Back To Where I've Never Been

Part 1

The thing about my mother is she knew how to laugh. Amalia Price could fill a room with her laughter, I have never met a soul who didn't crack a little under the pressure of that infectious laugh. Even stone-faced Nurse Andrews smirked when she heard it. Not that I faulted Andrews for her detachment, I imagine it's just one of the skills one has to develop in the oncology ward. If my mom could have laughed away cancer, she would have, I never doubted this for a moment. It's been barely 4 months and I still hear the echoes of that laugh in the empty hallways of our house. Chasing me down the stairs as I try to get ready for school.

We knew my mother wasn't going to make it pretty early on, our doctor, Doctor Andrews (no relation to Nurse Andrews, surprisingly) was a kind old man who didn't believe in giving stage four cancer patients false hope. The onset of the tumor was rapid and inoperable. So, when my mother suggested I get emancipated while I had the chance, I knew it was the right thing to do. She had grown up in the foster care system, from the age of ten onwards, and her stories were enough for me to take the measures I had to in order to stay out of the system. So here I was, seventeen and still in high school, living in the house my mother had managed to pay off before the cancer bled our savings dry. And late for first day of senior year.

"By Munchkin!" I call to the fat wale of a cat glaring at me from his perch beside the door. He does this every morning, has since I was a kid. I don't know if he is sending me off to school or warning me to never come back but I prefer to not ask. I race towards my small Honda Civic and jump in, frantically trying to start the damn thing without it's normal five minutes of sputtering and warm up. Lucky for me the old girl is in a good mood this morning and we are soon on our way to Vadnais Heights High.

I pull into my usual spot next to the red jeep my best friend Thyra is lounging on, soaking up the last few rays of September sun. Soon, it will be too cold to hang out in the parking lot before school.

"Hey girl." I shout, grabbing my backpack before walking to her side of the jeep. Thyra raises one perfectly done eyebrow before stretching out her long brown legs and climbing off. The warning bell rings just as we start walking towards the entrance. Around us, students hurry in, intent on reaching their classroom before the final bell rings in five minutes. Thyra and I keep our pace languid. As seniors, it's almost necessary to appear unaffected by simple things like bells and tardy slips, we are too above that. Or at least I'm trying to pretend to be. On the inside I am freaking out because I hate being late and Thyra knows it, hence the raised eyebrow and smirk as she slowly walks towards the door. She knows our slow pace is killing me, but she also knows I won't say anything about it. It's infuriating how amusing she finds my inability to leave her behind. I also know she won't speed up if I ask her, she's not the easiest person to be best friends with but she's mine so I love her.

"No time for lockers, let's just head to home room. You got Matherson too right?" I ask. Thyra grins and I roll my eyes but she just nods

"Yeah, let's just go, it's the first day so we will have time to go to our lockers after homeroom." We make it to the door just as the final bell rings.

"Violet, Thyra, just in time ladies, welcome to your last year of hell." Mr. Matherson is a thin, sprightly middle-aged man with hair that looks like black feathers sticking haphazardly on his egg-shaped head. I've always thought he looks like he was meant to be some kind of bird, but God messed up and made him a math teacher instead. He certainly acts flighty enough, he's always jumping around during class. But he's also one of the more chill teachers so most of us don't mind his quirks. I grin at him as Thyra and I take a seat in the back, our friend Maddie is in this homeroom too and saved us some prime real estate.