Maddie: Three Years Ago
Maybe it's sleeping in a room where pictures of the past constantly surround me. Or maybe it's being in this house again, and in this town where so many of the best and worst moments of my life happened. Whatever the reason, when I dream that night, I am haunted by my memories of this place.
-
I clutch a bag of melted-frozen peas over my bruised fist and try not to mope about the unfairness of the world. I'm also trying not to think of what my dad's reaction will be when he gets a call from the principal's office asking him to pick me up early and telling him I got into a fight. On my first day of school.
The hallways outside of the office are quiet at this time of day. It's just after the last lunch period and all the other so-called 'sane' students are happily learning in their respective classes. I, on the other hand, am waiting to be read the riot act.
There's only one other person nearby and it's the school's secretary. I see her typing away by her desk. Every once in a while, she lifts her head away from her computer and gives me a sympathetic smile. When I was marched in here a little while earlier, she leaned in conspiratorially and let me know that she would've done the same thing. Then she told me she'd call my dad and our sisterhood sizzled and died.
With the bag of peas now relatively useless, I remove the packet from my hand. I flex it a few times before folding it onto my lap. I am a little bit ashamed of myself, now that I see my cracked, oozing knuckles. If my hand looks this bad, I can only imagine what the guy I punched looks like.
I'm saved from my shame spiral when a door opens and two students pass by the secretary carrying some kind of sculpture.
"Well, what's all this now?" Miss Anderson enquires when she sees the two boys set down the heavy-looking ornament.
"It's the top of the school fountain. The shop teacher asked us to bring it in here after one of the students almost broke it," answers the shorter boy. My gaze goes to the taller one standing a little behind him. He's so tall I have to raise my head just to see his face. He's got a nice jaw, I think and then quickly turn my head away when he glances in my direction. I sink deeper into the chair I'm sitting on, hoping he didn't think I was checking him out.
"That's so good of you boys to bring it up here for him! It looks like such a heavy piece. Why don't you grab some water from the cooler and have a rest before you go on back to class?" Suggests the overly cheery secretary. I don't think I've ever met someone so perky on a Monday.
The two seem grateful for her suggestion. Now that she mentions it, the two do seem a little bit out of breath. The boy that spoke to her does as she says and gets a cup. He then not so subtly splashes the back of his reddening neck with the water.
The other boy, however, crosses over the room and takes a seat in the chair next to mine.
"Hi," I say, covering my hand a little more when he stretches his long legs out in front of him.
"Hey," he answers and I almost close my eyes when I hear how deep his voice is.
We're silent for a moment. The only sounds are the click-clacking of Miss Anderson's computer and the other boy's gulps as he drinks his third glass of water. I watch him crumple the styrofoam cup, toss it into the nearby bin, and then grab another fresh cup. Why didn't he just reuse the first one?
"I haven't seen you before," muses the boy beside me.
I almost squeak, realizing he's been quietly watching me this whole time. "Oh, today is my first day here."
"And the principal is giving you the welcome speech now?" He says, his voice slightly disbelieving. I look up into his eyes and get lost for a moment. He has an old, romantic look about him. His eyelashes are long and shield his dark eyes.
"No. He gave me his spiel this morning. I'm here because I got in trouble." I almost say 'fight' but I don't want him to think I'm a psychopath.
"What'd you do?" He asks, curiosity and half a smile entering his expression.
"I was hoping you wouldn't ask me that," I trail off with a sigh.
Unfortunately, Miss Anderson, ever the feminist, comes to my aid with an explanation for the boys.
"I'm surprised you didn't hear about the fight already. Our new student was quite the force to be reckoned with. One of the boys from the football team put his unwanted hands on her and Maddie really showed him!" Miss Anderson says, pumping her fist into the air.
Lord, let this ground open and swallow me up, I pray as I feel both boys stare at me.
"Oh," is all the one says and goes back to drinking water. Where is he putting it all? If I drank that much, my bladder would explode.
The one sitting next to me just smirks. When I turn to look at him, he falls fully onto his chair and turns his head away so that I can't see his perfect teeth.
"What's so funny?" I hiss, picking up the bag of peas once again. He senses my movements and snatches the bag before I can hide my hand again. He picks up my hand in his and brings it to his face to examine it. I quickly pull it out of his loose grasp and tuck it under my butt so that it's out of everyone's sight. I wince at the extra pressure on my hand. I really hope I don't get blood on these jeans.
"If that's what your hand looks like, I'd hate to see the other guy," He says, amusement in his voice.
"It's not that bad... I just have sensitive knuckles," I explain.
"That's not true. Maddie knocked Mason Reeve out cold. He's in the nurse's office as we speak." Miss Anderson, again, unhelpfully explains.
"Wow. That's impressive. Mason has one of the hardest heads I've ever known." The boy tells me. He runs a hand over his dark hair and I can't help but follow the movement with my eyes. "So what did he do to deserve such a beating?" He asks, even though the secretary already explained what happened. I wonder if it's because he doesn't believe the story or if it's because he wants to hear what happened from me.
"I only hit him once!" I defend. "He grabbed my ass so I punched his face." Fair is fair, I think. If a boy can put his unwanted hands on me, I can put my unwanted hands on him.
"So that deserves being punched?" Asks the other boy, seemingly done with consuming the water in the cooler. He runs a hand over his ruddy face looking at me like I'm some kind of psycho-jock-puncher.
"Hey, the way I see it, if Mason touched her like that then he needed to learn the consequences of his actions," says the boy sitting next to me. I have to hide the smile I'm now wearing with my hand. I wish I could drag this guy into the meeting as my high school defense attorney. Lord knows I need the support.
The principal opens the door to his office and sticks his head out. "Maddie Culkin? You can come in so long." I have no doubt that's code for, let-me-lay-down-the-law-before-your-dad-arrives-and-has-an-aneurysm.
I stand up to follow the principal in but a hand snakes out and catches my wrist, stopping me in my tracks.
"You're not Josh's sister, are you? I know he also started school here today..." The boy asks, already looking like he knows the answer. After all, if he knows Josh, he's probably linked us with the surnames.
"Yeah," I say, freeing myself of his grip. His eyes shut and he sighs.
"That's too bad," He says standing up as well.
"How do you know Josh?" I ask, guessing he can't be too chummy with him if they'd just met today.
"He stayed at my house when he and your dad came here last summer," He answers. I nod as the realization hits. Last year, my dad and brother flew down here to look at potential colleges. I always thought they were looking at places for my brother to study at. It turns out, they were looking at places for my father to work as a professor.
I have a vague recollection of seeing a picture stuck up on our old fridge in our home in New York, before we moved here. In the picture, my brother and a boy, who looks a lot like the one I'm talking to, stand next together smiling. I guess this kid made an impression on my usually unfriendly brother.
"Yeah, my dad's friends with your dad, right?" I ask, my hand on the door to the principal's office.
"It's my mom, actually," he says but before I can ask him more about it, the principal shuts the door behind me.
-
I wake up after a boom of thunder rattles the window frames in the living room. I sit up in my temporary couch-bed and see I left one of the windows wide open. I run across the room to close it, hoping not too much rain got into the house. The curtain feels damp in my hands as I swivel it closed over the window once more. The room seems eerie now that the room is quiet again. I can still hear the pitter-patter of rain but it doesn't dominate the room like it did a second ago.
I decide to turn on one of the lamps in the room in order to get rid of the creep factor. Rooms like this are too big to sleep in. There's so much furniture in here and it makes me feel like a kid waiting for a monster to jump out from under the table or one of the numerous chairs. I slump back down on the couch, pulling a blanket over to cover my lap. I gently massage my forehead as if I could exorcise the dream I was having. If only it was a dream and not an almost-forgotten memory.
My eyes scan the room absently as I try and will myself back to sleep. It's only when I feel my lids get heavy that I realize something: Not one of the pictures in the room is of me.