I didn’t even notice I’d stopped breathing. That explains why pressure is starting to build in my forehead.
“The mean things they say about you are never true. They’re sad, so they want to make you sad as well.”
Unlacing our fingers, we drop down onto our bums and start picking at the grass.
“Can I ask you something, but you have to swear you’ll tell the truth?”
He nods, which is full of enthusiasm. “You know you can ask me anything, and I will never lie to you. We’re best friends.”
“Are you embarrassed to be friends with me?”
“Why would you think that? I could never be embarrassed by you. I love you!” he exclaims, punching me in the shoulder. “Stop being a butthead. Don’t let them make you sad.”
Shrugging, I keep my eyes forward. “I don’t want to be a butthead. It just feels like everyone wants to be your friend, and no one ever sees me.” I can’t believe I’m admitting this.
His finger swipes away the tears that trickled down my cheek. “If people don’t see you, then they’re just blind. I don’t know how you wouldn’t be able to see the sun, but I guess anything is possible.”
Punching his leg, which is leaning against mine, I send him a frown. “You say this now, but what happens when we’re older and it’s not cool to be friends with losers?”
“You’re not a loser, and you will never be one,” he huffs, resting his chin on his bent knee as he sends me a smile. “And anyway, we made a promise to each other. You haven’t forgotten it, have you?”
“Of course not.” Copying his actions, I give him all my attention. Most of the time, to me, he feels bigger than the entire world. “We’ll always be best friends,” I say, beating him before he can say anything else.
He nods while holding out his pinkie. “For infinity.”
I hook my finger around his, and he squeezes tight, like he’s trying to hold on forever.
“For infinity.”
LILY
PRESENT
A couple of years ago, I brutally realized noise was such a blessing.
The sound of Mom and Dad’s alarm clock blaring through what seemed like the entire house at seven a.m. The timer going off on the oven when breakfast was ready. Hearing footsteps all throughout the house, at all hours of the day. The muffledchatter as I lay awake in bed at night as a child. Hearing my parents place “Santa’s” presents under the tree. It didn’t matter if I’d just learned how to ride a bike or skate or if I’d graduated high school; I always heard them somewhere in the distance, knowing even the little things made them proud.
I always assumed they’d be here. Until I had gray hair and children of my own. I never expected I’d be surrounded by static silence so soon. I only hear my alarm clock now. Nobody but me cooks breakfast. I don’t celebrate my achievements because nothing has been achieved in a long time.
Silence haunts me now. I never thought I’d be alone. But I am. I’m an orphan, living in a house full of memories.
I hold back the sudden urge to scream up at the sky as I water my mother’s tulips, which she loved dearly, on our front lawn.
My parents died in a car crash three years ago. Dad died on impact, but it took Mom two days until she gained her wings and reunited with Dad. I knew she had been scared to leave me all alone. I could see it in her eyes. She was on her deathbed, but she’d still managed to put me first.
Ever since their funeral, my mind won’t stop thinking about ten things at once. Like, for starters, how both my parents are gone. I’m trying to learn how to be a responsible adult … but I feel like a kid. I’m the furthest thing from being rich. Every single penny counts now. Most days, I find myself eating cereal for dinner because the bills keep piling up.
There is nothing I want more than to keep my childhood home. It’s my parents’ legacy. Not only did they work countless hours to keep the heat on, but they built it from the ground up. When I’m home, it’s almost as if they’re with me.I can’t sell it, but if I don’t get a permanent teaching job soon, the bank might take it from me.
I’ve done countless interviews, but I’m still out of a job. The first five rejections were tough. I thought I’d never land a full-time position at a school. But then I realized I’m just one in a million people looking to become a teacher. Just because I’m having a hard time right now doesn’t mean I’ll forever be out of a job. For goodness’ sake, I’m only twenty-four. It could be worse, and I couldn’t have any substitute teacher jobs. At least that’ll keep me afloat while I feel like I’m going to drown in bills.
When I adjust the water pressure to the max, the poor red tulips standing up perky almost bend in half.
“Darling, what on earth are you up to? Your mother would have a heart attack.”
The scratchy voice belongs to my elderly neighbor, who is basically neighborhood watch. Trust me, I would know.
Laughing off my nosy neighbor, I adjust the water pressure with a fake, friendly laugh. “Don’t know where my head is at.”
