I’m walking through the halls at school but I feel like I’m not even here. My vision is a tunnel, the absence of joy shutting out my periphery. At my locker, I grab the lock and spin, robotically entering the code then opening the door. I jump when Mallory leans against my locker.

  “You okay?” she inquires, surprised at my sudden movement.

  “Yeah, you just surprised me. I didn’t see you coming.” I force a smile.

  “Ugh. I can tell you aren’t alright. This thing with your dad has you down, huh?” She scrunches up her nose a little to show she’s sad for me.

  “It’s hard to explain. I can’t pinpoint why but I feel sad. Almost, like… checked out.” I try to focus my eyes and take a super deep breath in and blow it out attempting to wake myself up.

  “Well this is something you’ve never gone through before. I imagine you’re probably grieving.” Mallory suggests, her inflection rising on the last word.

  “Why can’t it just be easy? I’m glad he’s gone.” I ask, frustrated.

  “Hey. Both can be true. You can be glad he’s gone AND sad.”

  I don’t know what I would do without Mallory here with me through it all.

  She puts her arm around my shoulder and I lean into it.

  “Thank you. I’m sure I’ll be fine once class starts.” I affirm, hoping I’m right, “Now get to class before you make me late.”

  She waves and says, “Okay okay” over her shoulder with a chuckle.

  The weight on my chest lifts a bit when I walk into Theater class and see some friends. I love our theater teacher, Mrs. Hilyard. She’s so much fun and it’s easy to be happy when I’m around her. The bell rings shortly after I sit in my chair.

  “Good morning gals and gents! Today we will begin with some warm up exercises in the auditorium. Everyone spread out and pick a chair.”

  She claps twice in a WAKE UP/warning kind of way. As I follow some people to the auditorium, my friend Jack catches up and walks next to me.

  “Hey hey Bridgeeeeet!” He whisper-yells with a hand cupped next to his mouth to amplify.

  I can’t help but smile at how over the top he is.

  “What is uuuup Jack!?” I bob my head from shoulder to shoulder with each syllable. Forcing myself to have energy is easy when someone else contributes theirs.

  “Oh just can’t wait to do these warm ups. Wanna stand near each other and see who can make the most ridiculous faces?” He looks wide-eyed, excited.

  “I think that can be arranged.” I let my face sink into a squinty silly smirk.

  “Perfect. Let’s do the back of the auditorium so we can project.” He belts the last word to drive his point home.

  We arrive at the last row in the auditorium and spread about 5 chairs apart.

  “Okay, Thespians, we will begin with stretching your mouths as wide as they can go. AAAAHH.” She demonstrates and we all follow suit. My nostrils flare with amusement as Jack and I stare at one another looking foolish. It’s amazing how wide Jack can stretch his mouth. It’s like his skin is made of spandex.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  “Alright now purse your mouths as tiny as they can be.” She makes the funniest face as though she ate something sour.

  I make a pucker towards Jack trying to look like an old woman with no lips. He returns my look with an impressive sallow balloon-knot looking kiss.

  We both break our faces to laugh before trying once more as Mrs. Hilyard walks around assessing everyone’s faces. For the moment, the ache in my head is gone and my heart feels lighter. We do some vocal exercises and then move on to small groups. I’m grateful to have this class as the first in my day to bring me some giggles.

  Before I even reach the door for Yearbook next hour, Tori is bellowing my name down the hall behind me. A smile slowly fills my face. It’s hard to wake up in the morning most days but my friends remind me why I keep pushing forward.

  Later after school, my sisters and I are headed to meet my dad for weekly dinner at Carpatzi’s, a sandwich place. He’s waiting in his car when we all pull in. When he gets out of the car, light fills his eyes as he smiles at us. It’s easy to see that he’s lonely but hard to know if it’s our absence in particular that makes him feel that way. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that he holds a flame for my mom still. Whenever we talk about mom (or sometimes he asks about her), a vacant lost look covers his face.

  Anyways, it feels awkward, these times with just dad and us. I can count on one hand the number of times I had “special time” with just him in my life. I vividly remember once when I was 6 or 7, he took me to Burger King for french toast sticks I drenched in the tiny cups of syrup then to pick out a barbie at Wal Mart. I remember feeling so excited and I picked out a Barbie that had hair extensions. They velcroed onto the back of her head like a surgical cloth or something, only made of low quality hair.

  We’re at the counter and it’s time to order.

  “Um I guess I’ll have a pepperoni and salami sandwich.”

  “The Italian hoagie?” The acne-riddled teenage guy behind the counter responds with annoyance lacing his tone.

  “Sure. Thank you.” I smile hoping to soften his attitude.

  Everyone else orders and we pick a table further from the window to avoid drafts and well, other people. I take my empty paper cup to the fountain and look at Casey.

  “You thinkin what I’m thinkin?” I say raising my brows.

  “Suicide?” She counters.

  “Yup!”

  I make a mix of Dr. Pepper, Sprite and Coke then I walk back to the table. “Ugh. That’s nasty.” Dad comments as he only takes Dr. Pepper.

  The chairs make deep echoing screeches as we pull them out to sit. I never understood why a restaurant or any establishment would choose metal chairs on a hard floor that create a noise so obnoxious. It makes me shudder.

  “So how was school today, girls?” Dad attempts to spark substantial conversation.

  “Oh you know, just did some stimulating facial exercises in Theatre.”

  I make my mouth huge and say “aaah” then scrunch it up. Casey and Alex laugh and Alex struggles to not spit out her drink. They’re used to my honest delivery.

  “Okay! What about you guys?” Dad continues to my sisters.

  “We had rehearsal for our choir concert tomorrow and I have a solo!” Alex beams.

  “That’s awesome, Alex. I can’t wait to see it.” Dad expresses pride but it’s dipped in sorrow. Almost like it’s hard to allow himself any joy.

  “Casey’s pottery is going to be put on display at school.” I blurt.

  “Um, rude. I could’ve told him.”

  “Yet, you hadn’t. So you’re welcome.” I tilt my head and smirk.

  “Casey, that's incredible. I had no idea you were so skilled at it.” Dad says.

  “Neither did I.” She jokes.

  We talk like this for a good hour before the conversation wanes and the sun has set. The routine has become we walk to the cars together, hug then go our separate ways. The moment the last car door closes, I sigh audibly.

  “Is it weird for anyone else how nice he’s being?” I question from the back seat.

  “It was only like an hour but yeah it’s hard to get used to.” Casey agrees.

  “I mean I guess at least it’s better than it was. For now. I’ll take it.” Alex responds and we all silently take in the truth in her words. And then she pulls the car out and we head home.