final week of her life and I was stupid enough to not put together the pieces.
It’s raining; hasn’t completely stopped for a week. I watch the back and forth of the windshield wipers sweeping away the water. The grass seems as if its permenantly flooded. I’ve been walking outside when it pours whenever my mom leaves the house, which she doesn’t do often because she’s scared that Wendy’s death is going to make me do something drastic. Something drastic is what I need to do but it’s not going to be something to cause myself physical harm.
I pass another stop sign. Whatever. If mom wanted me to get to school in a safe manner, she would have driven me herself. I drive into the parking lot, trying to pull myself together enough to dodge the kids walking to the school. I find a spot towards the very end of the lot.
I take a deep breath in and let it out. I get out of the car and start towards the school. Last time I did this, Wendy was walking besides me. “Just numbing the pain.” Those g*dd*mn words again, get out of my head.
My thoughts are interrupted by the bell. Late. Awesome. I make my way to my first block English class, ignore the sub’s request for a late pass, and walk to my seat. The stares that I get are ridiculous, everyone noticeably turning their heads, their eyes following me to my seat in the back of the classroom. But I don’t care. I might have cared a week ago, but now life is just blah.
Today’s subject: commas. Ugh, seriously, senior year and people still can’t get these? I put my elbows on the desk and rest my head in my palms. I stare at my favorite poster in the front of the room: “writing is the soul on paper”. What draws me to this, I don’t know. I can’t write for anything, maybe it’s that I wish I could, who knows?
As I’m staring down this poster, my thoughts run wild, but I don’t try to stop them. I’ve got the next hour and a half to think things through.
I go back to that Wednesday morning. I’m in my car on my way to Wendy’s house; I used to pick her up from school because her parents were too busy getting divorced and didn’t have the money to buy her a car. She has long sleeves on; it’s May 22, she’s going to be hot in that school. She gets in the car with tears in her eyes. She’s been crying a lot lately, but every time I see her cry, it hurts me too, “What’s wrong?” I say.
“You know how I called you after school yesterday about Alex being a complete jerk?” Wendy had confronted Alex, her year long boyfriend, about how controlling he was. He wouldn’t give her any freedom and the only person he would let her hang out with was me because me and him were friends too.
I put the car in reverse and pull out of the driveway, “Yeah, what about it?”