"No Longer Alone": Part 5

I head to French class in a hurry. I just had to stop at the bathroom. As I run, I think about Jaehyun and how I told him not to look at his DNA results. If I was in his position, would I take my advice? No. I would not. So why would he? I should just let it go. But this is a big thing for him. I shouldn’t just let it go. I chose the wrong day to grow a conscience. 

“Sorry, I’m late Monsieur Quinard.”

“Just take a seat, Brynn.”

I head to my seat at the back of the classroom slowly. I savor each stare in my direction. I don’t enjoy French. Or being late, for that matter. But I do enjoy being the center of attention. As long as I don’t have to talk to people. 

“Aujourd'hui nous allons apprendre à…”  My eyes get heavy before Monsieur Quinard can even finish his sentence. 

“Ms. Kang! If my class is boring to you, you might as well just leave!”

“Really?”

And that was how I got my 23rd detention.

“Mother! Father! I’m home!”

“Hello, Brynndal. Your father will be arriving from work shortly. Dinner will be in four hours.”

“Cool. So, I have detention on Friday. I don’t get out until 3:30.”

“That’s nice, dear.”

“I also broke your favorite vase yesterday and lied about it. I said that Father broke it because he’s never here.”

“Just be sure to wear sunblock outside.”

I sigh as I begrudgingly drag my feet up the stairs. She never listens to me. I flop down on my bed and start on my homework. After about 3 minutes, I stop. I decide I can’t concentrate on an empty stomach and go downstairs for a snack.

“Brynndal!” Now she pays attention to what I do. “I said that dinner is in four hours!”

“Yes, Mother. Four hours. That’s a long time. Surely, I can sneak in a banana before then?”

“Nonsense! Go back upstairs to finish your homework. I expect you downstairs and ready to eat at exactly 6:30.”

“Yes, Mother.”

I finish my homework with an hour and a half to spare. I grab my guitar and start to play. Mother says the noise is annoying, but personally, it’s the most wondrous noise in the world. I’ve been playing since I was 7, and taught people on the side. So far I’ve been earning about ten dollars every other week. My guitar is the only thing keeping me sane in this dark, cruel world.

Beep, beep, beep, beep! Beep, beep, beep, beep!

My alarm sounds, compelling me to go downstairs and sit through another disastrous meal. As I inch my way toward the kitchen, I hear my parents arguing. I start to set the table as quietly as possible, though I doubt either of them could hear me over the yelling. I don’t even know what they're bickering about this time. 

“Brynndal! Where are you!?”

“I’m right here, Mother.”

“Set the table.”

“I did.”

“Well, grab the plates.”

I set three full plates on the table mats. I then take a seat on my chair, in the middle of my mother and father, who sit at the ends of the table. 

“Brynndal, how was school?” My father questions after he sits down. Though, he’s not looking at me when he asks.

“It was fine.”

“Anything interesting happen?”

“Not really.” It’s at these moments that I wish I had a sibling to put the unwanted attention on. Although I wish I could tell my parents everything, I know if I did they would get disappointed. It’s not like either of them would even hear me if I said anything. Except for dinner, I don’t see my father. Always at work, always doing work, even now, I look over and see him on his phone, probably trying to close out one more deal.

“Father?”

“Yes, Brynndal?”

“How was work?”

He thoroughly explains his workday minute by minute. Good, I think. Better him talking than me. 

“Thank you for dinner.”

I head upstairs to get ready for bed.  

The next day, I let my alarm clock snooze three times before I woke up. Although an unhealthy habit, not out of the ordinary for me. I slowly roll out of bed and get ready in five minutes flat. A new record. Maybe tomorrow I can add a fourth snooze to the routine.

“I’m heading to school,” I say as I grab an apple from the kitchen. “Your father will be home at 9:00.”

“Again? Does he ever do anything but work?”

“Do not speak that way. I will expect you back at home at exactly 2:40. No more, no less.”

“Why 2:40?”

“I told you,” she says with a sigh. “I have a knitting club.”

Oh sure, when I don’t listen it’s bad. But all I say is, “Okay, Mother.”

I stick the apple in my mouth as I put on my helmet and mount my bike. I’ve been biking to school for as long as I can remember, what with my father always working and my mother being “too good to drive” (her words not mine). It’s a quick five-minute ride to Live Wood High School, so I’ll have to depart at exactly 2:35 if I want to comply with my mother’s rule.  

Once I dismount and lock my bicycle, I have about seven minutes before I have to report to my mandatory homeroom. I decide to take a walk around the campus, but immediately regret it when I’m bombarded with people. People talking, people laughing, people crying. People just being loud in general for no reason. Can’t a girl get a little peace and quiet? I look around and notice only one person in the entire quad not talking. Jaehyun Kang. I almost go over and talk to him when I stop myself. No people. No relationships. No heartbreak. No crying your eyes out when they inevitably leave. I turn away.