10 | back in time

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I spot Haven in the school yard the moment I step out of my mother's car

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I spot Haven in the school yard the moment I step out of my mother's car.

She seems to have taken notice of me as well. Her features brighten as she grins my way, offering a wave. I return the gesture before turning to close the passenger door. I don't miss the expression my mother wears as her gaze bounces from mine to Haven's. She's trying much too hard to look nonchalant.

"Just ask," I groan before closing the door, knowing all too well what my mother is thinking.

Mom's eyes glitter eagerly. "Is that her?" she whispers, despite there being no necessity for her to keep her tone low. Haven is hundreds of feet away, definitely out of earshot.

"Yes, Mom." I sound more agitated than I am. "That's her. My friend, okay?"

Mom purses her lips, no doubt trying to tuck away her excitement. However, her eyes still shimmer hopefully. "Yep," she says. "Got it. Have a good day, honey."

I hesitate only a moment before responding. I'm still trying to get used to this–Mom being a part of my life again. It's confusing, the way I feel about her. Part of me still resents her; part of me still wants nothing to do with her. But there's still a little girl within me who wants nothing more than her mother, especially after all that has happened.

I swallow down my pride. "Thanks," I say softly. Before I can think better of it, I add, "You too." Then I close the door, remaining in place as my mother drives off, watching her go.

I shift, adjusting the strap of my bag as I make my way toward the school building. I notice Haven walking my way out of the corner of my eye. I'm smiling as she joins my side–an effortless smile, a genuine smile.

"Hey," she chirps casually in greeting.

"Hi." My tone is bashful. I don't know how or why Haven makes me so nervous. The good kind of nervous, the type that comes with jumbled nerves and butterflies.

"Get this," Haven begins as we enter the building side-by-side, rushing into a story as if we've known each other for years–as if we know each other at all–"I already have a chem project due by the end of the week. Can you believe that? The year literally started yesterday."

I eye Haven as she speaks, taking in her sapphire eyes and rosy cheeks. I like this about Haven, her bubbly persona. I wonder if this is just a trait of hers–the ability to make someone so comfortable because she's so easily kind.

"What's the project on?" I question as we roam the halls, weaving through growing clusters of students.

Haven rolls her big blue eyes. "I have to make a periodic table," she clarifies. "It's so dumb. We're seniors, not second graders. Whatever, though. Do you have a lot of homework yet?"

I shrug. "I have some reading to do for English. But you know that, considering you're in the same class."

Haven laughs breezily. She seems as if she hasn't a care in the world, always so at ease. I envy this about her. I wish I could be as light, as free, as gentle. I used to be, once upon a time. Before everything.

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