I sat up straight in bed. My alarm clock flashed 8:05 and I fumbled my way out of my white fluffy comforter and into my adjoined bathroom. I yanked a brush through my dark brunette locks and pinched my freckled cheeks. This would have to do.
The television set droned on quietly in the background. I skirted around the dark wooden banister at the bottom of the staircase in my childhood home, running too late and moving too quickly to notice what the news anchor was saying as BREAKING NEWS flashed in red across the screen.
My name is Leila Martin, and today, my whole life changes.
My dad mumbled an incoherent, "morning, girl" from his spot in the recliner, but he was a little too busy reading the morning paper to notice my late dash down the hall.
My mom was shuffling through some papers in her briefcase, "you're late, again," she muttered.
Her glasses were perched on her nose and she hadn't bothered to look up from the case she must have been studying.
"Up late last night?" my little brother Graham jeered at me as I flew past the breakfast bar in our kitchen, grabbing an apple and making a beeline for the refrigerator to take a few swigs of milk out of the carton before mom could make any more remarks. It was our morning routine. I stuck my tongue out at Graham between a bite of apple and one final chug of milk and made the cut throat motion with my other hand. We had a silent agreement, he and I. He kept quiet about Matt coming through my balcony window every night, and I kept quiet about his internet browsing history, which I had come upon one afternoon when I needed to use his laptop.
Matt was the star quarterback of the football team and had a full ride to Ohio State University next fall. Only sometimes did teachers remember my name, and it was usually because I had made the highest grade in the class. My mission through high school had been simple, get the hell out. My plan was derailed however, when Matt came stumbling through the tutoring center doors our junior year, desperate for a passing grade in math. It had started out slowly, the foundation between he and I wasn't made in a day or even a week. Somehow though, its almost as if we both began to wake up, and we started talking.
"Pryce," my dad hollered, my mother's name, from the family room, "kids get in here!"
I was shuffling through my backpack, trying to sort through a few papers and mentally running through a checklist of what I needed to accomplish and get done that day. Matt still had my calculator in his bag from the night before. These days our tutoring sessions, usually held in my bedroom floor late at night, consisted of me swearing up and down we were actually going to get some work done, and Matt persuading me otherwise. It wasn't a big deal; I would just grab it from him at school later on. It would just give me a chance to talk to him when normally that sort of thing was off limits. Although it wasn't conventional, Matt and I had made our secret relationship work. We had too much going on, we said, we were too different to be together just yet. Matt had enough pressure on him in the shape of his father, not to mention a crazy ex girlfriend that would slap his face and go to jump his bones in the same breath. I was a straight-A student waiting to hear from Duke any minute, early acceptance. We would make it work next fall, if we could handle this, a long distance relationship would be nothing.
"We here at Shefford News 7 are saddened to announce the passing of one of our own. Matthew Cameron Satterfield, quarterback of the Shefford Lions, was found dead at the scene of a car accident in the early hours of the morning, off Fairview Road," the broadcaster spoke solemnly.
"We'll be back with more details shortly."
Everything stopped.
Had I heard right? It had been only a few hours since I had seen him, kissed him. A muffled choking sound registered in my brain, and when I looked around to see my family's eyes on me, I realized it was coming from my own mouth.
"Oh dear, Leila, I had no idea you were so close," mumbled my mom, as her hand swooped out for a sympathetic pat on my shoulder.
Before her hand could fall on me, Graham had wrenched me away by my wrist, hauling me up the stairs two at a time.
"Snap out of it Lei," Graham said as he reached up to put his hands on my shoulders and shake me gently.
My blue eyes found my baby brother's matching set and it was all I could do to hold it together. My gangly Graham, all arms and legs. I had taken one look at him when Mom and Dad brought him home and immediately asked to send him back.
Now is one of the times I'm glad they didn't listen to me.
"He was leaving here, wasn't he Leila? He was going home from seeing you?" asked Graham.
It hit me then like a sack of bricks, he had been with me. It was getting late and he wanted to be back before his father noticed. I hadn't gotten a text from him telling me he was home, like I usually got after one of our late night trysts. How could I not have known something was wrong?
I didn't know whether I was going to punch a wall or be sick.
I chose the latter.
Graham tried to keep his composure, but I knew it was taking all his strength to not yak himself. He slipped out of his shoes quickly and pushed me up against the bed. Matt had done this at least a hundred times, but now, in some sick, twisted, parallel universe, it was Graham doing it and for all the wrong reasons. I was stiff, my joints had locked in place and my hands were balled into clammy fists at my side. Had Graham not tipped me back, I probably would've already fallen over.
My eyes unfocused for a second and then fluttered closed.
When Matt walked into the tutoring center, I had been briefly stunned. The last thing I needed was some stubborn jock with a complex coming in and making my life difficult. I flipped through the schedule, looking for anyone that could take on Matt and his grade, which needed fixing in the worst way. I sighed inwardly, I was the only one available.
I wasn't a shy person, I really wasn't. It's just, when someone new came around, I kind of lost it. It's like my tongue suddenly became too big for my mouth and I lost all social skills, except for my ability to randomly blurt out useless facts that no one really cared about. Somehow though, even in the beginning, things were different with Matt.
"No funny business," I deadpanned. He looked taken aback, but he nodded quickly.
"I can get your grade up, but when it comes down to it, this is all going to be on your shoulders. I'm Leila-," I went to continue, but he interrupted me.
"-Martin, I know. We had chemistry together last semester. You got an A on that mole project that everyone else basically failed. Mrs. Davis worshipped you."
"Are you here for chemistry too?" I retorted.
I swear I saw Matt Satterfield blush.
"LEILA," Graham shout whispered, "Mom is going to be up here in about 2.5 seconds, get your shit together!"
I covered my mouth and ran for the bathroom again. I wrenched the toilet seat up, almost ripping it out of its socket in the process. While I was spilling my guts, again, my mom came in.
"Oh my, do you reckon it's a stomach bug?" she pondered out loud.
I sat back against the cool side of my bathtub and put my head between my legs. This is just a dream. I'm just in a Carrie Underwood music video. Wake up! I pinched myself as hard as I could, and nothing. I felt slender hands under my underarms and suddenly my body was making the motions to walk itself back into my bedroom. My mother- or was it Graham, I couldn't tell at this point, got me into bed.
"I'll call the school and have Graham take a note in for your teachers, dear. I'm needed in the office the rest of the day, but dad will be here if you need anything. I'll send him up with some ginger ale soon. Rest now Leila," my mom cooed, brushing my hair from my damp face.
I was alone. Not just in the physical sense, everyone had left my room, but in every way possible. No one had known about Matt and I, we had made it a vow to keep it our little secret. I hadn't even told my best friend. No one would believe that Leila Martin had captured the eye of the golden boy of Shefford High.
"Loser Leila!," I heard someone call.
I cringed and turned around to face my taunter. As soon as I did a shoulder collided with mine, sending me backwards into the lockers and my books spilling all over the hall. It was Olivia, Matt's ex-girlfriend. She flung herself in and out of his life at her discretion, always just arms length away, incase she needed to needle her way back in. She wasn't the typical "Queen B" that you would see if this had been a movie. Olivia wasn't a cheerleader, she wasn't the prom queen, Olivia was just a bitch.
She sauntered over to Matt, all curly red hair and big green eyes. Her hand went to the hemline of his shirt and she twisted her self around him like a vine of ivy. Except Olivia was more of the poison variety. Matt's eyes locked with mine and I could see the yearning in them, I knew what he wanted to say, but couldn't.
"Hey, baby," she purred, stepping up on her tip toes to press her mouth against his ear.
"Honestly, Olivia... fuck off," Matt said, moving away from her and shaking his head.
He glanced up at me again, mouthed a faint "I'm sorry," and walked away.