The closer I get to campus, the faster my heart pounds. Once there, I scan the parking lot for his truck but don’t see it. I linger by the front entrance and casually look through my backpack. Maybe when he arrives, he’ll see me here and come talk to me again. Maybe he’ll want to walk to English class together. One can hope.
Two minutes later I zip up my bag, disgusted with myself. Why am I going all stalker on some new guy? Pathetic much? I head down the crowded breezeway and spot Corinne waiting by my locker.
“What’s wrong? You look awful,” I say when I reach her.
“I didn’t get much sleep last night. Mom’s got a new boyfriend, Bill, and they were partying all night long. He thinks he’s a guitar player.” She makes a face like she’s trying to keep from crying.
I frown, knowing Corrine’s troubles at home are far worse than she lets on. A few years ago when I was telling her how I hated coming to school every day, she’d confessed how much she looks forward to the hours here away from her abusive home life. “I’m sorry, that totally sucks,” I say, closing my locker.
We’re halfway to class when she stops and turns to me.
“Um, Liora, I was wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner on Friday…it’s my birthday and my mom promised to be sober and make something nice.” Her plump face is bright red and she shifts uncomfortably on her feet.
Damn. Oh, Corinne, please don’t do this.
She’s practically the only person who’s been my friend since I became fully human. At first, I thought my life after the “split” would be just like it was before, only with no powers or cognizant awareness of anything that happens at night. But as I got older and entered high-school, people started asking more questions like: “What happened to your parents?” “How do you take care of your blind grandmother all by yourself?” “How do you guys get your money?” And of course, my favorite, “Why can’t you ever hang out at night?”
The questions were exhausting, almost as tiresome as the continual stream of lies and excuses I had to use to get out of doing things normal girls my age enjoy and take for granted… going to slumber parties or out on dates, attending school football games, studying with friends at night—or just hanging out. Even eating dinner with a friend for her birthday. Things I wanted to do.
The more I had to say ‘no’ to friendly invitations, the fewer and further between those invitations got, until they dwindled to nothing. The people I’d been forced to shun now wanted nothing to do with me.
Now most people just think I’m some sort of snobby, reclusive freak. But it’s better this way. Corrine has always respected my boundaries and never judged me. I really hope this isn’t changing.
“Um…I don’t think I can. My grandma might need me. It’s hard for me to leave her alone, her being totally blind and all…” I stammer.
“Right, of course. Forget I mentioned it,” she says quickly, biting her lip.
Now I feel horrible. Corrine is really nice, but a lot of the other kids pick on her because she’s overweight and wears shoddy clothes. I’m one of the few people at school who will even talk to her. And now I just hurt her feelings.
“Maybe we can do something else instead…” I say, cautiously choosing my words. “Maybe Saturday day we can…I dunno…go down to the lake and bring lunch or something. Or go into town and hit up a matinee or something…whatever you want, as long as it’s during the day.”
Her face brightens. “You mean it? You’d actually want to hang out?”
I smile. “Sure…as long as it’s during the day and I’m home before dark. I can’t leave my grandma alone at night.”
She nods enthusiastically, her stringy blonde hair flopping in her face. “I understand, totally. Daytime. No prob…we’ll think of something fun to do.” She’s so happy, I feel even more horrible for rejecting her invitation in the first place. I suspect she was more crushed by my initial reaction than she let on.
“So where do you think Kieron is? I don’t see him anywhere,” Corinne says as we continue down the hall to English class. I ignore the looks of disdain from Drusilla and her friends as they pass by. All dressed in soft pastels and perfectly coiffed pony tails with one strand wrapped to hide the elastic, they glance at me in my black t-shirt, jeans and combat boots as if I’m a cockroach in their spinach salad.
“Mmm, I dunno,” I say as casually as I can. Truth is, I haven’t stopped looking for a glimpse of him either, but I don’t want to mention this to Corrine. She’d understood when I explained yesterday how he was only talking to me to ask if I could help him catch up with his studies. But I know she’s crushing on him hard, and I don’t want any further tensions between us.