One Month Later

The bell rings, everyone gets up and turns in the assignment to Ms.Collins.

I write my name at the top of the paper; for some reason, I never write it before I start working; I always write it after I'm finished with the assignment.

"Here you go," I hand her the paper.

She takes it out my hand, "I graded your essay from last week,"

"You graded everyone's early?" She told us that she planned to grade our five-page The Catcher in the Rye essay over winter break.

"Not everyone, just yours," she informs me.

"Oh,"

She pulls out the paper from a plain folder and then hands it to me. My eyes enlarge as I stare at the big red F on the front page. "An F, I don't understand," I have read that book a hundred times. It's not too hard to interpret.

"It wasn't your best work," she states, and I'm kind of offended. I worked for hours on that paper.  "Everything seemed... basic. I need something new from you, Jayda, something different."

"What do you mean?" I ask, genuinely curious.

"Your writing technique and writing style is phenomenal, but it's what I expect from you."

I narrow my eyes, "And that's a bad thing?"

"It's not, but all good writers change it up sometimes. I have been teaching you for a month, and Everything you have given feels the same," she says honestly. "Besides the writing style and technique. You didn't really interpret the story; you told me about the surface things," she stands up from her desk. "I wanted you in my class because, in that brain of yours, you're able to view books differently than other people, you're able to change everyone's perspective and come up with a different approach,"

If I'm being honest with myself, I didn't really dive deep into the book. Though I have read it many times, I wasn't really reading when it was time for me to reread it for the essay. I didn't feel like digging deep.

She sighs, "Look, I know things have been difficult for you since the shooting. It's been challenging for everyone; we're all still a little shaken up."

Shaken up is an understatement; everyone is terrified. All school events have been canceled except for the ones off school property. They canceled the winter ball. Of course, everyone was devastated—everyone except me.

"Look, just take it home, do it over. It's the 7th; I need it before we go on break, which is the 18th."

"Okay," I give her a smile and then walk out the door.

...

When I open the door to the diner, I spot Violet, James, Thomas, and Liam sitting at the back. Their eyes land on me.

Damn, now I have to speak.

I walk to the back of the diner over to where they are.

"Hey, guys,

Everyone greets me.

"Shit, it feels like we haven't seen you in ages," James says. "Well, me and Violet,"

I see Liam and Thomas all the time, well, not all the time only at STEM club, and that's it. I do see them more than Violet and James; we don't sit together at lunch anymore. I'm mostly only with Jessica now. We have really grown closer over the last month, mainly because of the project.

Violet slides over, bumping into James, "Sit, sit." she urges me.

I slide in beside them.

"I'm so mad you're not in Brooke's class anymore.," she pouts.

"You and Ryder," James adds. "That class is boring as shit now."

"How is he?" Liams ask me.

"Uh... he's okay," he's less than okay, but I can't go into the details with them.

"I can't believe you have to tutor him," Thomas says, chiming in,

"I needed the community service hours," I say, knowing it's more to it than that. That's only part of the reason.

James then says, "Is there any news as to who the shooter was?"

I shake my head.

"I can't believe someone actually shot him," Violet says.

"He probably deserved it," Thomas blurts out aggressively.

"Thomas," Liam scorns him.

I tilt my head to the side, "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm saying he's a dick; he got what was coming for him," he says acerbically.

Before I can say something back, Violet hops back in and defuses the argument that was about to form.

"Moving on. How is Caleb?" she asks.

"He's fine,"

"How does he feel about you spending so much time with Ryder?" James asks and then laughs.

I shrug my shoulders. "He doesn't care," I lie. He cares alot; we argue about it all the time. "He accepts our platonic relationship."

"Platonic!" James snorts, almost choking on his drink.

"Yes," I say sternly, not getting how my comment was funny.

"Mhm sure," he says and then takes another seat.

My phone dings, thank god, I don't even look at the message, but I say, "I have to; I will see you guys later,"

They all tell me goodbye; as I walk away from the table, I don't hear what they say, but I do hear the whispers being shared between them.

The old me would've felt some type of way about that, but the new me honestly doesn't give a shit.

...

I pull up to the front of the Adams house, as I have done ever since Ryder got home from the hospital.

I tell myself and everyone that I come here every day after school because I have to tutor him and I need the hours for community service. But that's not the truth, the whole truth.

I come here because I feel guilty.

Ryder and I, along with Katie, know what really happened that night. We know in detail why it happened. We know it happened because of me.

So to ease the guilt to atone for my sins. I come here.

My phone rings, it's my mother's face timing me. I swipe right, and the video connects.

"Hey," she says, ecstatic. She most likely wasn't expecting me to pick up; I always make up an excuse for not answering her calls. I'm still mad at her.

As I should.

She never came home; she never got on a plane to come see her daughter, who just went through a traumatic event—all she did was facetime me. Facetime!

"Where are you?"

"I'm at the Adams house,"

"You've been going over there a lot," she states.

"Im tutoring Ryder,"

"You are?" she questions. I must have forgotten to tell her. "Since when?"

"A few weeks now,"

"You didn't tell me,"

"Maybe if you were here, you would know," I snarl.

"Jayda I-"

I cut her off before she mentions how 'work' is why she isn't here. It's always 'work.'  "I have to go; I'm late," I hang up the phone before she can say more.

...

"How was school?" Evelyn asks as I follow behind her over into the grand kitchen.

"Fine," I simply say.

She nods her head, "That's good,"

"How are you?" I ask.

She takes a sip of the coco in the yellow mug and then says, "Better,"

I look out the large window behind her and stare at the pool house. "How he is today?" Honesty, I didn't want to ask her that I know what her answer is going to be; it's been a month, and yet he seems to be getting worse every day.

"He's a little irritated today,"

"More than usual," I joke.

She laughs, "Yes, more than usual," her smile fades. "His physical therapy today didn't go so well. It uh--" she pauses. "Upset him," she states without going into detail. By the way her face droops, I know it must have been bad.

"I uh, maybe I should come back. I can come back,"

She shakes her head. "No, no, no. He needs to see you," she says passionately.

"Are you sure?" I can't imagine him being in a worse mood than the mood he's always in. I don't even think I want to see him like that.

She replies, "He's better when your around, trust me,"

"Okay,"

"Plus, this gives me an excuse to kick that wretched girl out,"

I laugh at her choice of words, "Who?"

Before taking another sip of her cocoa, she says, "Ashely,"

~~~

(James Smith- Tommy Dorfman *aka Ryan from 13 reasons why!

Thomas- Tyler Posey *aka Scott from teen wolf... another show I miss so much that needs to come back

You guys can cast Liam and Violet as whoever. I've been asked what race Liam is I thought I said it before but just in case I didn't Liam is Black... Violet is White.

also, the teacher Ms.Collins is Suzanne Collins *hunger games author!

Decided to update since YNE hit 900k today❤️ thanks you guys for supporting!)