Heart | N.H.

six - the ways we break

 Niall didn't come pick me up on Monday.

Which was whatever. I hadn't expected him to, anyway. I went straight to the bus stop in the morning, but I couldn't help glancing back at my driveway every few minutes until the bus came. And I knew my parents would text me if he pulled up and I'd already left, telling me I was rude to not have told him he didn't have to come. They didn't text me. I didn't see him. He never showed up.

Classes seemed even longer that day, and not just because it was Monday. It felt like there was a heavy weight sitting in the middle of my stomach. All I wanted to do was curl up and never have to think about anything ever again, and it didn't help that the weather echoed my mood. Outside, the wind was throwing a fit, whipping fallen leaves and small branches across the parking lot with unholy vengeance. The entire world was sullen today.

During lunch, both of my friends noticed my despondence. Callie commented on it first, doing it in a classic Callie-esque way. Snatching my sandwich, she waved it in front of my face and hollered, "Yo, Miss Daydreamer, if you're going to waste the most precious period of the day staring off into the distance, can I eat your lunch?"

"Callie," sighed Annika, nudging her. "Try to have a little more emotional depth, would you? Miracle, what's wrong?"

I mustered up a fake smile. "Nothing; I'm just not feeling well."

Nodding understandingly, Callie said, "You're surfing that crimson wave. On a cotton pony."

Annika made a noise of disgust and pointed to her Oreos, mumbling, "Trying to eat here."

"I'm not on my period," I said, handing Callie the rest of my sandwich without protest. "I'm just not feeling great, 'kay?"

"'kay." And that was that. That was the great thing about my friends. They were there for me in a heartbeat when I needed them, but they also knew the right times to give me some space. Which was essential for someone like me.

After lunch, I somewhat put my chin up and got some learning done. For example, I learned that if one was quiet and sneaky about it, one could get away with eating three packets of Twinkies under Mrs. Nawbridge's beaky nose without her detecting you. Common sense said it would've been smarter to simply eat my sandwich at lunch when I'd had the chance, rather then stock up on junk food in English class, but whatever. 

I also learned that when Albert Pickenstein was absent, everyone was so relieved to be rid of his know-it-all comments that no one cared that I put my socked feet up on his desk. I made a mental note of this; it would probably come in handy in the future, since Albert tended to be absent more often than he was actually at school (I never noticed Principal Norridge comment or give him detention, of course). 

When the final bell rang at long last, I shoveled all my things into my backpack and broke for it. I was halfway to my locker when I heard someone calling my name. The thickness of the voice was unmistakable; not to mention, I didn't know anyone else at St. Stephen's who was Irish. A few people turned to look at me curiously, clearly puzzled as to why someone was trailing me, of all people, and hollering my name.

I did my best to ignore him. I calmly walked up to my locker, attempted to enter my combination five times, failed each time because my fingers were inexplicably shaking, and kicked the locker door as hard as I could in a form of vengeance. 

"Whoa, hey, calm down. You're going to break something, kitten." 

"How about I break your face."

Niall did the last thing I expected at that: he burst out laughing. I frowned, swallowing the frantic apology I'd just been about to blurt. "What, you don't take me seriously?"