I  lace up my black high top converse. I grab my backpack, and reach for the handle on the door and swing it open. The door screams, I hate that. It’s like I can’t leave my house without the whole world knowing. Dad was supposed to fix that awful noise years ago. But like most things he never got around to it. Dead beat dad.

“Maggie, honey?” 

Damn, just as I expected. I spin around and slap on a fake smile. “Yes, mom?”

“You almost forgot your lunch.”

Pathetic. I snatch the brown paper bag from her hand and walk out rolling my eyes.

Mom calls after me, “I love you sweet pea.”  

Why is she like this? Every day is the same. Wake up, splash some water on my face. Rummage through hand-me-downs and leave by 7:45 for the 8 o’clock bus down the street. Oh and I can’t forget moms famous lunches,. A brown bag filled with neatly cut triangle finger sandwiches and a small wax bag of grapes, and usually a baked good or 2, and always a note saying how much she loves me. HA! I wish that’s what I got. She gives me a paper bag filled with nothing. Every morning maybe it’s a psychological thing. The years of shooting up heroin maybe got to her. Or maybe she’s just embarrassed that we can’t afford the lunch other mothers give to their kids but she doesn’t want anyone to know that we had our lives together at one point and now,  we just don’t. I kick the dirt. My black hair trails behind me dancing in the wind. The rest of the day is a blur, class after class. I usually drift off during math, my eyes don’t shut but I’m just not there. I’m somewhere else. A different universe maybe.

Walking into the cafeteria is the worst part of every day. Each table filled with laughing students. Friends leaning on one another sharing there brown paper bags filled with what I wished I had. I spin around and feel my face getting flushed. Angry almost at my own loneliness.  I push open the double doors, straining my frail arms. I walk away from the nightmare of teenagers. I walk to my red locker, lean against it and sink to the floor.

I dig my nails into my forehead  I’m scratching at my chest and my fingernails cut into my collar bone leaving small red scratches. Anxiousness crawls up my throat, screaming to get out and my heart throbs. The butterflies in my stomach seem to have their wings clipped. My body is beckoning to crash, to disappear into nothingness, and yet for some reason, I continue to fight it’s like I have something to live for that I haven’t found yet. Red nervous marks spread across my chest.  This feeling seems as if it will never go away. Only it does, not entirely but for fragments of time.

I take deep breaths and wipe the tears from eyes. The empty hallway is sort of satisfying, it’s like there’s this sense of calmness before the stamped of smiles. I hate other peoples happiness because I feel that I will never have it. pathetic. My hands wrap around my legs, I lean my forehead against my knee caps. I enjoy the quiet for the while, I only hear the distant cackles from the cafeteria I don’t mind. I breathe in, my breath is shaky and my eyes are swollen. Same time, every day. My tears go unnoticed.

Suddenly the quiet is broken by clicking of heels. Possibly combat boots. I pray that they don’t notice me, whoever they are. I clench my body tighter as if that will make me less visible. The clicking gets louder and then it stops. Well shit. I release my hands from their tight cage around my legs and pick my head up. And am prepared to put on a fake smile for a guidance counselor or someone of that sort. Only that’s not what I find when I open my eyes.

Combat boots just as I expected– white laces though, interesting choice. Slightly baggy black jeans, chunky brown belt, a rusted belt chain lays delicately on his right side. A white long sleeve shirt with a black polo on top. Necklaces, about 4 lay perfectly over his shirts. Freckles, tons, it’s like he has the whole galaxy on his face. Luscious brown eyebrows. strands of hair escape his black bucket hat. Wow, he’s beautiful.

“Hi I’m Riley,” he says.

He has an accent, I’m not sure where it’s from. I’m too stunned to speak. I stutter, at a loss for words I push my hair back behind my ears.

“I just transferred here from Dublin,” he added.

His voice is deep but not too deep. Ireland, that’s where the accent is from, I must look ridiculous, sitting there. Black strands of mascara running down my cheeks. Pathetic. Riley reaches out his hand. And for some reason I grab it. It’s soft and his fingers wrap around the back of my palm. I get a waft of something, he smells like happiness if it had a scent. I smile and blush.

“I’m Maggie, but my friend call me Mags.”  Friends? What friends, I’m making a fool out of my self. My heart pounds, I forgot what it was like to talk to someone.

“Well then, Mags, are you okay?”

He called me Mags, does that indicate somehow he’s my friend. That doesn’t make much sense though, does it? We just met.“I’m fine.” I reply and shrug my shoulders. I’m not really fine but saying I’m fine is much easier than explaining what’s bothering me. I awkwardly shift my feet, we are just standing there looking at each other.

He smiles. “Are you doing anything after school today?” I’ve never heard those words come out of anyone’s mouth.

“I’ll have to check my schedule but I think so.” As if I’ve any plans since the 3rd grade. Butterflies flutter in my stomach and I feel this warm feeling spread across my body. I missed the feeling of excitement.

The bell rings and students spill out into the hall, I turn to say bye to Riley, but he’s already been swallowed by the crowd. The last few periods of class go by pretty quickly, I slouch at my desk the sound of my social studies teacher slowly drifts from my mind and I stare at the clock. The bell rings and I rush outside. I clutch my backpack and marvel in the sunlight, I feel like I can breathe now that I’m outside. I’m not sure if it should wait for Riley or what. The whole school trails out of the building. And there stands Riley. The sun reflects on his face he smiles when he sees me. He walks over to me, the jingling noise of his chains calms me for some reason.     

“ Mags?”

“Riley?” I blush

“Let’s go,”

“Where are we going, though?” I’m nervous but for some reason I trust him

We walk to the football field across from the school, and hours go by as if they are minutes. We sit by the white bleacher avoiding the puddles from  yesterday’s spring shower. I tell him everything, everything I never thought I could say and he put positivity in every situation. He made me laugh for the first time in awhile. I forgot how nice it was to truly laugh, to find something funny and be able to react to it with no one judging me. As the sun melted and red and pink and orange brush stroke flew across the sky, I realized how truly special this day had been. Riley took away my feeling of fear of forever being alone, something was different about him than any of the other kids at the school. He looked like he cared and listened and absorbed the words I spoke. I felt like maybe my storms of anxiety might be gone forever as long as he stuck around.

It started getting late and soon enough a black blanket covered the sky and endless white glowing dots splatter the surface. We leave the field and began walking toward my house.

“I feel like I know everything about you, seriously is there anything else you have to tell me?” I shoved him playfully

“ You know everything,” he replies, his pearly teeth peeking through his grin.

“Do I know everything about you?” His eyes glow in with the reflection of the plump moon

My smile automatically disappears. “No, actually,” I pause, digging my fingers into my palm “My mom’s a heroin addict.” I look at the sidewalk and then back at him. He stopped walking and a look of sadness washes over him.

“Oh shit Maggie, I’m so sorry I had no idea. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

I shrugged. “We only met today, I wasn’t expecting you to know.”

Silence. Riley looked overwhelmed

“It’s really hard actually. I say I’m fine when I’m not fine. It’s so hard, Riley, it’s awful she goes from crack house to crack house. She left me by myself one for 7 days. I was 9. It was horrible. She’s a pathetic excuse for a mother.” I started walking, trying to lighten the mood. I worried I might’ve scared off my only friend. Riley grabbed my hand and spun me around and pulled me into a hug. His arms wrapped around me and held me tightly. I squeezed my eyes shut as tears tried to escape.

“It’s so hard,” I whispered as he rocks me back and forth

—————————————————————————————————————–

The following weeks are the best in my life. I spend my lunch period every day with Riley in the corner of the school library. He brings a hefty lunch and he lets me share with him, he insists on 50/50 always. We sit with our backs leaning against the fantasy fiction shelf. We talk about everything and nothing. We talk about how annoying it is that we have no classes together, and we rant about the other students and the world around us. I finally feel whole. I finally feel like I have someone to rely on. I haven’t had an anxiety attack in 3 weeks, it’s like my lungs have opened up, I can breathe. Today’s lunch is a little different. Reilly explains that he can’t hang out today because of some family gathering or something. I’m disappointed because I’ll miss our walks, but there’s always tomorrow. The bell rings, and we go our separate ways.

Social Studies go by in a flash, and before I know it school is over. As I open the cool metal door I hold it for a group of kids in my geometry class, they smile at me and I smile back. I’m satisfied. I walk home allowing my arms to swing at my sides. The 4 blocks to my house are more lonely than usual. I think about Riley hanging with his family and I wonder if he’s thinking of me. I walk up the steps to my house, glancing at the blue chipping paint window shudders and forgotten window boxes. The door is open as usual, the creaking noise pierces my ears, but honestly what else is new? Mom’s on the couch watching TV in the same place as she was when I left her. Submerged in blankets with heavy black bags under her eyes. She glances at me and doesn’t bother asking how I am. I stomp upstairs and shut my door. I drop my bag on the floor and flop onto my bed allowing my self to sink into my mattress. A few hours later after doing all my tedious homework the landline in my room rings a few times before, and I can scoot my way to my night table.

“Hello ?” I question

“Maggie!!!!” The excitement in Riley’s voice brings me so much joy

“Riley! How are you? Jesus, I miss you. It’s literally been 4 hours since I last saw you, but I’m going through withdrawal.” We talk for at least 2 hours until I hear my mom calling from downstairs

“Hold on a second, Riley ” I put the phone down on my bed

I fling open my door, already annoyed that my moms calling me and trudge down stairs. She’s moved from the couch and into the kitchen. She sits on a stool, her hands leaning against the marble counter.

“What is it?” I gesture my hands and roll my eyes as if to scream “What the f*** do you want this time”

“Honey, are you okay?” my mom’s voice is sincere

  “Yeah of cour-” I start to say until she cuts me off

“Because you’ve been talking for over,” she looks down at her wristwatch. “Two hours.”

“I know, I finished all my homework so what’s the problem?” I’m annoyed

“Okay but who are you even talking to?” she replies

 “Are you f***ing kidding me? ”

 “Maggie Richards ,watch your language,” she raises her voice

“Sorry, it’s just I was talking to Riley, who I’ve told you about several times over the last couple weeks. Jesus, mom, you’re such a mess that you probably didn’t even realize that I finally made a friend. Why can’t you just be happy for me?”  

“Maggie, let’s be reasonable.” She tries to calm me down

“No, don’t tell me to be reasonable. I’m so sick and tired of you doing this, you never listen to me!”

Mom’s eyes well up with tears

“Great, play the victim. Are you seriously about to cry right now?” I scream at her and I can tell it hurts.  My head is spinning. I need Riley more than ever now.

“I’m sorry baby, I have to”  Tears stream down her cheeks

—————————————————————————————————————–

Black. everything goes black and its almost as if my mind has been removed from my body.

My eyes flutter open and the familiar smell of plastic flowers flows to my nostrils. I stare at the white ceiling. I squint at the bright fluorescent lights above me. My mom’s hand clutches mine. I shift and sit up. Mom smiles when she sees I’m awake. Her clean pink cardigan sits over her button-up white Ralph Lauren shirt. A pencil skirt defines her slim hips. Her dirty blond hair lays perfectly at her soldiers. Minimal makeup, no would know how much botox she’s got. My dad’s arm wraps around her shoulder. He’s taller than her only by a few inches, maybe. His hair is gelled back, and a blazer covers whatever shirt he’s wearing. The white walls around me are unsettling.

“Don’t worry sweet pea. We are right here.” She looks at me and sighs my dad squeezes my shoulder.

“Mom, ‘ Riley ?” I glance around the room wondering why I’m here

“Oh, honey, Riley doesn’t exist. I think you’ve known that for a while now.”

I’m stunned.

A doctor peers over me holding a clipboard

“Maggie, welcome back to Bellevue Psychiatric Ward it has been a while since your last stay hasn’t it” He smiles at me as if this a good thing, me being here for the third time.

I wonder if they will still have the blue raspberry jello like they had last year. Pathetic.