“You can sleep in the guest room downstairs, next to the bathroom. Lina, sit,” Mr. Hackly says.
“Thank you, sir,” I say, offering the only thing I have, a kind word to show my appreciation.
Mr. Hackly and Trent talk quietly between them. Mrs. Hackly silently listens and I eat the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. The two men talk about me, making plans for me and even discuss taking me to the mall to buy me new clothes.
In this moment a fleeting thought passes by me. I’ve seen healthy family dynamics at school and on the street with loving families, but I’ve never really understood them. I’ve always been a spectator with my nose pressed against the glass, desperately attempting to climb through. Now though, I think it may be my turn for a family.
I’ve been living with Trent and his parents for ten days now and I’ve even been back to school for a few days. I went back when I could cover the bruises and I wore large sunglasses I borrowed from Trent’s mom. No one noticed; no one asked. I’m still trying to understand exactly where I fit in. It took two days before Mr. Hackly sat me down and asked me about my home life with Dad. He simply sat and listened and nodded his head. Not once did he meet my eyes, and not once did he say anything negative. As a matter of fact, once I finished telling him about my life, his lips drew up in the smallest of smiles and he thanked me for trusting him enough to tell him.
But it’s not really trust. I figured I owed him an explanation, seeing as he was kind enough to open his home to me and allowed me to stay.
I’ve also noticed how Trent’s mom doesn’t really say much. She sits at the dinner table after Mr. Hackly and Trent have been seated, she doesn’t start her dinner until Mr. Hackly picks his fork up. She’s always the last one to go to bed, and the first one up every morning. I’ve had ten days of full breakfasts and hot dinners.
In the mornings, Mr. Hackly comes into the kitchen dressed in his suit, takes the coffee cup Mrs. Hackly holds out for him, sits at the head of the table, and eats his breakfast. When he’s through, he gets up and leaves. Trent and I walk to the bus stop and get on our busses for school.
But for some reason, although the Hackly family looks normal, there’s still something just not quite right. The relationship between Mr. Hackly, Trent, and his mom seems a bit off.
Trent and I have grown closer, which is surprising because I never thought I’d open up to anyone. Trent often tells me how beautiful I am. When Mr. Hackly is in the room with us, I often catch him looking at me. His stare is obvious, and he makes no attempt to look away from me. It shouldn’t make me feel uncomfortable, because he’s never said or done anything inappropriate. But for some reason, I just feel yucky when I notice him staring.
“We’re coming up to the end of the school year. How do you feel, Miss Valedictorian? I’m really proud of you, Lily. Even Dad said how impressed he is with your 3.9 GPA, especially with everything that’s happened.”
I walk along, hand in hand with Trent and just take in the rays of the glorious sun. Summer will be here before I know it, and it means the end of school. “Yeah, I’m happy with it. Doesn’t mean much though, with me not being able to go to college.”
“If you had the chance to go, and do anything you want, what would you do?” Trent asks as he swings our joined hands and brings them up to kiss my knuckles.
I look at him and smile, happy in this moment. “I’d like to teach English a the high school level. But that’s just wishful thinking. I know we only have a few weeks left of school and I’ll need to find a job. I can’t expect your mom and dad to support me.”
“What about a scholarship?” Principal Murphy told me I should get someone interested in giving me a scholarship, but we’re nearing the end of school and I’ve heard nothing – which means no one noticed me.
It’s not a bad thing, not being noticed. Sometimes it’s better that way. It’s hard to explain to people why I don’t talk much, or why I keep my eyes on the ground. I’m getting better, but I’m not sure I’ll ever really be normal.
I shake my head at Trent, silently telling him there have been no offers.
“I find that really hard to believe. I got offered a partial scholarship and my GPA was 3.5, so I don’t know why you weren’t offered at least a partial one.”
“I don’t know what to tell you.” I shrug my shoulders and lower my eyes as we keep walking toward the bus stop.
We reach it with a few minutes to spare, and Trent hugs me. It’s the first time he’s been so publicly affectionate with me, and I find it strange. I wiggle around in his embrace, feeling self-conscious. Maybe people are staring and thinking, ’What’s that cute guy doing with such an ugly, stupid girl?’