Never Never Now - chapter 2

Wailing, full of pain. Horrible. Please stop, I thought desperately, please. It took me a moment to realize that the soul-wrenching noise was coming from myself. 1

“Trisha!” my mother called, sprinting into the living room, panic-stricken, “Trisha!”2

“I’m…uh… fine, mom,” I murmured shakily, “it was… the TV.”3

Relaxing considerably though still looking doubtful, she asked, “Are you sure you’re ok?”4

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I replied, somehow managing to keep my voice from cracking.5

“Alright then. Put the volume down,” my mother sighed, trudging back to bed. 6

Walking into school had never been awkward before The Accident. But without friends to greet, to exchange jokes and random tidbits on my life with, I had nothing. With Wes and Fiona it had always been so easy, relaxed, clear. They accepted me though I wasn’t cool, pretty, or anyone who could even aspire to be considered popular. I thought they understood me, I thought they cared. I really thought they could see through my shy, chubby exterior. But apparently not. Apparently they were less than I thought they were. Seeing the best in people had always been my greatest downfall. 7

Breathing in deeply, I braced myself for the day lying in store for me behind the red door.8

“Just get it over with,” I sighed to myself, pulling open the portal to insanity. 9

Fiddling with my lock, I could almost feel people staring at me from where I was bent next to my locker. 10

“It’s that girl,” I imagined them saying, glaring at me, “the only survivor from the crash. Why her? Why not Ben or Sarah? What’s so great about her?”11

If that was really what they were saying, I thought, opening my locker, they were right. 12

“Trisha?” Mrs. Douglas asked, pulling me from my apathetic daze, “Would you like to answer the question?”13

“Um…” I squirmed in my seat, glancing furtively at the clock, “What was it again?”14

Sighing in annoyance at my obvious lack of attention, my Biology teacher repeated the words I’d been too busy ignoring to hear. “What is the cell wall of a plant cell made of?”15

Pretending to look through my blank notebook which should have contained detailed notes of everything Mrs. Douglas was saying, I shrugged. “I don’t know.”16

Unsurprised by my inspiring answer, she grumbled, “I’ll see you after class, Trisha.”17

I nodded, knowing I had no other choice, before dazing off again. In my deluded daydreams, I imagined what my life would be like if the car had never swerved off the road, had never hit a tree, killing all except for me. Ben, Georgia, Sarah, and Zane might be in this class, suffering along with me. Ben would be yawning widely, unconcerned with what the teacher thought of his rudeness because his grades were perfect. I could picture Georgia, who had once been my lab partner, taking out her iPod and hiding her earphones behind her auburn curls. Sarah, on the other hand, would be diligently taking notes, highlighting them like crazy, while Ben just sat there, taking it all in, a look of naïve awe plastered on his to appease the teacher. 18

“Trisha,” Mrs. Douglas worded carefully once the other students had filed out, “Are you feeling well?”19

“I’m fine,” I replied mechanically, edging towards the doorway. 20

“Well,” she continued sternly, all concern for my wellbeing forgotten, “I’d like you to bring your grades up, ok?”21

I nodded. “Ok.”22

“And,” she growled as I took another step back, “I’d like you to come see me every Tuesday right after school. Other kids come to get help too.”23

“Ok, thanks,” muttered, rushing off to my next class. 24