1
“Abla,” my mother said, pulling my attention away from my breakfast.
I looked up at her, my spoon paused halfway from my mouth, and I immediately noticed the strange look on her face that made my stomach feel uneasy.
“What?” I asked, already suspicious.
“I waited to tell you something,” she said, her hands moving together nervously like she was unsure how to say it.
I shrugged my shoulders and let out a short laugh. “What? Did Dad change his mind and decide I can go live with him?”
“No, but…” She paused, took a breath, and then said, “I have a new boyfriend, and in a few days’ time he will be living with us.”
“Say what now?” I asked, my heart dropping so suddenly it felt like the air had been knocked out of her chest.
“I—”
I did not let her finish, instead I pushed my chair back and stood up, the sound loud and sharp in the quiet kitchen. “This house is Dad’s.”
“No, it is not,” ,y mother replied, her tone firm.
“It sure as fuck isn’t yours either,” I snapped, my voice shaking even though I was trying to sound strong. I turned to walk away, but the anger and hurt were too much, and I stopped myself at the door. “You are such a bitch. It has been two days. Just two days since Dad left, and you already moved on like none of it mattered.”
“You do not get to talk to me like that,” my mom yelled as I walked away.
I did not turn around because I knew if I did, I would break. I grabbed her bag, walked out of the house, and slammed the front door behind me as I left for school, the sound echoing through my chest.
“I cannot believe her,” I muttered to myself as I walked down the driveway, my hands clenched tightly at my sides.
Two days was all it took. Two days and she was already replacing him, already acting like Dad had never existed. I felt a tight pain settle in my chest, and it made it hard to breathe as I thought about all the years, all the arguments, and all the quiet moments that were suddenly being erased.
I kicked a small rock across the lawn and watched it roll away. “A boyfriend,” I said under my breath, my voice bitter. “Living with us.” The thought of a stranger walking into my father’s house, sitting where he used to sit, and acting like he belonged there made my stomach twist.
My eyes burned, and tears tried to rise, but I forced them back because I refused to cry over someone who clearly did not care enough to wait.
“She did not even ask me,” I whispered to myself, my voice cracking as the words left my mouth. “She did not even care how I felt.”
When the school building came into view, I slowed down, my chest heavy with dread. Home already did not feel like home anymore, and now school felt like just another place where I was expected to pretend everything was fine.
I wrapped her arms around myself as I walked up the steps, trying to hold myself together. “I hate this,” I murmured quietly. “I hate her. I hate everything.”
“Hate everything, huh?” my best friend Beth asked as she and Terry walked up to me, both of them slowing when they saw my face.
“Why do you look like that?” Terry added, tilting her head like she was already bracing herself for bad news.
I sighed and turned away from them, walking the few steps to my locker because I knew if I opened my mouth right then, my voice would crack. I yanked the locker open harder than necessary, the metal clanging echoing down the hallway. I stood there pretending to look for something, even though my bag was already slung over my shoulder.
“Alba, are you okay?” Beth asked softly, stepping closer.
I leaned forward and stuck my head inside my locker, breathing in the familiar smell of books and metal and dust. “My mom told me her boyfriend is coming to live with us,” I said, my voice muffled but honest.
“Boyfriend?” Beth repeated, pulling back slightly. Her face twisted in disbelief. “Didn’t she and your dad just…” She trailed off, biting her lip.
She did not need to finish. The sentence hung there between us, heavy and ugly.
After years of being married to my dad, she cheated on him. She got caught and everything blew up.
I remembered the shouting, the slammed doors, my dad leaving with nothing but a duffel bag and his dignity. And now this. Now she was already moving someone else into the house like none of it mattered.
“So do you know who it is?” Beth asked after a moment.
I shook my head, still staring into the locker. “No. I did not even know she was seeing someone. I honestly thought that after she got caught, that was it. That she would at least pretend to feel bad for a while.”
Terry let out a low whistle. “That is messed up. Like, really messed up.”
I finally straightened and closed my locker, resting my forehead against it for a second. “She said it like it was no big deal. Like she was telling me we were out of milk. He will be here there in a few days. That was it. No warning. No apology.”
Beth reached out and squeezed my arm. “I am sorry. You do not deserve that.”
The bell rang, loud and shrill, snapping us out of the moment. We started walking toward class together, our footsteps syncing automatically like they always did. The hallway buzzed with noise, lockers slamming, people shouting across the space, laughter bouncing off the walls, but everything felt distant to me.
“You are still coming over this weekend, right?” Beth asked carefully.
“I do not know,” I admitted. “I might just lock myself in my room and pretend none of this is happening.”
Terry gave a small smile. “You are allowed to disappear sometimes. Just do not disappear forever.”
We reached the intersection where our schedules split. Beth and Terry turned left, and I went straight. I paused for a second, watching them walk away, wishing I did not feel so alone even in a crowded hallway.
My class was already half full when I walked in. I slid into my seat near the front out of habit, pulling out my notebook and pen, arranging everything neatly like I always did. On paper, I was a star student. Perfect grades, teachers who loved me, counselors who talked about scholarships and future plans like my life was already mapped out. But my mind refused to cooperate. The words on the board blurred together as the teacher started talking, her voice fading in and out as my thoughts drifted back home.
A stranger in my house. Sitting at our table. Sleeping in my dad’s bed.
I clenched my jaw and forced myself to take notes, my handwriting precise even though my thoughts were a mess.
Focus, I told myself.
Just get through the day.
I answered questions when called on, nodded at the right moments, and kept my head down. No one would have guessed that my chest felt tight or that my stomach twisted every time I thought about going home.
By the time lunch rolled around, my head ached from pretending everything was fine.
I met Beth and Terry by the lockers, and the three of us walked toward the cafeteria together. The smell of food hit us before we even reached the doors, greasy and overwhelming.
We were halfway down the hallway when Beth suddenly nudged my arm.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “Look.”
I looked up and saw Mr. Fuller walking toward us, clipboard tucked under his arm, sleeves rolled up just enough to show his forearms. He was one of the teacher’s aides, young, sexy in an effortless way, and definitely the subject of way too many whispered conversations.
He glanced at us and smiled, warm and quick, like he genuinely recognized us as people and not just students. “Afternoon,” he said casually as he passed.
I felt my face heat up instantly. Beth froze for half a second, her mouth slightly open, before snapping out of it.
“Did you see that?” she hissed as soon as he was out of earshot.
“He smiled at us,” Terry said, grinning. “Specifically, at me. I am pretty sure that was meant for me.”
Beth rolled her eyes. “Please. He does that thing where he smiles like he is in a movie. It should be illegal.”
I laughed despite myself, the tension in my chest easing just a little. “You are both ridiculous.”
We grabbed our trays and sat at our usual table, the cafeteria loud around us with overlapping conversations and clattering trays. Beth leaned in, lowering her voice like she was sharing classified information.
“Okay, so I heard that he is only twenty-four,” she said. “And that he used to be a college athlete before switching majors.”
“And I heard he broke up with his girlfriend over the summer,” Terry added. “Which obviously means nothing, but also everything. Like, I might have a change.”
I shook my head, smiling as I picked at my food. “You two are hopeless.”
“Admit it,” Beth said, pointing her fork at me. “You noticed him too.”
I hesitated for just a second, then shrugged. “I noticed that he is nice. And that he actually looks at people when he talks to them.”
“That is how it starts,” Terry said dramatically. “First it is eye contact. Then it is destiny.” She leaned in closer. "That's how it started for Monica, and now I hear that they fuck every day in his classroom after school.''
"That's just a rumor,'' Beth said, rolling her eyes. "I bet she started it herself to feel important.''
Their banter washed over me, comforting in its normalcy. For a few minutes, I forgot about my mom, about the boyfriend, about the knot waiting for me at home. I just listened, laughed, and let myself exist in the moment with my friends, even if I knew it would not last forever.
Still, as the bell rang signaling the end of lunch, that familiar heaviness settled back into my chest. No matter how normal school felt, my life outside these walls was already changing, whether I was ready for it or not.
