I sit in chemistry barely able to pay attention to the lesson because of all the words my teacher is using and the overall mood of the classroom or rather the school.
Vince who stayed home is the topic of discussion around campus, and why wouldn't he be he's the quarterback who seized on the field. A severe moment, but people were coming up to me saying sorry as if he's dead, when in reality he's having the best time of his senior year at home eating granola on the couch. Vicki ditched school and without my parents knowledge is staying home with him so I'm positive Vince isn'tp to be worried about.
When chemistry ends and my teacher asks about Vince I find the quickest route to my locker. I can barely keep my eyes open in chemistry and I'm only keeping up because I'm good at notes, but I do wish I could be dozing off in class instead of having to go to nutrition.
The 15 minute period where I'm sure everyone who is out of the loop will want to know the whole story about Vince. Hopefully these people will go to Darian instead of asking the face the resembles Vince's.
After leaving my locker I head to the library and try not to make eye contact with anyone, but that doesn't work.
"Daya!" Jessica Hamlin's voice shouts from behind me.
She has a clear frown on her face, but doesn't let me fully examine it and wraps her arms around me. Vince is at home scrolling through Netflix for god sakes he's nowhere near the grave. This is coming from his sister who had a nightmare about Vince seizing in his sleep, and was late to school because she wanted to talk with him. "Gosh I feel just terrible. I can only imagine your feelings." She looks into my eyes and keeps her hands on my shoulders. I shiver them off and fake just a little smile.
Jessica on the other hand has her face in a frown and doesn't seem like she's going to move from this spot in the middle of the hallway.
"Jessica he's ok his seizure was only for a minute, which is apparently the least," I assure her.
"Physically he may be ok, but how is he emotionally? Senior year with that injury in front of everyone." She shakes her head cross her arms over her chest.
"He's fine Jessica shouldn't you be with Lucas?" I could've swore she was over Vince since the homecoming, those days when she didn't bug me were the definition of nice.
"Lucas, oh Lucas we had a little thing last week, but we're only friends now." Those had to be the only words from Jesscia that didn't just pass through my brain. A little thing? That's pretty much what Ziyah and I are, not even pretty much it's the exact definition. At least now we don't have to have that stupid, "what are we talk?" But I don't want to be in a little thing that can end at any moment.
"Speak of the devil look who it is your man!" Jessica shouts. I turn around and Ziyah and Lucas approach us. While Jessica and Lucas awkwardly converse Ziyah brings me into a hug. It's a different hug from Jesscia's annoying one, and I love it. My head is against his chest and I hope he can't feel my smile because this is meant to be a comfort hug I can tell by the way he lightly touches my braids. The hug is for some seconds before we separate, and I can't help but smile.
"We'll give you two some alone time," Lucas says. The term alone time just gives me an uneasy feeling, Him and Jessica go down the end of the hallway where I was heading, and Ziyah and I head towards the direction of my locker.
"Is everything ok?" Ziyah asks. His soft tone makes me believe he means all three words.
"Yea everything is fine. What about you?" I give him a smile with some assurance so he knows I'm not giving him the normal response to "are you ok?"
"I'm chill." Ziyah and I share a glance as we walk and a jolt runs through me when his smile hits me. That jolt turns into instant nervousness when a group of three girls I've never seen before come speed walking towards us. Ziyah's smirk goes away and he takes a step back which makes me stare at the floor.
"Oh my god your Vince's little sister is he ok?" The one in front of the two girls asks. It's amazing, all I do is people watch and these girls don't look a tad familiar.
"I heard seizures could lead to death!" They each blurt out questions none of which being whats your name, and each question Ziyah's hands go deeper in his jean pockets.
Ziyah stops one of the girl's from asking another question, and opens his mouth. "Ms. Price can't answer only questions at the moment," he says and grabs my hand. He ushers me away from them in less than a second, and hurries me away from any stares I get from anyone. We get to the front of the school where there is practically no one and sit on a grass patch.
"Thank you."
"No problem." We sit side by side and this time I don't cross my legs and instead bring my knees to my chest before laying my head on Ziyah's shoulder.
"You know why I like you?" I spit out exactly what's on my mind as it's really just us on this small lawn.
"I have some guesses." He picks up two of my braids and plays with the ends and I can't help but smile.
"Well I like you because you see me as Daya and not someone's little sister." Ziyah puts my braids that he was fiddling with back with the others behind my ear.
"Well there are many reasons I like you, but I guess one is you don't see me like everyone else." Awww many reasons.
"How does everyone see you?"Â I'm filled with curiosity and I look at him as if I'm one of the elementary school kids, with my eyes all wide.
"I don't know about everyone, but outside of my friends I'm just one of the potheads or some shit." I get more comfortable and bury my head more into the side of his black hoodie.
"You're right I don't see you like that no matter the amount of weed you smoke." Ziyah lets out a laugh and our small heart to heart officially concludes as the bell rings and we get up from our positions.
"Good luck with everybody," Ziyah says. We hug and scatter opposite ways into the hallways . I guess he'll be giving me my goodbye kiss at the end of school.
The rest of the day goes as expected and I'm asked about Vince several times. No one is as bad as those girls, but I have to say this has to be the most attention I've gotten in my two years of high school. My opinion on it, I hate it and don't feel bad about eating lunch alone anymore. Aside from people's questions the day still has this sad mood that is present in the elementary school.
"Daya I heard what happened and If you need time off take as long as you need," Astrid says when I sit my backpack against the wall. I nod with a smile, but I find it funny Astrid is talking to me like she pays me.
I get to the small table where the kids are working in their notebooks without a sound. It's quite awkward how focused they are I mean they're only in first grade and kindergarten.
"Hey guys," I say.
"Astrid said we can't talk until 20 minutes of workbook time is over," Sascha P whispers. I look back at Astrid and she's checking her teeth in her phone like no one is watching.
"Were you guys talking a lot?" Sofia immediately shoots me a guilty look then buries her head back in her workbook.
"Not all of us," David whispers and gives Sofia the side eye. They go back into silence which makes my job way easier, and I'm quite glad I'm surrounded by people who couldn't care less about my brother's situation.
During the 20 minutes Astrid shows me all of the kid's parents have signed the permission slips for my short film project which I was a bit surprised by. I announced to the kids about being in my film and they all jump up and down even though I will only get 30 minutes every Thursday and Friday to film.
The kids go and play handball outside while Astrid keeps me in charge of watching the bungalow. I study for my French test but stop when I hear footsteps. Walking into the bungalow is Sofia with her arms crossed. A pout sits on her face making her cheeks chubbier and me more worried.
"Sofia why aren't you playing handball?" I ask. She makes her way past the table and straight towards where I'm sitting on the rug. She loves handball and is always making up little dumb rules so no one can beat her.
"Astrid said I had to come inside because I wasn't playing." She sits right next to me.
"Why weren't you playing?"
"Because I'm not in the mood." That makes sense, If she was she would be asking me all sorts of questions.
"What's wrong?" She immediately buries her head into my arm and tears stream down her face. I'm about to hug her, but she gets up and sits right on my lap with her arms around my neck. This is how I hold Sawyer when she's about to go to sleep, it's adorable if you don't have a head of long curls that can easily get in one's mouth. She lets all of her tears out then goes back to sitting next to me. Okay then.
"So what's wrong Sofia, I hate seeing you like this." She sniffs and mumbles a few syllables before fully opening her mouth.
"My ... my mommy signed me up for fashion classes," she mutters. It takes me a second, but I get it there's nothing wrong with fashion classes what's wrong is no matter how energetic Sofia is she can't be at two places at once.
"Don't you want to take fashion classes Sofia it will be fun."
"Yes, but I won't get to spend time with you and my friends." Awww. She doesn't see that she's about to make me cry with her soft words and continues to mutter. "Well not really my friends becuase I get to see them in school, I'm going to miss you Daya." I don't think Dani has even said that.
"What time are you classes?"
"5 to 6, and my mommy will have to pick me up in the auditorium." I don't want to make this about me, but with this new change I'll miss an opportunity at seeing Ziyah.
"Sofia you get out of school at 3:00 that means we have 2 hours together."
"But sometimes you come at like 3:20." That was one time when I went to the park with Ziyah. And 3:20 is the time I'm supposed to be here.
"I'll come at 3:00 from now on."
"Promise?" She sticks out her pinky.
"Promise." We entangle pinky's and smile spreads across her face.
This whole moment surprised me, in the sense that I didn't believe I had any effect on people. It wasn't until today with my conversation with Ziyah and Sofia's tears that I realize my presence is somewhat impactful.