One

2552 Words
"Lennon!... Lennon Faith Montgomery!" My mother's shrill voice yelling from behind the bedroom door had me throwing pillows and cussing under my breath. "I know you are awake, little girl. If you are late for school again, you'll get it." I'm so used to her threats it doesn't phase me anymore. It doesn't matter to her that I was up all night studying for the exam that she demanded I pass; it doesn't matter. I don't matter… nothing matters. Jeans, tee, sneakers. I grabbed the clothes I had laid out the night before and ran across the hall to the bathroom. The rickety faucets groaned from the pressure of the water rushing through the pipes. I didn't recognize the red-headed thing in the mirror. Who knew green eyes could be so dull? I dressed quickly, ran back to my room to grab my bag off my bed, and then ran for the door. I wasn't quick enough, though. She caught me. *THWAK* A hard slap across my face had my ears ringing. "Mom, stop!" I grabbed her wrist before she could smack me again. Hot tears were pricking my eyes; she was off her meds again and had been for far too long this time. "Get your little slutty ass to school. I know you were up all night trying to get Teddy to f**k you." She spat in my face and shoved me towards the door. Any initiative I had to fight with her about her accusations was long gone. Years of her mental health hanging by a thread would do that to anyone. Hell, Teddy is just another one of her hallucinations that she has been dating for two years. I think she will kill me one day over him and our affair, and as much as that used to scare me, it would be a welcome comfort now. The halls of this place are just another reminder of the things I can't do right. The people who are supposed to be "peers" and/or "friends" make sure their attendance is perfect so they can try to ruin me daily, and, without fail, the sea of people parted from me like I was contagious. My mother's whelped handprint was across my tear-streaked face, and even though I visibly had a hard morning, they added to the mix of bull s**t threatening to push me over the edge. "Ms. Montgomery, a word, please?" Mr. Rockland popped his head out of his office, asking for my presence. Reluctantly, I stepped inside, knowing he was probably about to rip me one for missing P.E. this morning, but it was just another thing. One more thing to add to the never-ending pile. "Who gave you the shiner?" His smirk told me he thought I got this here and that it was funny. "I fell," I smirked, feeling satisfied with my one small victory when the smile fell from his face. "Listen, I heard you were good at school." His question made no sense to me, and yet he looked at me like I was the one who was a french fry short of a happy meal. "I need someone to tutor Grant. We have a big game coming up, and the team needs him." My jaw dropped. "Grant? As in… captain of the football team, Grant? I laughed until my ribs hurt from the unfamiliar sensation. "No," I admit, it was almost tempting. Handsome, successful, apparently airheaded Grant Conley. He is definitely fun to look at, but he is an a.s.s, and that ruins it all for me. "No?" He asked me, standing up to close his office door. "No," I repeated. "Do you want to pass your senior year, Lennon?" Am I being blackmailed right now? "I will pass my senior year, Mr. Rockland. I work hard, and my grades show that." My graduation is the only thing holding my freedom from this Podunk town and the shitty people in it. "Really?... Mrs. Rockland, your second-period teacher, and my wife, who is the one who recommended you as the tutor, said you were Grant's best choice. She also said if you disagreed, she would fail you. Like I said, Lennon. The team needs Grant. Meet him in the library at 3. You two can have the whole space every day until four in the evening. Have him ready in two weeks, or I will ensure you never get away from your crazy ass mother. Capeesh?" Yes, Mr. Rockland… capeesh. I nodded and left the office. I needed to wash my face or cry… or maybe just leave. If I didn't have work after school, I would go home and pray I got around my mom unnoticed so I could hide in bed. I don't know when the depression got so heavy, but here I am with it weighing me down so badly that I feel like I have concrete in my shoes, and my head is pounding from the tension gathering in my shoulders. I couldn't pay attention in my classes. The only thing on my mind was how I would make it through associating with Grant Conley every day for the next two weeks. That doesn't even sound fun. At least he is handsome. At the end of the day, I flopped down at a table in the stacks, waiting for his highness to arrive. 3:15… 3:30… 3:45… The door opened and shut with a slam, and Grant and his best friend Carter came into the library, talking about some party they would have at the lake after prom. It was like he didn't realize he was forty-five minutes late for this tutoring thing I was forced into to graduate. "You're late," I grumbled, sliding the open book across the table that was turned to this week's assignment. "This is the assignment for this week. Sit down, and we can review it so I know what you need." I couldn't even make eye contact with him. This will never work. Carter scoffed at me, fist-bumping Grant, leaving us alone in the stacks. "Here's the deal, Lennon. I need to know this stuff, sure. But just for this week, could you use your big, beautiful brain to help a guy out this week? Then, next week, I will be on time, and I will work hard. I promise!" He covered his heart with his hand. "I have work." I jumped to my feet and started putting my books away. I ran from the library with Grant calling after me. The whole walk to Bill's Diner was fuzzy. I can't believe his arrogant ass. This is my freedom that he is f*****g with here, and I know that if I were to tell Mr. Rockland that Grant wanted me to do it for him, I would be the one that got screwed over. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I went into the diner and started my shift on autopilot. "Order up." The cook rang the service bell, snapping me out of it. It's been me for the last two hours because the other waitress had to run home to a sick child. Which is fine. I won't have to split tips for this time, and I don't have kids, but I am sure it isn't easy when they are sick. The last three orders were out, things were running smoothly, and now I can clean up while I wait for tables to need me. The doorbell ding wasn't enough to get my attention, and man… I wish I would've looked up. "Welcome to Bill's. How many?" I stood from under the counter where I had been stocking straws and silverware to see Grant looking me dead in the eyes. Carter, Alyssa, and Alice were all there. The four people who I would give my left leg to never see me here were looking me dead in the eyes. I broke out in a cold sweat. I had to fight my hands to steady themselves. "Four? Booth or table, and what can I get you to drink?" I went through all the formalities before giving them their drinks and menus. My cheeks were red hot, and even with the air conditioner blowing in the diner, it wasn't keeping me from burning inside out. "I am so sorry about that!" Jennifer came back looking as disheveled as I was. "Goodness, you are burning up! Are you getting sick too?" I flinched when she went to touch my forehead. "I'm fine. Just some kids from school came in. I wasn't expecting it, that's all." I dropped back down to finish stocking the counter. "I will take that table then. Go take a break, Lennon." I didn't miss how she reached out to touch me again and then changed her mind. She knows now, too. She will treat me like I am contagious from now on… just like everyone else. I stepped out into the alley, taking in the warm summer evening. I don't usually smoke, but when the cook's cigarettes caught my eye on the table, I took one, inhaling the first draw of it deeply. I stood there hoping that if someone was up in the sky listening, they would hear me begging for relief. I need this to be over; I need the pain to stop. But no, nothing from the above took me out of my misery. The rest of the shift went off as usual. It got much easier when Grant and his friends left, but that heaviness I had been carrying around all day inside of my shoes just kept getting heavier and heavier. The whole way home, it was like the entire planet was baring down on my chest as if that weren't enough. I opened the front door to a ransacked house. Mom was nowhere to be found, but her liquor bottles were shattered everywhere, and the furniture had been turned over. Two hours and a lot of Band-Aids later, I finally fell into bed, praying once more that if there were someone really there, they would hear my call. Maybe when she gets back, she will think that it never happened because the house was cleaned after her rampage, and she will just go on to bed. Or maybe… maybe tonight is the night she sneaks in to end the misery. Just imagine my disappointment when the low buzzing of my alarm clock broke me from the only peace of mind I ever get. I made sure to give myself extra time to leave the house this morning. I couldn't handle a repeat of yesterday. Getting caught up in her chaos is only a sour reminder of what I will look like if I live to see thirty-five. I fooled myself into thinking today would be a good day just because I had time to stop for coffee. I don't often treat myself, but I did this morning, and it was ignorant to think that one cup of coffee would change my life. "Freak." "Pathetic." "Ugly." The whispers in the hall were no different than usual. The coffee did seem to make their whispers quitter, and for that, I was thankful. Unfortunately, my thankfulness was short-lived when Grant's f**k buddy Alyssa Sinclair caught me at my locker, slamming my fingers into the sharp metal with a clank. "I don't know what you are planning, but you had better not speak to Grant outside of those library stacks, and if he doesn't pass and the team loses the championship, I will make sure your pathetic ass doesn't have working legs to walk the graduation stage." She stormed away with a flip of her hair, leaving me to fight the locker door open on my own. The blood ran down my hand as the metal dug deeper into my skin. Finally, I stopped fighting, forcing myself to get control of the pain radiating from my hand and the anger washing through my already haywire system. I wanted to rip her head off and lay down and die all at the same time, and if that isn't a f****d up confusion, I don't know what it is. "You are late, Ms. Montgomery." Hissed Ms. Hundley. I wanted to scream at her for worrying about my tardiness when my damn hand was crushed, but she saw it when I turned. Her face paled, and she ran to me to help me pry the door open. My fingers didn't look broken; they just busted up good. "What happened, Lennon?" Ms. Hundley asked, trying to wrap my hand up in her handkerchief. "Nothing." I snatched my hand away from her and turned to go to the nurse. I knew if I didn't, I would break over and cry my sorrows to the only teacher in this building who ever seemed to give a rat's ass about me. Instead, I snapped at her, and I hated myself for that. If she started treating me as an untouchable virus, I would have lost the only person who offered me any kindness I had accepted. The nurse wanted to call my mother, and in a panic, I came up with a lie from the seat of my pants about why she couldn't come down and pick me up. Much to my surprise, she let me sign myself out. I ran home, climbing up the tree that would lead me through my window, and just like every time something like this happens, I pulled the kit from under my bed and started stitching the deep wounds closed. I was getting used to numbing physical pain. I would give my two front teeth to be able to numb my mental pain in the same way, but a girl like me… I could never get so lucky. With the wounds closed off, there was only one thing left that I could think of doing. If I hurry back to school, I can finish the day, tutor Grant, and then do my shift at Bill's. I can hear my mom talking to God knows what downstairs and trying to stay there with her that way, I just can't do it. I climbed back down the tree, careful not to snag my hurt hand, and within twenty-five minutes, I was back at my desk in school. But I could barely pay attention to anything besides the throbbing in my hand. Luckily, I had some ibuprofen left in my locker. However, it still didn't cut it because, by the time I got into the last period, it was throbbing so bad I couldn't focus on anything but the beating of my heart radiating through each stitched area. I waited in the stacks just like yesterday. Sweat soaked my forehead, and no matter the distraction, I couldn't stop looking at the stitches across the top of my index finger. If I paid enough attention, it was almost like I could see it throb every time my heartbeat. I didn't expect Grant to arrive on time, so when he walked through those doors alone at three o'clock, I forced myself to stop focusing on my finger and give his studies my attention. Showing up on time shows initiative; if he wants to put in the effort to graduate, I will ensure he does.
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