The teacher’s voice echoes emptily through my mind, but the words have no meaning to me. The bell rings in the distance, but the sound of it merely slips into my head and then leaves as subtly as it came. Kids tramp out of the room, chattering loudly, but I find that I am frozen to my seat. All around me, the world is moving, but for me, all is still.
The teacher comes up to me, her voice kind but hardened. “Alyssa?” she asks, and I jerk my head up, and then lower it again when I see it’s only her. “Yeah?” I whisper, just loud enough for her to hear, but what she has to say does not matter so much anymore.
“It’s time to go now.” Her voice is cold, but not harsh.
I raise my eyebrows to acknowledge that I heard her, but my brain is just numb. No matter what I do, nothing will ever be the same. So I don’t move. Maybe she will put me into trouble, but that will mean nothing.
“Alyssa,” she snaps, and I can tell she’s frustrated. I raise my head and look her in the eyes. She’s looking at me with one eyebrow raised in impatience. “I have another class to teach now, and unless I am mistaken, you have another class to attend.” I still don’t move, and I see her grit her teeth together in carefully restrained anger. “What is with you today?” she says finally, a threatening edge to her voice.
I don’t know if she expects me to pour out my heart and soul to her or what, but I don’t answer, staring sullenly up at her.
“You’ve never made a show like this before.” She stares at me for a while, and I stare numbly at my desk, chewing my lip and hoping that she’ll realize that it’s futile and that I’m not going anywhere. Finally she clucks her tongue and shakes her head with an over-dramatic sigh. “Okay, Alyssa, as you wish.” She flings open the door, and I hear her say to the kids lined up outside, “Please come in.” As she says this, I drop my head down and rest it on my chin. I know I don’t have the courage to boldly look up at them.
They flood into the room, and I hear a kid ask, “Hey, what’s she doing here?” I don’t look up at him or say anything, but keep on staring at my desk as kids keep coming in. I wonder who in this other class sits at my desk, and what he’ll do when he realizes I’m in it.
I hear slow, heavy footfalls near me, and feel hot breath on the back of my neck, but I still don’t look up. I will never look up.
A thick, deep, rumbling voice. “Hey, uh, sorry to disturb you, but this is my desk.”
I don’t say a word, but stay firmly where I am. I still don’t look up.
“Oh, I see.” His voice is confused, but not angry. I hear him tramp over to a desk behind me and stand behind it. I know that the class is waiting for an explanation of why I am here, but she doesn’t offer one, and although no one says much more than that, I suspect some of them are throwing me curious looks. But I only listen in silence as the pledge of allegiance rings out, and chairs screech as the kids sit down.
Then the teacher plunges into a lesson, and I hear the sound of pen scratching on paper next to me. But my mind is far away, in a world that no one dares to go, no one wants to dream of, and no one ever, ever comes back from. The lesson is over quickly, but I never even realize that it went by.
Then the bell rings again. A whole class has gone by, and I have not once looked up from my desk. School is over, everything is over, and I still have not looked up. I am not sure I will ever be ready to move again. The kids drain out of the classroom.
“So?” The teacher’s voice is cold and crisp. “What now? Do you plan to stay in this room all night?”
I still don’t answer. I don’t know what I plan to do, but it doesn’t matter anymore.
“Alyssa, if something’s wrong, you know that you can tell me, right?”
I still say nothing.
The door bangs open, and my head instinctively jerks up, although I instantly regret it when I see who it is.
Marya tosses her head and strides over to me, her heels digging into the floor. She sits on the desk and stares at me with both eyebrows raised, and drums her fingers impatiently on the table. “Alyssa MacKenzie Gray,” she says in her crisp accent, each word sharp and well-pronounced. “What on earth do you think you are doing?”
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The teacher’s eyebrows shoot up, and she stares at Marya with a smile quirking at the corners of her mouth. I think she’s happy that Marya got me to raise my head, and I instantly drop it back to my chest again, trying to stop my cheeks from burning.
“Don’t put your head down on me, Lyssy,” Marya snaps, and I clamp my jaw shut to keep myself from screaming at her.
“You’re not in preschool anymore,” she says harshly. “You are eighteen years old, and so far above this.”
I say nothing, which seems to make Marya even madder. “You think you can just be silent and I’ll give up and walk away, huh?” she says with a snort. “Where did this come from, Lyssy?” she demands. “First you ditch class this morning and refuse to tell me where you went, and now this.” She gives a bitter laugh. “Oh, the mysteries of Alyssa Gray.”
I hear Marya say to the teacher, “Can you leave us alone, a second, please?”
“Are you sure you have this under control?”
“Of course I have this under control. I wouldn’t ask you to leave if I didn’t.”
It’s all that I can do to keep myself from snorting. Marya has nothing under her control. Neither do I.
I hear the door swing shut, and her footsteps fade away. When she is out of earshot, Marya grabs my chin and forces it up, and I find myself staring into Marya’s dark, accusing eyes.
“I’m waiting for an explanation, Lyssy,” she says pointedly. “Followed by an apology.”
“Apology for what?” I whisper hoarsely, hearing the cutting edge to my voice, but doing nothing to fight it. “Ditching class? ‘Cause you do that all the time.”
“Apologize for keeping secrets from me,” she demands, her dark eyes burning into my skin. “Apologize for not telling me-your best friend-where you went this morning.”
She lets go of my head, and crosses her arms, and I drop my head back down to my chest again to show her that I’m not doing anything.
“Okay, put your head back down on me,” she spits violently, and I grind my teeth together to keep tears from spilling out. “Marya, don’t be ridiculous,” I murmur under my breath.
“Ridiculous?” Marya says with a harsh laugh. “Ridiculous? Why don’t you get up and walk downstairs to dinner, and then you can call me ridiculous as much as you want.”
I open my mouth to answer, but before I can, the door bangs open, and I see a boy with dark chocolate skin and black eyes framed in the doorway. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him before, but when he opens his mouth to speak, and I hear his deep voice, I recognize him immediately as the boy who sits at my desk.
“I couldn’t help but overhear-” he says, and I feel a feeling ripple through me that I don’t recognize, although I tell myself that it’s anger, because he shouldn’t have been eavesdropping. Then Marya cuts him off with her sharp, criticizing voice. “What do you mean you couldn’t help it?” she snaps. “Of course you could help it.”
He frowns, and tilts his head to the side a bit, but I can tell that her words didn’t really affect him. “No, I really am sorry, I didn’t mean any offense.”
Marya’s voice is dripping with sarcasm. “Yeah, right.” She glowers at him, her eyes blazing. “What do you want?”
“I just want to see if she’s okay. I saw her in class and was a bit worried about her.”
I feel bitterness wash over me. Who does he think he is? I’m not a baby that people can cheer on and encourage. I don’t want his sympathy. I just want to be alone.
I drop my head down again, hoping that he’ll get the point and walk off. I don’t see his face, but he falls silent, and I think he sees me. Then, after a moment, I hear him say to Marya, “Hey, maybe we should just give her some space.”
I feel Marya’s hand tighten on my shoulder, and her voice is seething with anger as she responds. “She doesn’t need space,” Marya says loudly. “She needs to get up and join the world.”
“Maybe she’s not ready for that yet,” he says, his voice slow and steady.
“Then I need to make her ready,” Marya says, her voice barely below a yell. I hear her heels thunk against the ground, and I know that she has jumped off of the desk and is walking towards the boy. “I don’t need your help,” she snaps violently.
He is quiet for a moment, but then he says, “Alright, I understand.” Another silence. “But-” He cuts off abruptly, and I wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t. Then I hear the door swing shut, and I know that he must have left.
Then silence. I know Marya is waiting for me to say something, but I say nothing.
“Well? Do you have anything to say?”
I don’t reply. My brain is spinning, but I’m glad that he’s gone.
“Alyssa Gray, what in the world do you think you will accomplish?”
And something about those words slice through my haziness, and one thing becomes perfectly clear.
What will I accomplish?
Nothing.
What will I gain?
Nothing.
Anything that I accomplish will worm its way out of my fingers and leave me in the dust. Anywhere I go in life will only be yanked out from beneath my feet.
Still, I say nothing.