Double Vision

Chapter Two

                  On Monday morning, I was jolted by a beeping outside my bedroom window.

                  It was strange to hear, mostly due to the fact it’d been noticeably absent for the last four weeks, for obvious reasons. There’d even been time to get used to mornings without it, long periods of quietness that allowed me to sleep well past eleven. With school not a pressing commitment, there’d been no reason for me to wake early; in fact, it was preferable to sleep as many hours as possible, because those were less painful than any waking moments. Today, however, the startling familiarity of the sound was almost overwhelming.

                  Poking my head out of the window, it was everything I expected: the same old silver Micra was straddling the pavement outside my house, its wonky parking obviously my best friend’s handiwork. Archie, despite having been a licensed driver for over a year, had failed to improve his parking skills at all over those twelve months, and the car outside my house still kind of looked like it’d been abandoned in a run from the police. Despite myself, I managed a smile.

                  It was almost like we’d been transported back, zapped into an unspecified day sometime before it had all happened, a time where our normal arrangement still stood. Archie had been giving me lifts to school ever since he got his license, because of course that kind of thing was a requirement of best friendship. A lot of the time, Reese had joined us, hitching a lift under the insistence that we came as a package deal – even though she was often more than happy to ditch both of us in favour of whatever car-owning boy she was leading on at the time. Her relationships – if they could even be called that – had never stood the test of time, but for the few weeks they’d stretched, Archie and I had taken the morning drives alone.

                  Sparing myself one last glance in the mirror, I picked up my bag and headed downstairs. Mum and Brian’s voices could be heard in the kitchen: a hushed conversation over coffee that dwindled into nonexistence at the sound of my footsteps. On any other day, they’d have left for work already, but they’d both unsubtly hung back, acting like they had reasons other than my first day back at school.

                  I knew Mum would be expecting a goodbye, but as my foot landed on the final step, I realised I couldn’t face it. Conversations with her nowadays seemed to have a way of ending up at counsellors and coping mechanisms, one way or another. So, even though there’d be hell to pay later, I avoided the kitchen altogether and made straight for the front door.

                  I kept up a brisk pace all the way down the front path, only hesitating once I’d reached the passenger side of Archie’s car and clambered inside. With the door closed, at least there came the guarantee that Mum wouldn’t be out for a pep talk.

                  “Hey, you.”

                  For a moment, the familiarity of the voice threatened to overwhelm me. I couldn’t help drawing a sharp breath, letting my eyes wander towards the driver’s seat. Archie, of course, looked the same as ever; his appearance was comfortingly unchanged, even though mine must’ve morphed beyond recognition. He still managed to look lanky, even wedged behind the wheel, and his swooping blond style was as expertly crafted as ever. I knew full well he woke up thirty minutes early each morning to perfect his hair, and today didn’t look like an exception.

                  Our eyes met across the car, and a small smile crept onto his face. “How’s it going?”

                  With anybody else, the question would’ve been unbearable, but this was Archie, and therefore a whole different story. “Fabulous, actually,” I said, with more sarcasm than I’d been able to muster for four weeks. It was kind of a surprise to hear the inflection on my words. “So good, in fact, that I think I’m over it completely.”