Sitting in the car on the way to the funeral, I pressed my forehead to the window pane. It wasn’t raining, as I felt it should be on such a horrible day. Instead the sun was high in the sky, and a summer breeze ruffled everyone’s dresses. Just the way my mom would have wanted it. What kind of twisted joke is it that a daughter has to arrange her own mother’s funeral? Luckily for me I turned most of it over to my aunt. They were best friends, and the past year or so had probably been the hardest for her more than anyone. I knew they talked on the phone every day, my mom from the hospital and my aunt from wherever she was, but I couldn’t help but feel bitter. Why had I been the only one by her bedside every day?
I sat through the speeches and tears numbly. It wasn’t until I was alone at home that I let myself cry. I spent the last weeks of summer secluded in my room. It had been awhile since I had hung out with my friends, because of constantly being with my mom. I knew none of them would come around; they wouldn’t know what to say. They had looked at me at the funeral like I was a ticking time bomb, and I was in no mood for sympathy. The days went by like nothing had happened but I knew it hadn’t truly hit me yet.
The morning of my first day of senior year, I steeled myself for whatever was coming. As I pulled into the parking lot, and slung my old backpack over my shoulder, I received the pity-filled stares I was expecting. I shrugged off the light touches and pats on the back, and slipped down the back hallway to the locker I’d had since I was in sixth grade. Our school runs from 6-12th grade. Hopefully with a campus this big I’d be able to avoid any pesky, obnoxious underclassmen today. I opened my locker, and tossed books in the back, fighting tears. This was the first day of school my mom had missed. No homemade breakfast, forced awkward first day of school pictures, or typical jokes. I missed her so much, and I missed myself too. As I stared at my reflection in the little magnetic mirror in my locker I knew my reflection could never do my emotions justice, and for that I was thankful. I wiped a smudge of mascara off my cheek, and shut my locker. I didn’t want to look at my sad face any longer. As I passed friendly faces in the halls I attempted a smile. I passed former teammates, and old friends I hadn’t really talked to in awhile. Nobody asked why I didn’t show up to soccer tryouts, or play auditions, or any other of the clubs I’m usually involved in. I think it was pretty obvious I was hanging on by a thread, and we all knew I wouldn’t be doing anything but getting myself through life for awhile.
I expected all of this. The sadness and emotional turmoil, the pity glances, the awkwardness. What I didn’t expect was what I saw next. As I rounded the corner, a group of sixth and seventh graders walked in a tight scared little huddle with some senior getting service hours by helping them around school. I averted my eyes in annoyance; at least they were still too scared to be obnoxious. Suddenly, I saw a familiar mop of messy brown curly hair and bright green eyes. I could not have been more surprised. As Dakota recognized me she broke away from the group with a huge grin on her face. The senior eyed me cautiously as if wondering if this enthusiastic little girl would break me, but as Dakota ran towards me I couldn’t help but smile. I was happy to see she was out of the hospital, and she reminded me of happier days. I realized I hadn’t exactly said goodbye, and I remembered the hours we had spent talking, as I bent down to give her a hug. With wide eyes, she looked around, “It’s so big here!” I laughed a little at her amazement, knowing by the time she was my age this old brick building would be far less interesting and a lot more irritating. Here at school she seemed a lot younger than in that hospital bed over the summer. Here she was wearing her tight little Aeropostale shirt, jeans, and boots. Typical naïve sixth grade wear, but I knew better. That child was anything but normal.
I checked a clock on the wall behind me and saw that I only had a few minutes to get to homeroom, so I told her I would see her later. “Hey, if you ever need me I’ll be here. Okay?” Dakota grinned and said yeah, and then right before she scampered on back to her pack of terrified newbies, she held up her hand. I looked at her finger and saw the ring I had given her over the summer. She looked me right in the eye and somberly said “I wear it every day.” Then she turned and disappeared into her group. They all crowded around her in envy that she already had a connection with a senior. I couldn’t help but let out a little bitter laugh. If only they knew! I spent the rest of the day trying to pretend I hadn’t done this a million other times as paper after paper went into my folder that I knew would never be returned signed.
What was the point? I was living on my own in our house for the rest of the year. I was eighteen, and I’d forbidden my aunt from living with me. I didn’t feel right taking her out of her life and my cousins for me. Besides, I’m only here for the rest of this year anyways and then the house will be gone, and I’ll be halfway across the country at college. For years my mom and I had dreamed together about sending me to a good college. Since my dad had left the picture when I was little, she had started a bank account and been saving for a long time. She had account for everything, and I didn’t have to worry about the house or car or anything. It was her dream to send me to a really nice school and watch me graduate. She had always been so proud of me. If anything, I had to do it for her.
So really, these papers were irrelevant. I must have been zoning out in English thinking about everything, because I suddenly felt a tap on the back on my shoulder. I jolted awake, and slowly turned around to see who was attached to the finger jabbing into my back. I must have had a pretty nasty look on my face, because as I made eye contact with the boy behind me, he recoiled a little. Excuse me, let me rephrase, the very cute boy behind me. Let’s also note the eye contact was with the deepest blue eyes and longest lashes I had ever seen on a guy. I blushed, and softened my hard glare, apologetically. He grinned lazily and joked, “its okay, just feared for my life for a second there, no big deal.” I cracked a grin, and asked him “Are you new here? I’ve never seen you around.” He explained to me that he’d just transferred here after moving out of his parents’ house. He didn’t offer more details and I didn’t ask. I knew what it felt like to have everyone know your business. I was enjoying finding someone who didn’t know about my mom, and it made it easier to joke with him. We talked until I heard a stern voice from the front of the room “Charlotte, care to share what’s so funny?” Funny how I am eighteen and still stuck under the rule of a teacher. I turned back around in my seat and shrunk into my seat. I heard a whisper in my ear “Nice to meet you Charlotte, I’m Jackson.” I was glad he couldn’t’ see my face, as I smiled and my cheeks flushed.

The next few weeks passed the same way. Senior year isn’t all it’s really cracked up to be. Some days were better than others, but some days were just awful. I would come home and spend hours in a crying jag. It made me wonder if my dad even cared. What man has the decency to leave his wife and kid, and not even show up to the funeral?
Every now and then I would see Dakota in the hallway, and wonder what her life was like. She would eagerly wave, and hold up her hand. She loved that ring, and it was cute how she wanted me to see it. One day, I saw her in the hallway stopped looking up at someone older, maybe a sophomore? Definitely a high schooler. He reeked of creepiness, but I guess she didn’t know that yet. I wanted to see what they could possibly be talking about, but I had to get to class, so I left. I wish more than anything that I had stepped in right there instead of walking away.
A couple days later, I passed Dakota again with the same creepy guy. I know I really shouldn’t be judging anyone considering the way I walk around school like a zombie, but seriously. He had the all black look going on, and he might even be wearing eyeliner. Which is totally acceptable I’m not a judgmental person, BUT he scares me. I stopped at the windows looking out onto the dried up quad and watched him gently touch her on the check, and I watched her fall in love. Or think she fell in love. I’m sure the way she saw it the breeze was ruffling her hair, the grass was bright green around her, and a cute guy was paying attention to her. The way I saw it, there was no breeze, there was only dried up patches of dirt, and the dude was creepy. But that is the big difference between the two of us- the way I see life was a lot more cynical. I had always counted on my mom to balance that part of me out with her light smiles and jokes. I frowned at the two of them, but I knew there wasn’t really anything I could do.

I continued along my life as normally as I could given the circumstances. I was spending more and more time in English talking to Jackson. He’d even gotten my number, so sometimes we talked on the phone. I was relishing in the fact that he knew nothing about my mom, and I could comfortably joke with him, without him feeling like I was going to fall apart any second. I needed the security of a friend, after shutting myself off from everyone else.
I was still seeing glances of Dakota and Creepy Guy, which is what I have now dubbed him as I don’t know his real name. One day, in early October, I saw her in the hallways, and what I saw shocked me. She was walking down the hall swinging hand in hand with Creepy Guy. She waved to me brightly, but I just stared. Her fishnet stockings I could have taken, but the combat boots and short black shirtdress type thing embedded with crystals was too much for me. And her HAIR! Her long beautiful brown curls were pin straight black strands. Had I missed something in between now and the last time I saw her? There were too many stereotypes going on, I couldn’t handle it.
She let go of Creepy Guy’s hand and he ambled off to talk with his Creepy Friends, as Dakota bounced her way over to me. “What do you think?! I think it looks great!! Creepy Guy even said so!” Okay so she didn’t call him Creepy Guy, but I really don’t remember his name, nor do I care to know it. I just looked at her in shock, I’m sure the bottom of my jaw was resting on the floor. She leaned in to me like she wanted to confide a secret in me. “I think I love him. Isn’t he amazing?!” She sounded so much older than 12 like I knew she was, but so naïve at the same time. WHAT had this guy been telling her? He was two or three years older than her and the only way he would date down for her was for reasons I did NOT want to think about. But I couldn’t just tell Dakota that. With those thoughts, I finally snapped out of it.
Lowering my voice I asked her, “Does your mother know what you’re wearing?” Her business professional mother? Yeah, right.
She looked up at me guiltily.”Noo but she doesn’t like new things it’s not a big deal. Creepy Guy took me shopping on Saturday, he can drive!!” I wondered if their alleged relationship was even legal. I didn’t really know what to do with her. I knew from personal experience that she was stubborn, so telling her what she was doing was weird and wrong would only make her want to do it more. It was like she felt like she had something to prove. What, I’m not sure.
So I looked down at her and got straight to the point. “How are you and your mom?” While she was in the hospital we had talked for some time about the relationship she had with her mom, which pretty much sucked. She hated her mom. I know all kids generally do, but given her stubbornness it was even worse. I tried to help her best I could. Now she just scowled up at me, and her eyes got darker, “That’s not fair.” She said stomping her foot. I wanted to scowl right back at her and lash out with a snide remark about appreciating moms, but I remembered she didn’t even know my mom was in the hospital, much less that she has passed away.
Instead I shrugged at her and with warning in my voice, told her to be careful. She smiled up at me cheerfully and said “Don’t worry I’m a big girl now.” “I don’t doubt it” I said laughing, and she turned and reattached herself to Creepy Guy.

Later that day, I slid into my seat in English and immediately turned around to talk to Jackson. The bell rang, echoing through the classroom, but we continued to talk. Jokingly, we threw insults back and forth at each other. That was our game. It almost always started with a joke and turned into a fun battle of “Oh yeah? Well…” as we hurled insincere comments at each other, laughing the whole time.
We were joking as usual, when he slipped. It wasn’t really his fault, because he didn’t know, but that didn’t matter to me at the time. I don’t even remember what I said to him, but he said “Oh yeah? Your mom!” He eagerly awaited my response- I could tell he enjoyed this game. But I just stared at him. I had a mixture of shock and flaming anger cross my face, and he recoiled at once. Staring at me dumbly he asked “What?? What did I say??” I clenched my fists and spun around in my seat, desperately trying to hold the tears that were ready to take flight. No. I could not lose it in front of the entire class. I had finally lost my label as the pathetic girl who lost her mom over the summer. I felt a jab in my back and I heard strains of trembling apologetic whispers reaching my ears. But the world was spinning around me. I asked for a bathroom pass, and I didn’t come back.
I went to the park up the street, wrapping my jacket tight against the beginnings of fall. I sat down in a swing, and saw 5 missed calls, all from Jackson. I stared at my phone, and it started ringing in my hand. I quickly clicked the end button, ignoring his call, and I finally gave in. I dropped my head into my hands, and the tears started coming. I missed her so much.
I ask myself why every day. It blows my mind that tragic things happen to wonderful people. And this time the tragedy had left me completely stranded on my own. I was so lost in my pain and shock that I forgot where I was. I looked into what was now darkness, and realized I had been here for hours. I felt my swing pull back, and in a panic I grabbed the sides of it. I heard a gentle voice, “its okay”. I caught a glimpse of a pair of deep blue eyes and long lashes, before I was flying, and my hair was wrapping around my face. We stayed like that for awhile, him pushing, me swinging. Finally I got up the courage to talk. I dragged my feet and swung to a stop. Still facing forwards, I put my hands in my lap.
“How did you know where to find me?” I asked biting my lip. I could tell he was smiling behind me without even turning around. “You told me on the phone a couple weeks ago that this was your favorite place. It took me an hour or two to remember, but here I am.”
I finally turned to face Jackson. “But why did you come?” I could even hear the desperation and sadness in my own voice. Geez I was pathetic. But he simply looked at me, and knelt down in front of me.
“Look, I know I said something wrong. But I still don’t know what. And you don’t have to tell me, or forgive me, but I just want you to know I’m sorry. And that whatever I did to hurt you I absolutely regret and did not intend. I’m glad we’ve become friends, and I really don’t want to lose that”
He looked up at me earnestly, and I think that’s when I realized that it was time to drop my walls. With tears welling up yet again, (I’m such a teenage girl) I finally told him the whole story. He didn’t pat me on the back, or give me a pity look. He just listened. And somehow that’s exactly what I needed.
Jackson eventually shared with me why he moved out of his parents’ house, but that’s a story for another day. We didn’t stay at the park for much longer that day, but we shared a bond now that would be difficult to break.

I spent the following weeks right into the heart of winter actually feeling happy, and good about myself. I spent a lot of time with Jackson, and even brought him to my aunt’s house to meet her. She seemed pleased that I was happier, but then again almost anything would be considered an improvement at this point. I realized I wanted to talk to someone about how happy I was. I felt guilty almost, that I was having fun. The only person I could think of was Dakota. Dakota…when was the last time I had seen her? I decided I would go out of my way to find her, hopefully she wouldn’t be attached to Creepy Guy like usual. Or maybe they would have broken up. (fingers crossed).
I searched the graying hallways for her all morning, but I still could not find her. During lunch that day, I looked out to the quad of dead grass, and was incredibly startled to see an ambulance parked in the middle, lights flashing. How had I missed that? I nudged Jackson sitting next to me, and nodded my head towards it, eyebrows furrowing in concern. I didn’t have a good feeling about this.
When the final bell echoed down the hallways, I hurried to my locker, and dug out my cell phone. One time while we were in the hospital, Dakota’s mom had given me her cell phone number. I remembered it being the only time she seemed like she genuinely cared about her daughter. The doctors were running tests on her that day, and her mom had to work, so I was to keep her updated on the progress since I would be there anyways. I quickly scrolled through my numbers, and dialed the one I needed.

Pressing the phone to my ear, I strained to hear over the clattering of metal locker doors, and people shouting to one another. I felt Jackson come up behind me, but I didn’t turn. Finally, on the last ring, a harried woman answered the phone. “hello?”
“Um, hi, this is Charlotte, Dakota’s friend? I was wondering, is she okay?”
I heard a panicked shaky breath over the line, and then “Would you please come to the hospital? She keeps asking for you.”
“Yes mam, I’ll be right there!!” I turned to Jackson with wide eyes. A look of understanding came across his face, and he didn’t protest as I dragged him by the arm to my car, and zipped out of the lot. We didn’t say a word on the drive there. I clenched the steering wheel, trying not to let my emotions impact my driving.
As we arrived at the hospital I didn’t have time to think about the bad memories I associated with this place. I hadn’t stepped through these doors since my world had come crashing down on me in August. I didn’t have time to think. Everything was a blur as I ran through the doors Jackson’s footsteps echoing behind me. Panic set into my chest. I could NOT let anything happen to Dakota. She had become my little sister. All those times I had been suspicious and done nothing…
I shook the useless thoughts from my head as the nurse told me which room to go to. I was thinking the worst. All I remember is getting to the room and seeing Dakota sitting up, breathing normally. I stepped back outside and sank against the wall until I hit the ground. I must have sat like that for hours, Jackson next to me his arm around my shoulder. I couldn’t stand to lose yet another person in my life. There’s only so much anyone can do to protect you.
I eventually got the details. Dakota had been hanging out with Creepy Guy (Told you so!!!) when he started smoking. He didn’t offer her anything but the smoke was enough to give her an asthma attack. Hence, the ambulance.
When I was allowed in to see her, all it took was one look. We didn’t ever talk about it again. She knew, and I knew, and that was all that mattered. I sat down with her, and told her about my mom, and why I was in the hospital in the first place. She had never asked. When I mentioned that, she looked at me funny. “You looked sad, why would you want to talk about it more?” I just gave her a hug. I told her not to ever scare me like that again. I thought about the panic I had felt seeing the ambulance, and I wondered how the rest of my life would be spent. Waiting for the other shoe to drop? I never would have guessed how important to me this twelve year old would become, and how much I would be willing to do for her. She got back to full health, and back to school within the week. I was happy to see Creepy Guy gone from her life, and she was all smiles and back to her normal self. Not that she was any less stubborn but I know that will never change.
As for me? I’m finally back to normal. Yeah, it still hurts sometimes, but I have people on my side. I know that no matter what comes my way, I can handle it. And I’m okay with that.