don´t turn back
9/3 [Mariette]
The sun was setting and the air was getting fresh and breezy. My legs were lying heavy on the rattan chair in our garden. On the opposite chair, right next to my resting legs, was Vera. She stared at her phone, the low light reflecting on her round glasses. ″What do you think of this dress ?″, she asked holding up her phone to show me a picture of a beautiful ivy-colored dress.
″Matches your hair″, I answered. Vera and I have been best friends ever since primary school.
It’s always been Vera and Mariette. Like we were glued together, if you saw me, Vera wasn’t far and the other way around.
The glass door opened and the yellow light from the living room shined on the stone ground of the newly made terrace.
″Girls, it’s getting late! You have school tomorrow.″ My mom.
I turned my head towards her direction and showed a thumbs up. Vera stood up and stretched her arms towards the sky while stifling a yawn.
″I’m getting tired too″, she murmured:″Come on up‴
She pulled me to my feet and we went back into my house.
Oakview isn’t that big, big enough for a high school but too small for a college or a mall.
Before we moved here, we lived in New York City, but my parents decided that that might not be the best place for a little girl to grow up. While in New York you’re lucky to maybe get to know the last name of your upper neighbor, you know almost everyone in Oakview. When we were kids everyone from my street used to play together outside. Or sometimes when we were lucky Kayle’s parents let us play in their pool. Those were probably the best times because generally nothing happens or no one happens. I think that the most successful person who lived here studied later in Europe but that’s it. I mean maybe Miles’s dad, who died for our country in the military.
Vera is fast asleep, but she could fall asleep while a firework is going on and a dog is barking right in her face. I don’t know how she does that.
We are huddled into a mountain of pillows, plushies, and covers. My room is cold and it smells like cinnamon, Veras perfume, and candy, my perfume. We bought them together.
I stare at the ceiling. My dad put a ton those self-illuminating stars on it when I was seven and couldn’t sleep. He told me to count them and by the time, I would get to the last one, I’d already be on the train to dreamland. And that’s what I’ve been doing ever since when I can’t sleep.
Which lately has become more and more. There could be a lot of reasons for that; first of definitely school, the exams are stressful and I study a lot, second maybe the butterflies in my stomach and then the itching feeling in the back of my head, because I can’t talk about that feeling with anyone. Not even Vera.
I look over to her. She’s pretty. When I was younger, I was jealous. Sometimes.
With her long lashes, a slightly crooked nose, long straight brown hair, and slim fingers. She got her nails done only two weeks ago, classic in French, but the one her left ring finger is already missing. I smile softly and turn my head to face hers, close my eyes and start dreaming of deers running through dark forests.
My alarm sound was getting louder and louder with every second passing, a setting I should’ve changed a while ago. I blink against the sun rays falling through my lacy curtains. When I look to my side, Vera was putting a pillow over her head, trying to block out the sounds.
I tap her back:‴Come on, you don’t wanna be late″
″Maybe I do″, she muffled from her fortress.
″Well, I don’t″, and stood up to go to the bathroom and get ready.
When I came back Vera was pulling a hoodie over her short top.
Mornings are always heavy, especially when you have to write a math exam later.
We ate our cornflakes, Vera with a wild mix of not-so-well-cut fruits and me with just plain oat milk, because then the cornflakes don’t get so soggy. My mom sat across from us at our birchwood table reading the newspaper. Cora, my cat, was napping on the chair next to her on Cora’s favorite blanket. ″You guys ready for school ?″, my mom asked not looking up from her article. I shook my head while Vera murmured:″Not really″ My mom chuckled, put her newspaper down, drank a sip from her coffee (with no sugar, no milk !), and stood up leaving us alone.
Shortly before 7:30 am, we were standing ready at the gateway of my house, well to be honest I was sitting on the curb, while Vera was standing next to me.
″Mariette. What do you think of Jay?″, she suddenly asked.
″What? Do you mean the one from Geography ?″
″Yeah″
″He’s alright. I guess. I never really talked with him or anything.″
″And.. from the looks ?″
I stayed quiet for a second, trying to recall how he looks.
″Not my type.″ I shrugged.
″That’s because your type is either a 40-year-old or fictional man.″
″Definitely not forty-year-olds!″, I complained.
Before she could respond a red car pulled up. On the driver seat Nathan and right next to him Willow, a.k.a our taxi to school.
″My favorite girls !″, Willow exclaimed waving her hands out of the window. When we sit down in the backseat I pull out my phone to check if I got any new messages. Willow and Vera are debating whether DC or Marvel has the better cinematics, Nathan is just shaking his head at every new argument.
″DC or Marvel? Marie ?″; Willow questioned, both of the girls staring at me.
″Don’t say something, you will regret !″; Vera jokingly warns.
″Don’t listen to her″; Willow interrupts.
″I don’t know″; I shrug:″Never really watched any of these movies″
″What ?″; I hear Nathan exclaim. Both Willow and Vera stare at me like I just said I don’t know how to make a sandwich.
″You’re weird, sometimes, you know that″; Willow is shaking her head, her long curls falling down her shoulders.
″It’s okay to be different. I still accept you″, Vera hugs me from my side.
I laugh to myself and hug her back.
The drive to school wasn’t long and we discussed the math exam. Willow is in the algebra club so she knows way too much confusing stuff, which I never even would’ve thought about. Nathan is just trying to pass, so doesn’t have to go to summer school, Vera made a deal with Jasper, another algebra-club guy, to pass her some notes and I actually did study but maybe I’ll also have to get into the Jasper deal.
We part in the hallway, Willow, Nathan, and Vera leave for their course in English history, while I turn right and go to the second floor. The School is quite old and that’s exactly the atmosphere you get from walking through the hallway. On the left side are the lockers, and on the right side windows and in between posters. Mostly for homecoming but some of them are also against bullying and stuff that principals put up so that their school can be chosen for the most open-minded and diverse school in the county.
The classroom is already half full, I’m one of the last people arriving. I sit down next to the window, far away from Killian - he just smells like death - and also right next to Olivia and behind Noah. Olvia is already there, sorting her notes, which are all written neatly and underlined with expensive pastel text markers. ″Did you do the homework ?″; She asks looking up from her papers. ″Of course″; I lie. I’m not that bad in economy, I’ll just do it all before we write the exam and I’ll probably still get an A or B. ″Where’s Noah ?″; I ask, looking at his empty seat. Normally he’s one of the first people to arrive. Olivia turns around to his desk:″I don’t know, he didn’t tell me anything. Maybe he is sick‴’Rare Occurrence″, I joke, which gets a smile out of Olivia. I pack out my stuff - my iPad and a light pink water bottle - and start rereading my notes from the last class. The sun is slowly getting covered by dark clouds and the trees that are all lined up right outside the window are starting to sway harder with the wind. Not long after it starts to rain.
I’m halfway through my first period; economics, when I get a hallway pass. I’m sitting on the toilet, with my phone in my hands texting Vera, Willow, and Nathan how horrible my teacher is explaining, when suddenly I get a message from an unknown number.
I don’t think much of it, there are lots of people whose numbers I have, without saving them to my contacts.
The message reads:
You’ve been getting excellent grades in history lately. But surely that’s because you study really hard right? Don’t worry your little secret is safe with me. At least until the time runs out.
