The Illusion of Us

Chapter 1

Khalil didn't recognize the landscape whisking past his window. His eyes flickered left and right, up and down, searching for any indication that this place was relatively the same town he had grown up in. But the more he tried to discern the landscape, the more he realized he had absolutely no idea where he was.

He didn't recognize the white picket-fences that now lined the entrance of an apartment complex he had never seen before. He didn't recognize the mile-long line of luxury cars wrapped like large shiny ants around the bright red brick walls of a Panera Bread. And he didn't recognize the three-story glass monstrosity that now towered over him through the wind-shield.

It seemed that, in his absence, the city of Dallas had moved on without him, and so had their efforts to gentrify the whole neighborhood.

The intersection light in front of him turned green, and he felt the car jerk underneath him as Brigit pressed on the gas, cruising them down the unfamiliar road and past the intimidating glass building that Khalil couldn't seem to tear his eyes from. Succumbing to the curiosity gnawing inside his stomach, he craned towards the side view mirror in an attempt to catch one last glance at the mesmerizing building. A large sign a few feet from the building, made from the seemingly same brick as the Panera, caught his eyes. Palm Valley Prep: a liberal arts and college preparatory magnet school, it read.

"Private school" Brigit said nonchalantly in explanation. "It used to be a public park."

Khalil remembered.

It had been the same park that had cost him a trip to urgent care because of a stray nail and the enraged attitude of an older kid. His twenty-seven stitches and the scar on his left arm had been the talk of the school for weeks. Guys thought he was brave and girls fussed over him relentlessly, until another boy with a broken leg began to garner the attention that had once been his.

Khalil, involuntarily, found himself rubbing the scarred skin on his forearm.

Something in his eyes must have reflected the old memory, because the next moment, he could feel Brigit's laser-like eyes boring into the side of his face with concern, concern that he had learned was often the direct result of pity, and he hated pity.

He tried to disregard her stares, tried to pretend like he wasn't itching uncomfortably under her suffocating gaze but Brigit was oblivious, and she had always been a relentless character.

"Are you ok?" She asked softly.

Khalil hated it. He hated the way she talked to him, the way she spoke to him like a child who might burst into tears if he was yelled at too harshly. Staring idly out the window beside without actually seeing a thing, he ignored her, content to sit in silence Unfortunately, Brigit wasn't, and she was inclined to talk regardless of his extended silence.

"Khalil?"

No answer.

"Khalil?" She questioned louder this time, letting out an irritated sigh beside him when his silence reigned.

"Khalil." She let out another agitated, pity filled sigh.

"Look-" She continued on. "I get that you're angry, you have every right to be! Your life has been full of obstacles and burdens that no teenager should have to deal with, but shutting out the people who are trying to help you because you're scared-" She paused, frustrated and searching for the right words

"-people who are trying to- "

Khalil couldn't contain a spurt of sarcastic laughter, quickly tugging his bottom lip into his mouth to stifle another laugh that threatened to erupt from his parted lips.