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1. Tyler - Nine years ago
Detention sucks.
The only thing worse than sitting in school for an extra hour– my least favorite place in the world– is when Casey, my older brother, finds out about it.
Casey’s been my legal guardian ever since my mom passed about five years ago, and up until this year, things were going pretty smoothly. Casey found his soulmate, Addie, at the rink, and with her and my help, he broke into the AHL and then NHL.
But here’s the thing… I knew things were going too well. I sat there breathing in the stadium air while watching my brother rack up points and fame from center ice seats, and I thought,wow, things are perfect… Too perfect.And I was right to be suspicious, to be waiting for the other shoe to drop, because it always does drop, no matter what.
Things came crashing down at the start of the winter when Addie left him… when she leftus. Because she was like my older sister. And now she was just…gone. Just like my mom. And I couldn’t even be a wreck about it because Casey was hanging on by a thread, and I had no clue how to fix it. So, I tried to lay low and make the whole legal guardianship thing easy for him. But me getting detentions? Not something he’d take too lightly. It’d send him into another tailspin of feeling not good enough– a feeling I knew all too well. So, I had to get my shit together somehow.
I pulled up my hood and laid down on my desk, preparing to nap away the next hour. My friends, Duke Callahan and Reggie Williams, were both in detention as well, but we were directed to sit far apart from each other so we wouldn’t cause trouble. It was probably for the best to be honest.
I kept my eyes trained on the snowy-rain mix pelting at the window to my left, and that’s whenshewalked directly into my line of sight.
Fiona Haley.
We went to elementary and middle school together, but seeing her now, it was clear she’d changed a lot over the years. She dyed her natural blonde hair pitch black, added a diamond stud to her cute, upturned nose, pierced about six or seven more earrings up her ears, and she went extra heavy on the eyeliner. She used to dress in tight clothes a lot, but now she just wore oversized sweatshirts over leggings. Today’s sweatshirt, definitely a guy’s from the size of it, had cigarette burns on the sleeves.
I rarely saw her anymore, but I’d never forget her acts of kindness when we were kids. One time, when I was called to read aloud in class in the fourth grade, Bradley Welters, a stuck-up prick who now captained the football team here at the high school, groaned and shouted out that I took too long, making me feel lower than low. She didn’t hesitate to put him in his place. She punched him right in the eye, shouted that he was a bully, then patiently held her finger under each word for me as I read, and she even whispered the correct words to me when I got stuck.
We were on different tracks here at the high school— she took all AP and honors courses, where I was in the remedial ones, just trying to make it through. We only ever crossed paths here in detention. I spotted her in the art hallway occasionally though, displaying her drawings in the showcases. Sometimes I took longer routes to classes so I could pass by her art stuff. I didn’t know her well at all anymore, but I was proud of her.
She slumped in her chair and plugged headphones in her ears. She had bags under those heavily make-up covered eyes of hers. I couldn’t help but notice that she looked how I felt inside… Sad.
Seconds later, her bright blue eyes slid to mine. She pulled her headphones out and shot me an intimidating look that said,what?
I snapped my neck forward and chastised myself for staring like a creep.
But after a couple minutes of silence, my brain kept wanting to study her further. I peeked down at her backpack on the ground leaning up against her desk. Her name was doodled on the top of it in pretty, loopy handwriting.
When I figured enough time had passed, and when I had enough courage, I slowly looked back at her.
Bigmistake.
Her neck whipped around to mine. “What’s with you? Why are you staring?” she demanded in a harsh whisper.
I swallowed hard. “N-Nothing,” I stammered.
“Well, stop,” she huffed under her breath. “It’s freaking me out.”
Self-loathing caved in on me. I hated that I scared her. “Sorry… it’s just…”
“What?” she snapped impatiently.
I’m not sure why I felt so compelled to speak to her, but looking back on it years later, I’m so fucking glad I opened my mouth that day, because reaching out to her when she needed someone… It was one of the most important things I ever did. Because she saved me too.
I cleared my throat and bit the bullet. “Are you okay?”
The annoyance left her face. Her mouth dropped slightly open, like she was at a loss for words. She squared her shoulders to the front of the room and stared straight ahead for a beat, and I immediately felt bad for asking.Figures,I thought,I couldn’t do anything right these days.I laid back down on my desk, trying to drown out the interaction with sleep.
I’m not sure how much time had passed when I was poked awake. I tried to slap the hand poking me away, thinking it was one of my buddies, but then a female voice whispered, “Tyler, c’mon, get up.”
Feeling all sorts of confused, I lifted my head and rubbed the sleep from my eyes, hoping I wasn’t about to get chewed out by the teacher on duty.
But then I realized it washer, and she whispered close to my ear, “Wanna get out of here?”
Those words woke me up like a bucket of water drenched down my back. Looking around us, almost everyone was either sleeping, including the teacher, or working on homework.
