"Hope is not found in a way out, but a way through." -Robert Frost

Memory Lane: Chapter Five

Red, blotchy legs fill up the length of the steamy mirror when I step out of the shower. Even with my towel wrapped tightly around my body, my legs are exposed to the harsh air outside of the protection of the shower and my body begins to shiver. For a moment, I don't move. I just stare at the reflection of my legs. Sometimes I forget that they're mine.

I wish I could forget that forever.

Forcing my eyes away from my reflection, I go into my room and put on my outfit for the first day of senior year. As soon as I pull my jeans up, they begin to slip back down my waist. I frown and pull them back up, but with one step forward they slide down again. I should be used to this by now. Most of my clothes are becoming too big for me. Even my belts are getting too large, unable to keep my pants firmly around my thinning waist. Still, I manage to work with the very last hole on my belt and my wide-legged jeans stay comfortably on.

In the early stages of staying with my grandmother, she was coherent enough to notice how all of my jeans were hurting my legs. Wearing anything relatively tight was out of the picture, but all of my jeans were stuck in the skinny-jean era. So, she bought me a few new wide-legged pairs to help with the pain. She had asked for my size to ensure whatever she bought fit me, and at the time every new pair of jeans did.

Aunt June and Uncle Tim already left for work by the time I go downstairs. The remnants of their breakfast remains on the counter: two nearly empty coffee mugs and plates with a few crumbs spilling off of the sides. I eye the kitchen hungrily as I step towards the door, but the clock on the microwave forces me to continue my trek to the front door rather than stopping for the food Aunt June left for me. If I am going to make it to school on time, I can't stop and eat breakfast.

Last night, after Allen alerted me to the concern of how I would get to school, I ditched my schedule for my phone and mapped out a path for me to walk. In theory, it should only take me twenty minutes to get to school. However, with my legs as a minor setback and the fact that I have never been inside the high school and don't know where any of my classes are, I allotted thirty minutes to make it to my first class.

With one last look at the eggs and toast left on the counter for me, I open up the front door and let the chilly morning air seep into the house. It brings with it the smell of fall and I take a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment while I listen to the wind rustling through the trees. Fall has always been my favorite season. At one point, winter closely rivaled it. Now, I dread when it will start to snow again.

Seconds later, the sound of rustling leaves gets cut off by loud music matched with high-pitched singing. Kendall pulls into the Stallard's driveway and her car windows are rolled all the way up, but the stereo is so loud that all of the sound finds a way out. When she sees me standing on the porch, she shuts off the music and quickly gets out of the car with a huge smile.

"Laura! Are you ready for the first day of school?"

My eyes widen at her cheerleading uniform. The royal blue and maroon are nearly leaping off of the fabric at me and while I would look horrible in those colors, she looks incredible. Kendall is beautiful, though. I have a feeling she could make anything look nice.

She looks down at herself and laughs, nodding at me with a giddy smile.

"I know, I know. It's a lot! But it's tradition for the cheerleaders to wear their uniforms on the first day of school. As Captain, I can definitely put the lid on this tradition, but... I kind of love it!"

Then she proceeds to take a running start, doing a front handspring on the soft grass making up the Stallard's lawn and popping back up with a high kick and a huge, stage smile.

"Go Patriots!"

I blink at her in both shock and amazement. It's too early in the morning for me to even watch someone do cheerleading stunts, much less for her to perform them. Applause begins behind me and I whirl around to see Allen in the doorway, propping the storm door open on his shoulder as he claps and cheers for Kendall. So, I awkwardly begin to join in and clap for her too.

"Are you going to cheer like that when we have our first math tournament next week?"

Kendall laughs, "If you're lucky. Now come on! We've got to get to school early if we want to get a good parking spot."

Her smile turns to me and she walks closer, reaching out to take my hands in a friendly way. I instantly hesitate, stepping back into the comfort of the porch with an uneasy smile. Kendall notices my reaction and pouts.

"What? Was it the front handspring? Too much?"

"No, that was great! Very impressive, actually. I just don't need a ride today, that's all."

"Is it because of what I said at the party? I really am so sorry. I can get a little jealous when I drink and-"

"What? Oh my gosh no, no. I'm very grateful that I got to meet you at the party!"

Kendall continues to list off reasons for me to not want a ride and I try to combat each one and reassure her that it has nothing to do with her, but my tone begins to rise in panic. Allen finally steps fully outside walks down the steps, taking Kendall's hand with a reassuring smile.

"The routine was great, you look beautiful, and Laura loves you. She just doesn't need a ride."

Kendall squeezes Allen's hand and nods, taking a deep breath to calm herself down. Then, she gives me a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, Laura. I tend to like to jump to conclusions..."

I can't help but laugh, waving off her worry. I may have only known her for about 48 hours, but knowing she likes to jump to conclusions was something I deduced within ten minutes of meeting her.

Minutes later, the two of them head to school while I sit on the front porch steps and begin putting on my shoes. My phone is open next to me, revealing my route on Google Maps and I study it while tying my shoes. I'm running slightly behind schedule, but there is a chance I can still make it to my first class on time.

I stand up and reach down for my backpack, but something out of the corner of my eye catches my attention. From the driveway to the left of the house, a small red pick-up truck struggles to come to life. The engine sputters a few times, making me flinch with each pop, and then finally turns into a gentle purr. Through the truck window, I can just make out the dark brown, slightly disheveled hair that I now know belongs to Jesse.

He slowly backs the truck down his short driveway, lurching it down the road with ragged movements that clue me in to the manual transmission.

My chest tightens for a moment at the thought. My dad promised me that he would teach me how to drive a manual transmission. He felt that everyone should know how to drive a stick-shift, but he left me before I ever got to learn.

I snap out of the ridiculous heartache when the small, red truck begins driving past the Stallard's house. A flash of familiarity hits me, but it's gone as soon as it comes. Surprisingly, the truck begins to slow as it passes me and Jesse lowers the passenger side window.

"Bus left, like, 20 minutes ago," he shouts, his tone void of any actual emotion.

I glance down the road to where the bus stop is, furrowing my brow in confusion. Then realization dawns on me. I am standing here, no other cars in the driveway, and Kendall's music loud enough that Jesse must have heard her come and go. So, it's only smart to assume I'm waiting for the bus.

I wait a beat for Jesse to offer me a ride, holding my breath and already trying to form an excuse as to why I don't need one. Preferably an excuse that won't get us into an argument like Saturday night. To my surprise, the truck just lurches forward again as the window gets rolled up and Jesse drives right past without so much as a look back.

I scoff. I may not have accepted a ride, but having been offered one would have been nice. Any decent human that sees someone standing on a front porch with no other way to get to school would most likely offer up a ride. I cross my arms over my chest as I watch his truck disappear down the road and around a corner, being swallowed up by the trees.

"And yet the girls defend you," I mutter, stomping down the porch steps.

Rather than dwell on someone not worth it, I pull my phone from my back pocket and begin following Google Maps as it leads the way towards school. My shoes crunch the leaves covering the sidewalk, kicking them into the air every few steps and letting the slight breeze take them in different directions.

I avoid glancing at the time in the top corner of my phone, choosing instead to look around as I walk through Bennington. I pass many more colonial era houses, each with a unique twist in their architecture to help distinguish them from their neighbors. Some were built with large, beautiful white columns with eccentric designs, holding up massive porches and master suite balconies. Others are simpler: built with brick and humble entryways. No matter the build, every house in Bennington is gorgeous. I see why Aunt June wanted to stay in this town after her and my mom were raised here.

I never stray from the sidewalks, silently thanking the town for having one on every street so that I don't have to wander into the road just to get to school. The path my phone takes me has me wandering familiar sidewalks- pathways my mom used to take me when I was a little girl. Every time a memory fights its way into my mind, I force it back down. I can't let myself remember the past. It hurts too much to know that I'll never get it back.

Unfortunately, I gravely miscalculated how much my legs would slow me down. Rather than walking with the speed of a girl about to be late on her first day of school, my pace is slower than an elderly couple on a Sunday afternoon stroll. Truthfully, it's all I can manage. When I glance at the time on my phone, still a half a mile away from school, my heart drops to see that I only have one minute until the first bell rings.

Ten more minutes later, I finally turn the final corner of my walk and see Mount Anthony High School up ahead. For a town as historic as Bennington, the high school is no exception. Large, grand steps lead up to the massive, limestone building with a blend of 19th century and modern architecture. Each pillar flowing along the front side of the building has old carvings etched in towards the top, but the building is too tall for me to be able to make them out. At the top of the entrance is a large clock, signaling just how late I am.

As quickly as I can, I rush up the steps and towards the front doors, praying my sense of direction works well today and I find my class right away. Somehow, my prayers are answered and I manage to find my first class of the day on the second floor after only a few more minutes of searching.

I peer through the rectangular window on the wooden door, not wanting to interrupt if the teacher is standing in the front lecturing. Fortunately for me, I spot the older lady at her desk across the room rather than in front of the large chalkboard in the front. I scan the rows of individual desks and my body relaxes when I catch sight of familiar long, braided blonde hair sitting next to black hair pulled into a tight ponytail sat the end of two rows. I smile when I see the open seat, presumably for me, right in front of them.

However, I grit my teeth when I find another familiar face on the other end of the room. Almost instantly, gray eyes meet mine through the glass and I huff. I divert my gaze to push open the door and take my seat by Kendall and Quinn quietly.

"You are fifteen minutes late!" Kendall whispers urgently to me when I sit down in the open seat in front of her. "I texted Allen at least twenty times to see if he knew where you were!"

Fortunately for me, the teacher is still typing away on her computer and has not paid any attention to me. I set my backpack down next to me and spin in my seat to face Kendall and Quinn.

"And you have some sweat on your upper lip there-" Quinn says, pointing to her own lip as she eyes mine closely.

I quickly wipe my face as my cheeks flush red, smoothing down my hair from the way the wind batted it around, too.

"I thought class started at 8:45?" I joke in response, sending them both a reassuring smile.

"Did you...walk?" Kendall asks, guilt brimming in her eyes.

"Yes, and I completely miscalculated how long it would take. What did I miss?"

"I am so sorry, I knew I should never have let you turn down my offer to drive you!"

The guilt in her eyes nearly doubles as she stares at me and I quickly shake my head, reassuring her that she did nothing wrong.

"You got lucky today. Mrs. Hyde came in a little late too and her computer was having issues starting. So, she hasn't officially started class yet," Quinn explains.

From the corner of my eye, I notice someone else listening to our conversation and look across the room. Jesse is glancing at us, narrowed eyes zeroing in on me for a moment before he calmly looks away.

"Is she the type of teacher to give me detention for being late?" I ask as I look back at the girls.

"I don't think so. I've heard she's relatively easygoing, but best not to push it."

"She's getting up," Quinn hisses to us, "act natural, as if you were here the whole time!"

Somehow, I don't get called out for being late on the first day. Mrs. Hyde simply begins to call roll before she says her introductions for our class and how the year will go. An hour later, the bell rings and everyone begins shuffling out of the room to go to their next class. With the sea of students maneuvering around the desks and a line starting to form for everyone to leave the room, I somehow end up getting caught in front of Jesse's desk. He's still sitting in his seat, placing his notebook into his backpack as if I'm not standing there.

"For the record, I wasn't trying to catch the bus," I say, crossing my arms over my chest.

Jesse zips up his backpack and begins to stand up, effortlessly tossing it over his shoulder as he looks at me, not offering any reply.

"But if I had been and had missed it, it would have been nice to have been offered a ride."

Jesse steps around his desk and towards the door, making him much closer to me as he responds.

"I've offered you a ride before. Didn't feel like wasting my breath a second time."

Then, he brushes past me and out the now cleared doorway.

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The next update will be Tuesday, December 20th