When Clyde Parker, the wayward son and the rotten-apple of the Parker family-tree, storms his way back into Avery Fields, he sets out a flurry of butterfly effect in Dawn Marshal's life.
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SHE DIDN'T KNOW IF she should weather the storm or wait this one out. Naturally, like all good things must come to an end, thanksgiving break was over and it was time for Dawn Marshal to peel off her cocoon of self-preservation. She couldn't dodge the troubles life threw her way hiding away within the four nondescript walls of her bedroom, forever.
But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't take back the reins of her life and happily totter away into the sunset. There was a hole in her chest, the size of Clyde Parker's heart and nothing else would fit in that hole-no one else would but him. She didn't know how to not feel empty.
His absence hit her like the first droplets of rain, never at once, in morsels and tiny fragments. There were moments when she'd feel like she's alright and then there were moments when she'd lie awake at night pondering over a thousand fabricated versions, alternate realities where Clyde Parker would stay and no hearts will be broken.
Sometimes, a snippet of memory would tug at her chest-three buttons, the color blue, paint splatters, a pack of Marlboro, the starry night and the kiss she wished she didn't remember-and for a long time, she couldn't breathe.
There were instances, when she would stare at her white ceiling with happy songs bursting through her earphones. She wouldn't realize when one song would end and blend into another. Music was just white noise in the background but her thoughts-they took the center-stage like an opera-singer stood under the spotlight and cracked the windows with the shrill of a banshee.
The music was just the orchestra. And her thoughts, they mostly composed of him.
She would lie there wearing his grey hoodie that lost his scent many nights ago and in moments of weakness she would allow herself to cry.
There were too many moments of weakness these days.
When her father walked away, she swore she would never cry over a boy, especially not the kind of boy who had the tendency to drop off the face of earth at his own disposure-especially not over the likes of Clyde Parker.
In the morning of December 2nd, Dawn Marshal decided that she will get over Clyde Parker. And even if she couldn't-she'd have to. Or else Mia will make her. Speak of the devil, "Rise and shine, Dee!" Mia pounced on top of Dawn stripping the sheets off her body.
"Ow!" Dawn groaned into her pillow, rolling onto her sides as she latched onto her throbbing abdomen-the progeny of Mia Thompson's handiwork.
•°•°•
Walking into the hallway of Avery Field's High, this morning, Dawn Marshal felt like she was walking into the belly of the beast. The dread gnawed at her insides, she swallowed her anxiety down with her saliva and drowned out the harsh whispers with Lizzo. She half-wished to flip out a Uno-reverse card at them. But instead, she walked on bull-dozering over every insult directed her way. She had hoped that word hadn't gotten around this quick but perhaps, it was wishful thinking.
