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Solitude is a beautiful prison, a place of both comfort and despair. It's where you go to escape the world, but also where the world escapes you. Yet in that lonely place, you learn to be your own company, to listen to your own voice, and to find the strength to stand alone. For in solitude, we are forced to confront ourselves and our deepest fears, and in doing so, we discover the power of our own independence.
But sometimes, being alone in your thoughts can lead to overthinking and feeling trapped in your own mind. It can also be difficult to find motivation and stay productive without the support and encouragement of others. so, while solitude can be empowering, it can also have its downsides, especially for a high school student living on their own.
Like me.
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I woke up to find the sun already high up in the sky, something that rarely happens to me. The last time I slept in this late was back in my freshman year of high school. I checked my phone and realized that I only had twenty minutes to get ready and make it to school on time. Just as I started to panic, a knock on my door interrupted my thoughts.
I opened the door slightly, still half-dressed, and found myself face to face with a pair of bright green eyes. Evelyn.
"Hey, can you give me a ride? My car's in the shop and I don't want to be seen taking the bus. It's not a good look for me," she asked, clutching her bag tightly. She was dressed in casual clothes, which I guessed was what she wore yesterday given how nervous and unkempt she looked. She grew impatient at my silence. "So, are you going to be my knight in shining armor or what?"
"Sure, come on in," I replied, stepping aside to let her in. She avoided eye contact and looked uneasy. I recognized that expression all too well - she didn't want anyone to know why she was in this part of town or why she was catching a ride with me to anywhere in Tree Hill. I got her message and reassured her, "Secret's safe, as always." Then I cleared my throat and closed the door. "I'll need ten minutes to get ready. Make yourself comfortable."
I went to my bedroom, shut the door, and rummaged through my closet for something to wear. Eventually, I picked out a plain light grey t-shirt and jeans. I grabbed my backpack and keys, left my room, and found Evelyn standing up from the couch. She trailed behind me as I made my way to the front door, not saying a word. She was quiet, too quiet.
Evelyn usually had a mouth like a firecracker, always blurting things out at an impossible rate. But this time was different. She showed up on this side of town wearing the same clothes as yesterday, which could only mean she had stayed over at someone else's place - someone closer to me than to her own home. As we left the apartment, I locked the door and waited for Evelyn to catch up.
"Why aren't you at home? Does your mom know you're here?" I asked as I hit the elevator button. Evelyn trailed behind me, looking guilty. I knew that look - another fight with her mom. I raised an eyebrow and paused before continuing, "You got in another fight with your mom, didn't you? Look, I know she's doing her best, Eve. It's not her fault thatβ"
"What? That what, Parker?" Evelyn cut me off, sounding defensive.
I had the words on the tip of my tongue, but I knew that saying them would only make things worse. I could sense that she wasn't ready to face the reality of her situation yet. Her past was a painful thorn in her side, a constant reminder of the trials she had endured.
We used to stay up late at night, talking about her past. She'd tell me about being moved around between foster homes since she was only five years old. The group homes had left deep emotional wounds on her, but that all changed when she was taken in by the Bakers at twelve. They treated her as one of their own, and she felt the same. So much so, that she changed her surname to match theirs. Evelyn Davis-Baker.
She'd been living with them for five years. But the recovery of her birth mother had unforeseen consequences that threatened her relationship with the Bakers. Despite the added support of Mrs. Baker, who suggested that Evelyn should consider getting to know her birth mother, the court proceedings would be far more complex and emotionally draining if Mrs. Baker fought to keep Evelyn in her care. She didn't want to hurt Evelyn in the process. I understood that, but Evelyn didn't.
"I don't want to talk about it anymore," she said, and I nodded in agreement. We rode the elevator down to the dimly lit garage on the basement level in silence. I led her to my car, and she followed quietly.
Once we arrived at my car, she asked if I could take her home. "My mom is probably out doing the school run with the twins, so I might actually avoid getting chewed out for once. Plus, I need to change out of these clothes. Trust me, no one wants to see me in last night's outfit."
I rolled my eyes and chuckled before I commented, "There's nothing wrong with wearing the same outfit twice."
"There is when it's two days in a row, smart-ass."
As we drove, I decided not to play any music. "Hey, do you want me to wait for you and drive you to school?" I offered. She still couldn't drive, and her options were limited to waiting for the next bus, calling a cab, or waiting for her mom to come back home. I didn't want her to resort to any of those when I could take her myself. Despite the way things ended between us, she was still someone important to me, and I'd do whatever it takes to make sure she's okay.
"Wow, my very own chauffeur! Do I get a red carpet and a tiara too?" I gave her a look and she quickly dropped her guard, "I don't want to make you late."
"The notion of time is a man-made construct that we use to make sense of the world around us," I joked. But when I saw the serious look on her face, I continued with sincerity, "But seriously, I don't want you to have to take a cab or something when I'm right here."
She gave me a beautiful smile, "Thank you, I owe you one."
We arrived at our destination in less than five minutes, and I turned off the car engine so that Evelyn to go and get ready. It only took her ten minutes, and as she emerged from the building, I revved up the car and waited for her to hop in. I couldn't help but notice her striking transformation.
Her attire screamed "wealth and sophistication," probably inspired by Mrs. Baker. It perfectly suited her role as the junior class president and a strong, independent woman. But no one could fathom the struggles she had faced, and how she held herself together.
Evelyn was a bit of a mystery, and only a few people knew her true self. The person sitting next to me was a far cry from the one I knew. Her posture was impeccable, her makeup flawlessly retouched, and her hair neatly braided, giving her an air of sophistication. I teased her, "Wow, did you have a team of makeup artists and hair stylists waiting for you in there or something? Think they might do mine too?"
She shot me a withering look before adjusting her posture even more. She tried to hide her smile, and then she rolled her eyes, "Sorry, they're booked up for the next decade with people who actually matter. Maybe you can try your luck at the mall kiosk." She replied, clutching her handbag with a tight grip, smirking at me. I shook my head.
"Pretty rude for someone who's being chauffeured." I commented with a raised eyebrow. Her façade softened, and her eyes sent me a silent apology which I accepted with a small smile. If there was one thing about Evelyn, it was that she always put on a front and sometimes forgot to be herself. But I can't say I ever liked the person she pretended to be - the witty and insulting person that most people found hard to approach.
I drove to school and parked in my usual space; turned off the engine and turned to Evelyn, "If you need a ride home, just shoot me a text, okay?"
She nodded before clearing her throat and getting out of the car. "Thanks, but I'm pretty sure I can handle the commute. Unless you've got a private jet or a teleportation device in your pocket, in which case, sign me up," she joked over her shoulder, leaving me grinning before she walked away. That was the new Evelyn, confident, poised, and not needing to say anything to make a statement. She was the statement. I just wished she'd combine the two sides of her that I knew together; only then would she be the perfect person to have ever walked this Earth - at least, to me.
As soon as I stepped out of the car, I saw Jen's old black car parked in the same spot where she left it. Memories of her flooded my mind - her hair, her eyes, her humor - and I couldn't help but stare at it for a moment. But then the sound of the bell ringing snapped me back to reality, reminding me that I was already late.
The school hallways were almost deserted, with only a few students wandering to their classrooms. I rushed to my homeroom; grateful it wasn't too far from the entrance. I opened the door to find Marcus already seated in the back, scrolling on his phone. I took a seat next to him and he greeted me with a sly smile. But before I could even settle in, Mr. Trent's booming voice interrupted us. "Detention, Ridley." I smiled sheepishly at him as he passed me a glare. It was becoming a routine for us - I practically had detention in his class every day.
"You have a car that could make Vin Diesel jealous, and you're still getting in late? How is that possible?" Marcus asked, his head tilted slightly as he smiled.
"My car has a mind of its own, man. I can't control it," I replied with a grin, trying to keep our conversation light. Marcus didn't know about Evelyn and me, he didn't know that we dated and that we broke up or that we were even friends; he most certainly didn't know about her home situation, so with my next words held a small lie, "But seriously, I got stuck behind a school bus."
Marcus snorted. "Uh-huh, blame it on the bus."
I shrugged. The truth was, I hated being late regardless of the fact that I almost always was. I prided myself on being a hardworking student, despite my reputation as the school's star athlete, and I knew that being punctual was part of that. But sometimes, I just couldn't help it, I couldn't say no to Jesse when he missed the bus and needed a ride, and I couldn't say no to taking Evelyn to school either. This wasn't her first time, and I knew it wouldn't be her last.
"Besides, I thought I'd let the townspeople arrive before the king, since it's tradition of course," I said, jokingly referring to the students who had already settled into their seats.
Marcus scoffed in response, "Ah, the noble and chivalrous approach. I'm sure our teacher will be delighted to hear about your commitment to tradition."
I couldn't help but laugh at his sarcasm. "Name a king in history who wasn't the slightest bit rebellious."
Our joking was interrupted by the sound of our homeroom teacher, Mr. Trent, clearing his throat. We quickly settled into our seats and tried to look attentive, but Marcus couldn't resist one more jab, "Looks like the king's ready to learn," he whispered, nudging me with his elbow. Mr. Trent shot him a look, and Marcus responded with a contrite expression, "Sorry, Mr. Trent. We were just discussing the merits of feudalism and the divine right of kings. You know, the usual small talk."
I shook my head, trying to stifle a grin as Mr. Trent began to take attendance. Even though Marcus and I had a playful attitude towards school, we both took our education seriously. We aspired beyond basketball and knew that our success on the court was just part of the equation.
As the minutes ticked by, I found myself growing restless. I checked my phone for the time and realized that we still had ten minutes until the bell rang for first period. Then I switched over to my messages and texted Jasmine quickly.
PARKER: hey, u doin ok?
JASMINE: chillin out maxin relaxin all cool, wbu?
PARKER: i'm ok, jesse in homeroom?
JASMINE: yup, he's here :)
That was all I needed to know.
My little brother Jesse was only two years younger than me, but I always treated him like he was a lot younger. Maybe it was because I had always been more mature than most people my age, or maybe it was because our father was a selfish jerk, and I didn't want Jesse to grow up without someone to guide him. Either way, I felt like I could be a good influence on him, even if he didn't realize it. And I knew that taking his education seriously was one way to help secure his future, especially since he had been slacking off ever since he joined the football team, which really worried me.
Impatiently tapping my foot, I couldn't wait for the day to start.
Out of nowhere, Marcus spoke up. "Hey, so there's this party happening this weekend, and I was thinking we could crash it and make some awkward small talk with strangers. You in?"
I raised an eyebrow, "Wait, what party?"
Marcus beamed, "The party of the year, my friend! Or, you know, a party. With people. And possibly beverages. But don't worry, we'll figure it out as we go. It's gonna be wild. Everyone from school is going. You should come."
I hesitated, "I don't know, man. We have a game on Friday. I don't wanna be too beat."
"I feel you on that, but trust me, socializing can give you a boost. Plus, you can always just sit in a corner and quietly judge everyone. That's what I do. So, what do you say? Pretty please?" Marcus begged, giving me puppy dog eyes. "It'll be fun. And who's gonna watch Jes if we don't go? Or what if you miss meeting a hot girl?"
I couldn't help but chuckle at his antics, "Okay, fine. I'll think about it. But I'm leaving early."
Marcus grinned, knowing he had won, "Deal," I nodded in agreement, grateful for his understanding. As the bell rang, starting the day, Marcus slung his backpack over his shoulder and chuckled, "Come on, let's go be model students," and I followed him out of the classroom.
I realized that I had all my classes alone today, without any of my friends. Last year, my end-of-year exam scores exceeded expectations because I put in countless hours of catching up and doing the necessary work. It took me a long time to understand that getting the highest grades was crucial, especially since I now live alone and need to support myself.
My goal was to get a scholarship and a better job than what I had. But after putting in all that effort, I was transferred into all AP classes and separated from my friends. It's only been a month, but I still haven't found anyone to talk to in class. I couldn't tell if it was a good or bad thing.
As I said goodbye to Marcus and headed to my English class, I walked to the back of the room where I usually sit. Taking a deep breath, I surveyed the classroom. The desks were neatly arranged in rows, and the whiteboard was filled with colorful markers. Mrs. Johnson was flipping through papers at the front of the room.
I was a little nervous about today's class. We were going to discuss one of my favorite books, "To Kill a Mockingbird." I had read it multiple times and had a lot to say about it, but I wasn't sure if I would speak up in class.
As the other students began to file into the room, I noticed that most of them were sitting in groups, chatting, and laughing with their friends. I, on the other hand, was sitting by myself, feeling a little awkward and out of place.
As class began, Mrs. Johnson asked us to share our thoughts on the book's themes. My heart raced as I raised my hand, hoping to make a good impression. To my surprise, she called on me first. I took a deep breath and began speaking, initially hesitating but eventually growing more confident.
"I think that one of the themes of the book is the idea that even though we may feel alone or isolated, we are never truly alone," I said, my voice faltering slightly at first knowing that I was being watched. But then I grew more confident, compensating for my nerves by fidgeting with the pen in my hand, "Scout and Jem feel lonely at times, especially when they are dealing with the discrimination and injustice in their town. But they find comfort in each other, in their father, and in their community. They also learn that standing up for what is right, even if it means standing alone, can bring purpose and fulfillment."
I paused, gathering my thoughts. "This theme of finding strength in solitude and standing alone is not only relevant to the characters in the book but also to us as individuals. We all face moments of loneliness and isolation, but we can find comfort in our own thoughts, passions, and relationships. And like Atticus Finch, we can choose to stand up for what is right, even if it means going against the crowd."
Mrs. Johnson nodded with a small smile. "That's a great insight, Mr. Ridley. Thank you for sharing," she said, before turning to the rest of the class and asking for their thoughts.
As I finished my presentation, a brunette tapped my arm to get my attention and leaned in close, "Hey, great job. You sounded like you actually read the book." I recognized her as one of the girls on the cheer team with Jasmine, and Madison. But because she wasn't always in the same social circles, it was very rare that I'd ever speak to her.
I gave her a small smile and whispered back with a raised eyebrow, "I did read it."
"That's impressive dedication right there. I just skim SparkNotes and hope for the best."
"What does that get you? A high B?"
She smirked and replied, "Actually, an A+. I waffle through the assignments and passionately share my opinions about how Ewell is a Karen, Boo is one creepy-as-hell neighbor, and Scout deserves her own damn book instead of being overshadowed by an unrealistic, idealized white male savior who only cares about himself at the end of the day."
"You got all that from SparkNotes?" I found it hard to believe. Could a summary of chapters and characters really depict such detailed insight? I squinted my eyes in suspicion, "You read the book too, didn't you?"
She smirked at me and then shrugged, "I guess we're both dedicated."
During the rest of class, I felt more engaged and present than I had in a long time. Mrs. Johnson led a lively discussion and I felt like I was a part of it, especially since the girl sitting next to me - Finley - often engaged me in conversation and challenged everything I said. Even though it might sound annoying to be constantly challenged for your opinion, I wasn't bothered at all. It was actually pretty funny and enlightening.
As the bell rang to signal the end of class, I started packing up my stuff and was about to leave when Mrs. Johnson stopped me, "I wanted to ask if you wouldn't mind me publishing your poetry assignment in the schools newspaper? It was good, very good actually. It deserves to be seen by more than just me." At first, I was taken aback, but then I started smiling softly at her, feeling a blush creeping up my cheeks.
That poetry assignment was a breeze - just a way to let out emotions I never knew existed inside me. It amazed me how easy it was to let my feelings flow onto the page and shape them into something that resembled a song. And when it was finally done? That feeling was like a whole weight had been lifted off my shoulders. It was so peaceful that I wanted to do it again and again. I had to admit that I was grateful that Mrs. Johnson liked it, but I also knew that I didn't want to expose my vulnerability to the world while I was still in high school. Not when I had so much to lose.
"Only if you promise to keep it anonymous," I replied with a smile, watching her physically relax as soon as I said it. She nodded back at me with a smile and let me go. "Thanks, Mrs. Johnson. See you tomorrow."
Walking out of the classroom, I felt a newfound confidence and a sense of belonging. Me? And writing? To anyone who thought they knew me, those two things didn't seem to match up. At least not as much as basketball and I did. But regardless, I had to admit that I enjoyed writing. It was an escape I never knew existed until my first English class and knowing that I was good at it gave me hope and opened up more options for my future. Maybe.
I didn't even realize that Finley had caught up to walk beside me until I saw her light blue high-top Converse out of the corner of my eye. "Hey, it was nice debating with you in there," I said.
She shook her head in what seemed like disbelief, "The Parker Ridley, Captain of the Ravens basketball team, complimenting me?" I could tell she was exaggerating, but I also saw the genuineness in the way she carried herself as she walked beside me. When I shook my head with a smile at her antics, she continued softly, "It was nice to know that you're not just some basketball whizz-kid. You actually have some brain cells hiding in there."
"Rude."
"I know." She smiled brightly before her attention was caught elsewhere. She looked back at me and said, "I'll catch you in class tomorrow, Parker."
"Yeah, see you then."
As she walked away, I spotted Jasmine and Marcus hanging out by their lockers. Even though I wanted to join them, I knew I couldn't afford to be late for my next class. But as I walked by, they acknowledged me with a wave and a nod, and I reciprocated with a smile.
I then spotted an open door to the AP Biology classroom and saw a familiar face sitting there, ready for class. It was the new girl, Jen, with her perfectly styled blonde hair and her eyes glued to her phone. I couldn't help but feel drawn to her, even from a distance.
I walked into the classroom, greeted the teacher with a nod and smile, and took a seat next to her. I was relieved to see that we shared the same class, and I wondered if she had been there all along, and I just hadn't noticed her before.
As I settled in beside her, she looked up and smiled at me. "Hey, you're in AP Biology too?" she asked in amazement.
"Isn't this AP Chemistry?" I gestured toward the board and then glanced back at her with a small smile, "Think you got the wrong classroom?"
"Fuck, I don't know," she began to panic and leaned back from her desk, straightening up. She then reached into her open bag on the floor beside her desk and pulled out her timetable, skimming through it. "I only just got this new schedule yesterday."
I couldn't help but smirk as she found the right page in her planner and located today's date, time, and room number. She glanced up at the door, where a sign with the room number was posted, and her shoulders relaxed, "You were fucking with me, weren't you?"
I chuckled. "Every time I come in here, that is always there staring back at me. The teacher never erases it until the exact moment class starts because the projector always gives her trouble. You'd think after five years of teaching at this school, she'd have it figured out by now." As I spoke, I noticed her gaze growing distant, like she was zoning out. But when I finished, she snapped back to reality and grinned.
"So, you're smarter than you look," she teased.
I laughed. "Why is that such a surprise?"
She smiled and said, her tone laced with sarcasm, "Well, according to countless teen dramas, sports and academics are mutually exclusive pursuits, and you can only be good at one of them." She had a point. That stereotype seemed to be ingrained in pop culture. But to be fair, it was partially true. Balancing sports and academics could be tough, and many athletes ended up prioritizing one over the other. I knew plenty of guys and girls on the team who struggled with that same issue.
I leaned back in my seat, amused by her observation. "Ah, yes, because we all know that teen dramas are the ultimate authority on everything. Next thing you know, you'll be telling me that high school is just one big popularity contest." I joked.
Jen let out a laugh, "You're right, I should really take my cues from more serious, mature works of fiction. Like Gossip Girl."
"I'm glad we're on the same page when it comes to reading quality literature. Have you checked out 'Twilight'? It's a real game-changer." I shot her a grin when she burst out laughing.
As the class began, I took a quick glance at her. Jen was obviously a top student, and I was grateful we were in the same class. It was hard not to be drawn in by her. She had blonde hair that fell in waves around her face and a smile that could light up the room. She exuded confidence and intelligence, which made me feel both nervous and intimidated, but in the best possible way.
a/n - not edited.