all the previous evening —but remembering the wall of depression that had overcome me the day before when I went in her room, I decided to just leave a note for her on the counter.
The doorbell rang. I scooped up my heavy backpack and opened the door. Bryan stood on the stoop, leaning his lanky frame against a post. Time must have faded his image in my mind, because the guy standing before me, grinning with one up-turned corner of his mouth, was gorgeous! The dark of his eyes and hair were accented by a pair of black plastic framed glasses, making him appear studious, but cool at the same time. He radiated calm and strength, but also a hint of nervousness. My shoulders relaxed and I responded with an echoing grin.
“You’re wearing glasses,” I commented.
“Only when I drive,” he replied. "Ready?"
I nodded and pulled the door closed behind me.
We drove the couple of blocks to school. His car was a older model Lexus, a little nicer than the average high school student. We didn’t talk much. The air between us felt thick and awkward. He tapped his long fingers on the steering wheel, and I knew he was as anxious as I was.
Bryan found a parking space in the middle of the lot. He shut the ignition off, but neither of us made a move to exit the vehicle. He removed his glasses and folded them into a case which he then tossed up onto the dashboard. My chest tightened with nerves, and I drummed my fingers rapidly on my leg. It was only a few minutes before the bell and students, alone and in groups, made their way purposefully to the doors.
"Maybe I shouldn't have made you do this," Bryan said. "You don't have to go in. I can take you back home if you want."
"You're not making me do this. And as tempting as it is to go back to bed, getting back to regular life is the best thing to do.” I took a deep breath and let it out with a shudder. “I'm just glad I don't have to do it alone."
Bryan's expression softened and he reached over to pat the back of my hand. For a second, I thought he might take hold of it, causing me to suck in a quick breath. But he didn't. The touch was gone as quickly as it was given.
"Let's go," he said as he retrieved his bag from the backseat and opened the door.
My head grew dizzy as I climbed out into the crisp morning air. My stomach ached. The bell rang as we were approaching the building, but Bryan was content to let me walk at my own pace, without hurry. He accompanied me all the way to my government class. I could hear Mr. Steele in the classroom taking roll.
"Thanks, Bryan," I said. "I really appreciate your help."
He patted my shoulder stiffly. "I'll be right here when you get out of class."
"You don't need to walk me to all of my classes," I said with a nervous chuckle.
"I know I don't have to, but my American history class is just two doors down. No big deal.”
Bryan lifted his hand in a wave and strutted off down the hall. I waited until he disappeared into his classroom. As soon as he turned the corner out of sight, my fear came back. Roll call was over, and the principal's voice poured out of the intercom speakers for the morning announcements. I thought I might be able to slip into my seat before anyone noticed. I was wrong.
As I rounded the doorway to sneak down the aisle, I bumped into the metal garbage can, knocking it over with a clunk on the hard tiles. Twenty-one heads looked up at once. Upon recognizing me, their collective eyes shot down to the tops of their desks. The tension in the room jumped up so sharply, my lungs constricted. Suddenly, my neck broke out in a cold sweat, and my cheeks flared. I leaned over to right the garbage can and my bag slid off my shoulder, breaking the strap with the weight of too many textbooks.
"Good morning, Cady," Mr. Steele said, picking up his attendance book to mark me present. "Class, pay attention to the announcements."
The students turned back toward the front. I clutched the broken strap of my bag and slid into my third-row seat.
I remembered nothing of the teacher's lecture. Instead, I obsessed over my discomfort. It was