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I shrugged. Not angry at him, just confused as to why he would want to be seen with me after this. Possible goose egg on my forehead. Boot on my foot. White bandage on my chin.
**
In the library, I sat in one of the comfy chairs and studied for an exam I had in History tomorrow. Who had exams the first week? Mr. Barker, that’s who. He called it, starting off the year right.
Football practice lasted three hours so I had plenty of time to kill. Plenty of time to study. The boot was killing my leg, so I took it for a while, letting my leg breathe. It rested on the floor by the legs of the chair. I moved my ankle around. It felt so much better.
My forehead was frozen from the ice pack and was bruising but at least the swelling had gone down. Miss Hilliard joined me in the reading area which was a surprise. I glanced to my left when she plopped in the chair beside me.
“Hi.” I closed my history book and let it rest on my lap.
“Am I interrupting your studying?” She asked me.
Miss Hillard was young. I didn’t imagine that she had been teaching long so maybe she still understood what it was like being a teenager.
She smiled at me, revealing her perfect, white teeth unlike mine that had two slightly crooked teeth on the bottom. I touched my teeth self-consciously.
“I wore braces for four years,” Miss Hillard said noticing my reaction to my own insecurities.
“Mom wanted me to get braces.”
“But you didn’t want them,” she declared.
“I didn’t not for just two teeth.” I lowered my eyes and looked at my history book.
“I was shy like you too,” she noted.
I smiled at her. “When I was younger, Tyson would sometimes have to speak for me because I was s
o shy.”
I found Miss Hillard easy to talk to. I was telling her things that I didn’t often tell anyone.
“I had a brother like that. His name was Eric.”
Was? I was afraid to ask her why she referred to him in the past tense. As bad as things were between me and Ty, I couldn’t imagine my life without him.
“Tyson and I were close,” I finally said.
“What happened?” Miss Hillard asked.
I shrugged. It was so stupid. “Ty took our hometown seventh and eighth graders two years in a row to state and won. Suddenly people weren’t saying to him why can’t you be more like Abby. He had his own identity. He liked it.”
Miss Hillard reached across the space separating us and patted my hand. She smiled at me. “Abby, I read some of your first assignment. I hope you don’t mind?” I shook my head no.
“Abby, I’m sure what you are thinking about your parents isn’t quite right. I’m sure you aren’t a disappointment to them. I’ve seen your academic records. You’re an amazing student.”
I leaned on my hand and smiled shyly at her. “My mom played tennis in high school and college. My dad played football in high school. In Tyson they connect in ways I can’t or don’t know how.”
“Not good at sports?”
I shrugged. Then I pointed to my forehead. “Cal was trying to teach me to catch today in gym class. He doesn’t know about the years of Tyson trying the very same thing and failing.”
She laughed at me. “Not everyone can be good at sports. You have your talents just like Tyson does.”
“I guess.”
“So, you feel like Tyson did three years ago,” she suggested. “You’re now walking in your brother’s shadow?”
