In the end, we're all losers | Teen Ink

In the end, we're all losers

June 19, 2021
By Richeyf, South Daytona, Florida
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Richeyf, South Daytona, Florida
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Author's note:

My name is Richiana, I am 19 years old and this will be my first piece of work so please give me any type of feedback. 

Ever heard the theory that the air we breathe is a drug for us to see the world the way the government wants us to see it, and people who take drugs see the world for the way it is. I think that theory is bull****, but whoever came up with it was on to something.

For most of our teenage years, we are taught to succeed in school; that way, we can succeed in life. Bull**** again. I wasted three years of my high school years succeeding. I made cheer captain my junior year, class president of Oak Wood high, early admission into Princeton University, was dating co-captain of the football team. If you ask any average person, I was the It girl.

It's a challenge to become the person you want to be when people already came to terms with who you are. That's the way the world works, isn't it?

We tend to strive for greater, like this sense of purpose on why we want to live. Some live for others, while some live for themselves. Those who live for themselves are rare. I didn't start living for myself until I met him.

He showed me that the world is just a game. The older we get, the more we level up, unlocking different privileges. I never thought of life like that until It all started to make sense. Call me old fashion, but I don't believe it until I see it. Sadly, sometimes it's game over for some of us quicker than we think.

Take my older brother Royce, for example. He made it to level 18 before it was game over for him. Life completely ripped from his hands—drunk driving accident. In 6 months, I'll be 18, passing my older brother at this game called life.

When we live, why not live for ourselves? What people fail to realize is nobody makes It out alive. Now, will you be remembered? Well, that depends on how you live.

Dysfunctional. That's the only word to describe me at the moment. I stood at my locker, apathetically shoving my tattered textbooks inside with no order whatsoever. My book bag rest on the floor at my feet from the fact that I was too lazy to pick it up when it fell off my shoulder this morning. It may be hard to believe, but usually, I have everything organized in a well manner.

"Wow, Riv, never took you as a messy person, but I guess people change over the summer." Emily walked past laughing.

I can't believe we were ever friends, let alone best friends. Emily and I grew up together, but we didn't spend much time together until my junior year when I became the cheer captain. Now that I think about it, she probably just befriended me because of it. We were as if we were made of fire and ice. Her dirty blonde hair was pulled back into a high ponytail that reached her back. Don't get me wrong, she was stunning, but it was the fact that she was well aware of her beauty that made her disposition so sour.

"Never took you as a person to sleep with someone's boyfriend, can't say it surprises me though" I slammed my locker shut.

She tried to hide her shocked expression with a sly smirk, "B*tch" she muttered before walking away.

Emily can dish, but she can't handle it when it's thrown back on her. At the end of junior year, I caught my boyfriend Ashton of three years in bed with that sl**. Then three hours after that, my brother took his last breath. So I focused all that anger on the mourning of my brother but being back now, seeing their faces, that rage is fuming to come back.

I hurried to the bathroom, slinging my book bag over my shoulder. My red curly hair was pulled back into a messy bun, and I wore an oversized hoodie that my brother had given me for Christmas. My eyes were swollen and puffy, and my fair skin had turned pale. I was in a screw-the-world mood when I woke up this morning. I'm pretty sure if there is a God, he has favorites.

The bell rang, signaling that I was now considered late. I groaned in frustration. I'm generally a punctual person. Since I was class president and captain of the squad, I couldn't afford to be anything but on time.

Dealing with high school drama, I thought, was a waste of time. Fake friends, being well-known solely to attract attention. I was looking for more from a life that had only lasted four years. I went to Ap Lit without rushing because I was already ten minutes behind schedule.

"Ms. Mitchell, Glad you could join us, have a seat." Mrs. Carpenter said, pointing to the back of the class.

I scanned the room before sitting. Great! I have Ashton and Emily in this class. It looks like I'm at the bottom of God's list of favorites. Which I already had a feeling.

I rested my head on the desk, attempting to sleep. I didn't get much sleep last night because the nightmares wouldn't end. They began at the start of the summer. Dreams of the car flipping over, my brother unbuckling my seat so I could climb out, the moment he stopped breathing, and the coroner's arriving to zip up his body. I tried sleeping pills, but all I could see when I closed my eyes was that.

It was evident that I don't sleep anymore. I walk the halls as if I'm a zombie. If I wanted to make Ashton miss me, I was doing a horrible job.

"Ms. Mitchell!" Mrs. Carpenter yelled. I sat up looking at all the eyes that are now on me. "Seeing your book isn't open, I'm going to assume you haven't been following along." she pointed out.

"Mrs. Carpenter, I don't think she can help that," Emily commented, causing the class to laugh.

"Enough, Ms. Dotson"

The bell rang, signaling the end of class, and I'd never been happier to hear it. Literature has always piqued my interest since I was a kid. I enjoy getting to know characters and learning more about them, but I had already finished Pride and Prejudice, so the fact that we were beginning it on the first day of school astounds me.

"I get what you're going through, River, I do. But if you don't start paying attention, you'll fall behind." Mrs. Carpenter explained to me as the class was leaving.

Before walking away, I gave a slight nod. She has no understanding of my situation. Nobody does. It was all "I'm sorry for your loss" at the funeral, when in fact, they didn't have to deal with the grief. The nightmares, the strain it put on my family.

"River!" I heard someone shout my name from down the hall. Groaning, I turned around to see my twin brother Ryder jogging to catch up with me.

"How did your first class go?" He asked, becoming in step with me.

"Great, mom!" I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

"Don't be like that. I want to make sure you're good." Ryder grabbed my shoulders, causing me to stop.

I locked my gaze on his brown eyes, which were strikingly close to mine. After the crash, Ryder has been there for me. I hate to admit it, but it's getting to be too much. He's just two minutes older than me, but he treats me like a charity case rather than his sister. His face held so much concern that I decided to be honest with him.

"I'm fine, Ryder," Lie, "Just dealing with Emily's slick comments but nothing I can't handle, okay?" I patted his shoulder before heading to my next class.

My remaining classes were as easy as they come. I've never had a hard time in school, but this year seemed to be the worst. I did everything I could to stay awake, and when lunchtime arrived, I had even more, to worry about. Where was I going to sit?

I took my lunch tray from the lunch lady scanning the cafeteria. Emily sat on Ashton's lap at the football table, making it known they were together. I scrunched my face, taking a seat in the corner at the only empty table there was.

I stared at my fries, suddenly losing my appetite. I'd sit with Ryder if he weren't at the football table because he made wide receiver this year, and if I didn't mind being asked if I was okay every five seconds.

"Move," I heard a deep voice say over the loud cafeteria noise.

I slowly raised my head, unsure who the voice belonged to. Knox Wright was standing directly in front of me. Oak Wood's High detainee. We don't know if he's been to prison, but Emily began the rumor by claiming to have seen him leave the station when she went to see her father, the town's sheriff.

"Are you deaf? Move, Red," He repeated with more venom in his voice.

My brain lagged to process that it was me he was talking to.

Knox was weird-looking but in a good way. He had tattoos all over his arms and neck with jet black loose curls. His jawline was sharp and define. He stood at about 6'2 if I had to guess, with broad shoulders almost as if all he does is work out. I remember Ashton saying that when his uncle was in jail that's all his uncle did was work out.

People feared Knox. I feared him also. He never talks. He walks the halls, knowing people fear him and call him a freak, yet he pays no mind to it. Nobody messes with him after watching him beat up that freshman, sophomore year. He knocked the little boy unconscious and left the scene without a care in the world.

"Listen, Red. I'm not in the mood for any bull**** right now, so move before I make you." He threatened.

I felt the goosebumps appear on my arm, scared that he'll follow through with the threat. The cafeteria became quiet, watching the scene unfold. He wouldn't hit me, would he?

"Find somewhere else to sit." He grabbed me by my hoodie, picking me up.

"Okay, okay, okay, chill, man" Ryder ran up, causing Knox to drop me on my a**.

"Get your b*tch before I mess up her pretty little face," Knox snarled.

I was frozen with fear that I couldn't form any words. I have only seen my life flash before my eyes once, and that was when the car accident happened, but just now, with Konx grabbing me like that, I saw it all flash again. The anger he had in his eyes run more profound than my anger. I hated feeling that type of fear.

I could feel the eyes piercing through the back of my head. I wanted to be angry, angry at Ryder, angry at Knox, but the only emotion I felt was an embarrassment.

I looked over to see if Ashton was at least looking tempted to do something. I wish I didn't, though, because he and Emily sat there laughing at me.

Ryder assisted me in getting up, and even though I know Ryder is just as afraid of Knox as I am, he was the only one who stood up for me. Not that I expected someone else to, but did my three years with Ashton mean nothing to him?

He wasn't the best boyfriend. But he was the most "good-looking" guy in our class. His blonde hair and blue eyes went perfectly with my red hair and brown eyes.

"Can you take me home?" I quietly asked Ryder taking my hair out of the bun to cover my face.

I will not cry in front of these people.

Ryder lead me out the doors, not before I got the chance to look back and made eye contact with those stormy grey eyes.

Knox Wright, I officially hate you.

"River! Wake up. You have to get out!"  I heard a voice call out. I tried to move, tried to open up my eyes, but my whole body was sore.

"River! Please, you have to get out! The car will blow any moment! Wake up!" The voice called out again.

Royce?

"River, wake up!"

My eyes shot open to see my little sister Riley. I was perplexed as I took in my surroundings. I was in my bed at home. It was yet another nightmare.

"You were scaring me," Riley sniffled.

Her blue eyes were teary as I took in her expression. Riley, like Ryder and me, had the red hair gene, but she got her looks from our mother. She was one of the most brilliant six-year-olds I'd ever met. Way more thoughtful than I was when I was six.

"I'm sorry, just a bad dream" I wiped the sweat off my forehead, throwing the covers off me.

I left my curtains open last night as I stared at the moon, thinking about Royce. The moon was now replaced by the scorching sun, causing me to squint.

"Was the hairy monster under your bed also? He always shows up in my dreams" She frowned, reminiscing.

"Something like that" I brushed her beautiful hair from her face.

Riley had long, straight hair that reached her hips, unlike my curly hair. We were all puzzled about how she managed to grow her hair straight while we all have curly hair.

I sat up and checked the time on the clock to see how many hours of sleep I'd gotten. Only four. It's a good thing it was a Saturday because all I had planned was to see this dull-witted therapist. I have nothing against them; it's just the way they look at me as if they're judging me that bothers me. Not everybody can get a physiology degree and live a perfect life at the same time.

"I SMELL BACON!" I heard the voice of my little brother Rowan yelled as he raced down the stairs.

"Bacon!? Let's go before they eat it all!" Riley bounced, chasing after him.

I looked in the mirror, like I do every day, hoping to wake up well-rested and with radiant skin like the old me. My skin remained pale, and the bags had grown worse. In the top right corner of my mirror, I had a picture of myself from the previous year. My hair was curly and flowed down my back; I was wearing a floral dress that I had brought with me when I went shopping with Emily, and a pair of blue and gold pom poms sat by my side. My smile was the most noticeable feature in the picture.

I recall going out to eat with Emily, Ashton, and a few others on that day. That day, Ashton kept complimenting me, so he decided to take a photo of me to use as his lock screen. I don't particularly appreciate getting my picture taken, but I did it for him.

So much for happiness now. I grabbed the picture of the mirror, balling it up to shoot it in the trash. I wasn't that girl anymore, and I never would be.

"She's alive!" My dad sang as I made my way into the kitchen where my whole family sat.

Except for mom, who was busy making coffee, which I could use right now. I sat down next to Rowan, who had a stack of bacon on his plate, after grabbing a cup of coffee. A 14-year-old boy consumes more calories than a 17-year-old girl. I'll never figure out how he's still so frail. Maybe it's all due to his stature. He'd grown to be almost as tall as me.

"Remember that you have your meeting with Dr. Basu at 10," My mom reminded me.

"How can I forget?" I mumbled, placing a pancake on my plate.

"Please tell me that's not all you're going to eat?" Rowan scrunched up his face.

"And if it is?" I challenged him.

He didn't respond, but I didn't miss the disapproving head shake he gave out. I haven't been eating that much like I used to. It was the fact that taking more than two bites of anything made me want to go to the bathroom to puke it up. I wasn't bulimic. My stomach couldn't handle food like it used to. Mom says it has something to do with my depression, yet I don't feel depressed.

We mainly ate in silence beside Rowan and Ryder, who were arguing about who was going to the playoffs, and dad would add his input in here and there. The issue was very unsettling without Royce here. Royce would always talk about football. He was the star quarterback of Wingston High. I don't understand how they can sit there and discuss football without thinking of our family star player.

After breakfast, I went upstairs to shower and change into a pair of sweats and a grey hoodie. My license got restricted after the accident, so dad said he had a couple of errands to run, so he would be the one to drop me off. Usually, Ryder drives me that way so I wouldn't to deal with mom and dad pressing me about opening up to this lady.

The car ride was mainly quiet as dad listened to his 80s rock. I never understood his taste in music. He thinks he's one of those cool dads with superior taste in music. None of us has the heart to tell him the truth.

"I'll be back in an hour," He told me before pulling off.

I walked towards the main building, already considering turning back. If I skipped this meeting, then she'll never see me again; mom would probably curse me out, and dad would have wasted his money. I don't talk to her as it is. She does all the talking. On the other hand, I don't have much to say. I lost my brother; there wasn't anybody can say or do to bring him back.

Dr. Basu was with someone at the time, so the lady at the front desk told me to take a seat. I should've never come in the first place. The waiting room had a wall covered with inspiring quotes that didn't mean anything. 'Live your life for you,' 'Don't make a permanent decision based on fleeting thoughts,' and a slew of other nonsense quotes.

"Stop! Don't break my stuff!" I heard Dr. Basu scream with her thick Indian accent.

"F*CK ALL YOU PEOPLE!" The door opened and slammed.

I got up to approach the situation carefully. Knox's tall frame walked down the hall. Dr. Basu stood at her office door, a worrying expression on her face.

"I'll be sending you the bill for that vase!" She yelled after him.

He turned around, looking as if he would charge at her any moment then our eyes connected. An emotion other than anger replaced his face, but it was gone so fast that I thought I imagined it. He turned on his heels, storming out the building.

"River, please have a seat and excuse the mess" Dr. Basu smiled, which I knew was forced.

Still a little shaken up about what happened, I walked into her office to see a vase shattered on the side of her desk—dirt and glass all over her floor.

Taking a seat in the chair, I scanned the office as I do every visit. The only thing different was I now know that Knox sits in this very same chair.

"I'm sorry you had to see that" She sighed. She closed the door walking over to her spin chair. The least she could do was add a spin chair on her patient's side so we can focus more on spinning ourselves than listening to her talk.

Does Knox feel the same way I do about seeing a therapist? I would say very likely from the way he broke her vase and stormed out of her office.

"The first week of school is finally up. How does that make you feel knowing you got through it?" Her accent was so thick it took me a moment to process her words. Typically if I didn't understand the sh*t she was saying, I just avoided the question.

"Knox is a patient here?" Curiosity got the best of me.

"You know I can't discuss who I see, River" Dr. Basu sat back in her chair, slipping on her glasses.

I remember her saying something along those lines on the first day, but I didn't expect to run into someone I knew. I didn't know Knox, but he did go to the same school as me, and if news got out that I was seeing a therapist, I'd be an even bigger loser. The fact that I care what those people think made me want to bash my head on Dr. Basu's desk.

"I'll say something about me if you tell me something about Knox," I tried barging.

She sat up straighter in her seat as if that was enough for her. I've been meeting with her twice a week for the past two months and have never given her any valuable details.

"Why do you want to know about him?" She asked.

"So I don't feel like I'm the only one at my school that sees you" I avoided eye contact as I said this.

It was a partial lie. I'm pretty sure Knox is one of her patients. Knowing I'm not the only one who sees her makes me feel a little better, but the fact that Knox still sees her makes me wonder a lot.

"Knox has been my patient for about three years now. He's an intense person. He handles his emotions differently than we do."

How different was what I wanted to ask? I bit my tongue, nodding my head. Knox was anything but deep then again; Dr. Basu knows him better than I do.

"I still care what people think of me. I thought I had gotten over it, but this week at school, I did everything I could to go unnoticed. I don't know why I care. It's not like I want them to like me. I'll never be friends with them again" I gave off a dry chuckle.

"Seems to me that you're just lonely. You go from having this great life to shutting everything and everyone out. Have you thought about journaling? If not, I think you should try that," She suggested.

A journal? I wanted to laugh at her. After what I just told her, all she suggests is a journal. I keep my mouth shut about the nightmares. That's all she'll get from me.

"I'll think about it," I lied.

She grinned and nodded before going into detail about other topics, which I ignored. I considered telling someone how I felt about having to be liked to make sense of it all, but I was right back where I started. Why should I care what Emily and Ashton think if I'm so furious with them?

Maybe getting a journal wouldn't be so bad.

I stood outside the building, afraid to go inside. The sign outside, 'Everlasting Ink,' caught my eye. Even though it was nearly midnight, the shop stayed open until 2 a.m. because it was on the outskirts of Oakley.

When insomnia strikes, you do a lot of insane stuff, and I wasn't the type of the getting tattoos. I needed a cup of coffee, but Steamin' Mugs was closed at this hour.

"Are you going in?" A girl stood at the door holding it up.

I considered telling her no, but I nodded, walking in.

"You must don't come to this part of town often," She spoke as she walked behind the desk, placing a pack of cigarettes in the draw.

She had short black hair and more tattoos on her body than I can count, those were the parts that I could see and piercings all over her face.

"Umm, not really, maybe I should just go" My voice was more horse than expected.

"No, wait, what do you have in mind?" She asked.

The answer to that was I have no clue. I've never gotten a tattoo before. Mom says the ink can cause skin cancer and you'll likely to die before anyone else, yet I already feel dead.

"How about a butterfly? All girls have butterfly tattoos," She suggested.

A butterfly. Will it help me fly far away from this town? That's what I needed right now.

"Yooo K, get your a** up here!?" She yelled.

I walked over to the notepad, which had a slew of drawings on it. It was a stunning piece of work. Hands from a goodness worked on the line. Each stroke was executed with such finesse. My father was an artist, so I was familiar with the works.

"What the f*** now, Anastasia?" The voice yelled back.

I went completely still. That voice familiar to me. Footsteps appeared, and there he stood. Knox Wright. I wish nothing more than to become a butterfly and fly away from this situation right now.

"I told you to stop calling me that" The girl Anastasia shoved him with her shoulder.

"And I told you to stop calling me that K s***" He shoved her back. She laughed, rolling her eyes.

It was strange to see Knox in a different setting. He seemed to be more at ease. He wasn't the way he was at school.

"We got a girl here, said she wants something done," Anastasia said.

As soon as we made eye contact, he tensed up. He was dressed in a dark grey shirt that revealed more of his body and tattoos. His hair was a little wild but in a good way. Outside of school, he was even more attractive.

"No, no f***ing way" He glared at me shaking his head. He turned back around, walking towards the back.

"Sorry about him, I'll be right back" She politely smiled before catching up to him.

I inched towards the end of the counter to try to listen to their conversation.

"She's a minor," He spat.

"And you just turned 18 last month but been working here for two years now, so bulls***" Anastasia argued.

I'm not going to lie. It was a lot of fun to see someone put him in his spot. No one dares to do it at school, and I expected everyone to be terrified of him. He was a formidable opponent.

"Not a chance Ana, she's a f***ing stalker, and honestly, I don't feel like dealing with her and hearing a sob story but her dead-a** brother."

Ouch. I regretted showing up here altogether now. I get it. He may think I'm a stalker, which is all a coincidence anyways but to ever confide in him about my brother, I didn't even want to talk to him as it is.

"I'm just going to go," I yelled towards the back, heading to the door.

How is it that Knox manages to hurt my feelings twice already, and I don't even know the guy.

"Thank you"

"No"

They exchanged stares, refusing to back down. I was squirming because of the tension between them. F*** it. I have no idea why I turned up. I walked out and didn't turn around until I was down the street and only the light from the sign could be seen.

It was nearly 1:30 a.m. when I arrived home, and I realized it was still too early for me to sleep, so I began staring at the ceiling until my eyes were too heavy to keep open, and I fell asleep.

The agonizing sound of my alarm woke me up too early for my liking.

"F***!" I groaned, sitting up.

I took a shower and enjoyed the sensation of hot water on my bare skin. I stayed in a little longer than I would have liked, but I made an effort by wearing my black Coldplay hoodie with a pair of black ripped jeans. Since my hair was still wet, I decided to leave it down.

"Good morning Riv" Riley smiled, shoving her face with cereal.

"Morning, Carebear" I ruffled her hair.

The kitchen was in chaos how it was
every morning before school, dad would drive Riley to school because her elementary school was closer to his studio, and Ryder would drive Rowan and me to school. When I first got my license and Rowan was still in middle school, it was just Ryder and I taking turns.

"Riv, are you eating breakfast?" Ryder asked, holding up a piece of toast.

"No," I told him, making my way over to grab me a cup of coffee. My eyes weren't as red as they usually are, but no matter how many nights I sleep, I couldn't get rid of these bags.

"Well then, let's go" He shoved the toast in his mouth, leaving us in the kitchen.

"Can I finish my orange?" Rowan called out to him.

"No," He yelled back.

"A**hole," Rowan muttered, handing his orange over to Riley, who was smiling so hard, showing off her two missing front teeth.

"Language," Mom and Dad said in unison.

I walked over to our red jeep, getting in the front. Ryder and Rowan were arguing over which Lil Wayne album to listen to on the way to school, so I plugged in my headphones and turned on some Nirvana.

Turning into the school, the first thing you see is the Oak High sign. Oak High wasn't far from the center of town. Our football team was the strongest in the county, even though we were the only high school in this small town.

"Remember, I'm not related to you guys," Rowan hoped out the jeep walking off.

Rowan was the spitting image of Royce. He didn't carry the redhead gene, but he has blonde and hair and blue eyes, just like Royce. Eyes also similar to Riley's. He could pass for not being our brother, but that was Royce's twin right there.

"You have the same last name as us, Idiot!" Ryder shouted after him.

We shook our heads simultaneously, heading in the other direction. Ryder was almost presentable today, with his red hair partially hidden by a beanie and a grey long-sleeved shirt and black jeans. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was attempting to impress a girl; the old me would've pounced on him with questions, but I was too exhausted to do so.

Before class began, I went to my locker to get some books and noticed that everyone was looking at me. Did I start my period or something? I froze, too scared to move.

"I bet he's going to beat her a** from the other day," I heard a whisper of girls behind me.

When I turned around, I saw the man himself heading straight for me. I crammed my books into my backpack as quickly as I could, slammed my locker, and turned around.

"Yo red!" I heard him say.

Just keep walking, don't look back.

"Yo red, f***ing chill," He yelled, causing me to pick up my pace.

Soon I was being thrown in the air over his shoulders. It was so quiet in the hallway the only sound was my bookbag crashing into the floor.

"Put me down!" I slammed my balled fist against his back.

He completely ignored me, continuing to make his way through all the shocked faces. He walked out the school's double doors around the corner of the parking lot before he sat me down.

"What the hell, Knox!?" I shoved him back from me furiously.

I'd done nothing wrong for this man to treat me this way, and I'd had enough of being afraid of him. Last night, I also saw his laid-back side, so I know he can't be that bad.

"Will you chill the f*** out!" He screamed, racking his hands through his curls.

I tried to ignore the fact how hot he looked and focused on how angry I was. He made a complete fool out of me not once, but TWICE.

"No, you're such an a**hole! Why do you hate me? The most hated person even hates me!" I lashed out.

"Wow, so red has fire?" He smirked down at me.

"My name is River?" I finally took a deep breath, "okay?"

"Look, I don't care. I just wanted to apologize for what I said last night?" He stuffed his hands in his pockets, and although I knew it was a statement, he sounded so unsure of himself that it came out as a question.

"We'll stick your apology up your a**" With that. I turned on my heels to walk away when I felt a tug on my hoodie.

"You know I tried to be nice, but you're just like every patronizing, snobbish a**hole out here. So now, I take my apology back" He glared at me.

I threw my hands up dramatically, "Wow, take back the apology that I didn't accept, I-DONT-CARE," I said slowly, making sure he understood every word.

Now it was just the two of us in a head-to-head fight. I saw how Anastasia reacted to his staredown and how she backed down. I wasn't going down without a fight, especially from him.

"Stay out my way Red" He took a step closer to me.

"Gladly," I said through my teeth.

He backed up, walking away, leaving me there by myself. Knox Wright will be the death of me.

My altercation with Knox occurred two weeks ago. I was able to stay out of his way while he stayed out of mine. I've been skipping lunch and spending most of my classes in the library, so I don't have to deal with Emily and Ashton. My meetings with Dr. Basu were still the same, except this time she'd ask how the journaling was going, and I didn't dare to tell her I hadn't started yet.

"That dress looks good on you," My cousin Bailey said.

I walked over to the mirror to check out the long black gown she had chosen. She was correct; it looks great on me. It accentuates my curves, which I haven't seen in months, and highlights my red hair. Not to mention, black has become my favorite color. We were preparing to attend Oakley's annual ball, which is usually my second favorite event that this town hosts. My favorite event was always the town fair.

"I don't see the point in all this," I sighed, turning away from the mirror, scared that if I stare at myself for too long, I will back out.

"Oh please, you love the ball" She rolled her eyes at me.

"Used to," I corrected.

The ball was a way for the town to catch up on the latest drama. Everyone is dressed up as if their lives aren't about to fall apart. Families were smiling in each other's faces as if they aren't about to murder each other. The whole town was a popularity contest, not just school.

"Makeup time" She clapped her hands then pointed to the chair.

I sat down as Bailey got to work. Bailey was one of my first cousins on my mom's side, also the closest to my age. She graduated the same year Royce was supposed to and turned 19 over the summer. Bailey was overly enthusiastic about the tiniest details, but this trait made us the best team.

"Girl, you need to get some sleep. These bags were the hardest to cover," She stated.

I took the held hand mirror from her hands, looking at her work. It was as if the old River was looking right back at me. My skin was glowing, and the bags under my eyes were covered in makeup, and my lids had a light shimmer of red, which made my brown eyes appear more golden.

"You like?" She smiled.

"I love it," I told her.

It was the truth. I felt like me again. It was weird how it took a dress and some makeup to feel like myself. I had planned on going to the ball with an old dress I wore to church, and when Bailey found out, she nearly had a fit. My hair was pinned back out of my face with one slight curl hanging above my eye. When Bailey was done perfecting me, she slipped on her dress, and we walked downstairs together.

"Took y'all long enough," Rowan huffed.

They were all waiting to leave and stood by the door. Riley wore a pretty floral dress, and her hair was pulled back in a tight bun that looked like it was pulling her brains out. Ryder wore dark blue slacks and a plaid dark blue shirt, while Rowan wore a grey tux. I have to say. The Mitchell's do a fantastic job cleaning up.

"Your girls look beautiful" My aunt Mary hugged me.

"Thanks, Auntie," I smiled.

We decided to take only two vehicles there; that way, we would be able to leave together. Rowan, Bailey, Aunt Mary, and I rode with mom while Ryder and Riley rode with dad. Mom's family was the only one of our remaining relatives in town. Dad was from Connecticut, and the majority of his family still lived there.

The Oakley ball was placed in the Sync Center, which hosted practically all of their charitable events. It was a large facility, and they decorated it beautifully, even closing certain roads to allow for more parking. The inside was much more spectacular, with a glass chandelier hanging in the center of the room and the world's most giant time clock in the grand stairwell.

"You would think if they can set this all up, they'll pay for a better caterer," Mom whispered, causing aunt Mary to laugh.

I looked at them, trying to find any similarities. Aunt Mary was more laid back than mom was. She was the cool parent while Mom was more tensed. She had a lot more work ethic than aunt Mary did. Then again, mom was older.

I spent an hour greeting everybody and acting as if everything was normal while attempting to ignore their sorrow looks for my loss. Within minutes of our arrival, Ashton and his family arrived, as did Emily and hers, but they were joined at the hips. Emily followed Ashton wherever he went.

To obtain some privacy, I headed over to the restrooms. I'm not sure why I used to enjoy this event so much. Mom was correct: the food here was terrible. I was so tired of the music that I pondered who made this playlist in the first place. I walked out of the bathroom when I was ready and returned to the gathering.

"Hey Riv," Ashton stopped me in the hallway.

"Oh, Hi"

I was more than taken aback. Since I saw Ashton and Emily in bed together, I haven't spoken to him. I ignored his all calls, and even though he attended the burial, we never spoke.

"How have you been?" He asked, concern written all over his face.

"I'm great," I lied.

"That's good, I know we haven't talked in forever, but I'm still here if you need me," He said.

If I need him. I made an effort not to laugh in his face. I'd never need Ashton for anything else. He took three months to summon the confidence to speak to me, and that's all I got in return, with no apologies—the sight of black curly hair walking by caught my attention.

"Umm, great talk Ashton, you have a nice one" I patted his back, walking in the direction of the curly-headed guy.

That hallway led to a closed-off room with the sign do not enter, and the door was slightly ajar, meaning someone must've just walked in. I slowly opened the door to enter into a small janitor's closet.

"What the f***!?" Knox sat on the floor with a joint in his mouth and lighter in hand.

"Really?" I questioned, making sure to close the door fully behind me.

"What do you want?" He grumbled, lighting up.

"Smoking at a charity event? For cancer patients?" I lifted an eyebrow.

"You can't get cancer from weed," He told me, blowing out smoking which made me cough.

"And this event isn't even for cancer patients," I cringe at my lame attempt for a joke he didn't get, plopping on the floor across from him.

"Trust me. I know what it's for" He shoved the lighter in his pocket.

I had a good idea of what it was for as well. It was to gather funds for the town council's new construction project. They wanted to grow Oakley so that more people could do business with them.

"I thought I told you to stay out my way"  He exhaled another puff of smoke, this time in the form of small rings floating in the air.

I ignored his comment, "Can I try?" I nodded towards the joint in his hand.

"You smoke?"

"No, but I also don't sit in janitor's closets with people who hate me also" I looked up at him.

He shrugged and handed the joint to me. I've never smoked in my life. It didn't appeal to me. People seemed to do it to look cool, yet here I was about to put a joint to my lips, although I had no idea what I was doing.

"If you want to feel something, you have to breathe in the smoke into your lungs, almost like swallowing it," He instructed.

I nodded, inhaling deeply and trying to follow what he was saying. A cloud of smoke billowed from my mouth, causing me to cough more than I had planned. Knox smirked as he took the joint from me and demonstrated how it's done.

I wanted to tell him not to worry about it when he handed it back, but the look on his face made me motivated to do it well. I didn't inhale as deeply as before, but I'm confident I did it correctly because I blew a line of smoke like Knox did.

"Why do you smoke that stuff" I coughed, handing it back to him.

"It relaxes me" He shrugged.

"You, sir, are a bad influence," I told him, shaking my head.

"You asked for the blunt" He passed it back to me.

I soon found myself giggling at the most insignificant of things. When Knox would blow the ring smokes or try to lean back, he'd smack his hand on the shelf behind him. It seemed as though all of my anxieties had vanished. It's almost as if I've forgotten we're at the town's ball.

"Do you ever wonder what the purpose of living is?" I laid back, staring at the dirty ceiling that had a broken light.

"You're high," He told me, finishing up the joint and stuffing it in a plastic bag.

"No, I'm for real," I sat up, "like who are we living for?" I don't know why I got on this topic, but it was as if the words were steady flowing out my mouth.

"We live to be liked by people" He looked at me.

"Not a lot of people like you"

"Good, I don't want to be like by you people" He stood up, dusting off his pants.

"I wish I could live like that" I went to stand up but tripped over my long dress.

"Live like what?" He huffed.

I could tell I was starting to irritate him, but none of that bothered me.

"Living for myself" I grabbed onto his arm to keep myself steady. He stared at me like a hard puzzle. 

"Wanna get out of here?" He asked.

I came to a halt as I considered his query. I wasn't too comfortable going somewhere alone with Knox. Not to mention the fact that my parents would most likely kill me.

As if he knew what I was thinking, he asked, "Who are you going to start living for?"

He was correct; to live for me, I needed to be unconcerned about what other people thought. I'm not sure if it was the weed in my system or my curiosity about what Knox was planning, but I nodded and followed him.

We managed to sneak past my family, making a run towards Knox's mustang. The fact that he even drives a car like this makes me rethink a lot. We hit the road driving past the sign that says 'Leaving Oakley'. The ride was a comfortable silence with a song I didn't recognize playing in the back. I could tell Knox was thinking about some deep things from the way his knuckles were gripping the steering wheel. About another ten minutes after leaving Oakley, we pulled up to our destination.

"An art museum?" I questioned, stepping out of the car.

"Just don't touch anything," He scolded as if he already knew how clumsy I was.

Following him inside, I rolled my eyes. It was as if we were appropriately attired. Knox was dressed in black slacks with a white button-down shirt that had the first two buttons undone. Because of his numerous tattoos, it was a seductive image that only he could pull off.

"You can tell a lot about a person from what they draw" He stared at one of the paintings on the wall.

The drawing was a whirl of many colors that resembled a horrible tornado. Even though it was a generic piece, Knox stared at it as if it represented a lot more.

"What can you tell about this person?"

"Well, look at the way they blend the colors in," His fingertips traced across the canvas. "The anger and sadness are all seen through the stroke of the brush."

I attempted to figure out what he was talking about by looking at the artwork, but my mind wouldn't let me. It appeared to be a glob of various hues. My father primarily paints line work, which is why I have a basic understanding of lines.

"And you got that all from looking at this painting?" I said aloud in a duped voice.

"It all in the stroke of the brush" He shrugged as if it was apparent.

We took a walk around the area, looking at more construction. Just by looking at paintings with him, I learned a lot about Knox. He began painting when he was five years old, and he prefers tattoo work instead of painting on a canvas because of the amount of emotion that can be expressed on a canvas. He claims that a tattoo allows him to produce other people's feelings, which he enjoys.

I'm not sure how long we were in there, but it was dark outside when we left, with thirteen missed calls from my mother, three from Ryder, and one from my father.

"Looks like I should take you home" He glanced down at my phone, seeing the missed calls.

"Yeah, I guess" I shoved my phone in my pocket, feeling disappointed that the night has come to an end.

The ride back wasn't as pleasant as the trip there. I'm not sure what was going through Knox's head, but I'm sure a million things were running through mine. Have we become friends as a result of this? I'm not sure I'm ready to be friends with him just yet, but knowing there was a deeper side to Knox piqued my interest. Perhaps Dr. Basu was correct about him.

When the car came to a stop, I jumped out, not bothering to say goodbye. The lights inside were still on, meaning someone was awake, and hopefully, it wasn't my mom.

"River Dallas Mitchell! Stop right there!" The sternness in my mom's voice caused me to stop.

"Mom, I already know what you're going to say--"

"No! Where the hell have you been? We've been worried sick. I called you multiple times and got no answer! I almost sent a searched party out and--"

"Mom, I'm fine, please calm down," I cut her off, trying to keep my voice from cracking, "I just went to an art museum with a friend."

"You have to let me know this stuff. I just kept thinking it was another accident. Oh God, I was so frightened" She babbled on the verge of tears.

"I promise I'm okay" I grabbed her shoulders, hugging her.

I understood why she was so upset now. The last time I left the house without telling anyone where I was going ended Royce's life and nearly mine. She was agitated, and I can understand how that worried her. It wasn't a good idea to go without informing her.

"Go get some sleep. We'll finish this in the morning," She told me.

I nodded, scurrying off to my bedroom, shocked that she let me off so quickly. It wasn't too late, and with school in the morning, I was back at a decent time. That night I went to sleep with no troubles thinking about a five-year-old Knox drawing his stick figures.

As I stumbled down the halls of Oak Wood High, my jacket hood was pulled up high over my head. I made it through the first half of the day without any incidents, and I couldn't wait to get home and sleep. The makeup I wore last night was long gone, and despite going to bed early, I had difficulties sleeping, so the bags were still there, and my bloodshot eyes had worsened.

"You look like you've been hit by a car," Knox bluntly stated as I sat my tray of food down at his table.

"Thanks, Knox, way to make a girl feel good," I sarcastically said.

"What are you doing here anyway?" He raised his eyebrows in a questioning manner.

"Eating," I eyed him as if it wasn't obvious as to what I was doing.

"I thought I said to stay out my way. That means the cafeteria also."

"Well, after last night, I just thought..." I trailed off.

"Thought what? We were friends," he gave a humorless chuckle, "Just because we smoked together then went to look at art does not make us friends."

I stared at Knox, waiting for the punch line of the joke. He couldn't be serious, could he?

"You're such as a**hole," I squeaked in response.

"So you tell me" He snorted a laugh.

"Are you bipolar or something? You're so confusing. One minute it's 'stay out my way' then it's all, 'wanna get out of here' just for you the next day to tell me to stay out your way again," I ranted, not caring that I was starting to draw in the attention of our nosey classmates.

Knox was now staring at me with a baffled look upon his face watching me as I mocked him, clearly becoming frustrated.

"Are you?" I finally asked after I calmed my breathing down.

He kept staring at me with this strange expression on his face. I looked down at my meal plate, evidently wishing I hadn't made such a fuss. It was one thing to yell at each other in the school parking lot, but it was quite another to do so in front of the entire senior class.

"Just shut the f*** up and stop making a fool out yourself," He grunted, going back to eating his food.

I wanted to slap him at the time, but I restrained myself from reaching across the table and slapping his cheek. Knox gave off the idea that he thought I was insane, but he didn't give off the most pleasing impression of himself either.

"I was only trying to help," I muttered more to myself.

"Has it ever occurred to you that I don't want or need help? Especially not from you," Knox suddenly asked, sounding unsteady.

Now it was my turn to stare at him. He had a point, I wasn't in the right headspace to help anybody out, but that didn't stop me from trying.

"But why?"

"None of your f***ing business, that's why."

"That's not telling me why."

"Why don't you ever shut up?"

"Answer my question first."

"For the love of God, Red, why are you trying to figure me out?" He ran his hands through his hair.

Because it makes it, so I don't have to figure out myself.

"You seem like an interesting person," I shrugged, hoping that was good enough for him.

Of course, It wasn't.

"Bull****!" He shook his head.

"It's the truth!"

"I can spot a liar from a mile away, Red, don't lie to me."

The look in his eyes reminded me why everyone fears him. His icy grey eyes became darker, hinting that he was serious.

"You seem like you got life figured out," I finally spat out the truth, "And I'm sitting here trying to manage a way to not care about what people think of me while you do it so effortlessly.

"You? Caring what people think? Shocker," He sarcastically said, hiding the smirk on his face.

"Knox! Please! I'm trying to be serious here!"

"So am I."

Why the hell was he making this so hard? I even told him the truth, and here I am getting laughed at about it.

"Fine Knox, whatever I give up" I threw my hands up in surrender, standing up to throw my tray away.

"F***ing hell," he blurted, causing me to stop, " If we're going to try to be friends, you have to grow tougher skin because if the opportunity to mock you presents itself, I'm going to take it."

"Deal" I sat back down, finishing up my food.

Friends. It was a word that I never thought would come out of Knox's mouth, and he didn't make it easy on me.

"So, does this mean you can call me Riv now?" I perked up.

I get that my hair was red, but he didn't have to remind me by calling me the color. It was starting to become annoying, plus, all my friends and family called me Riv.

"Don't push it" He glared. I smirked, satisfied that we finally got somewhere.

I did not doubt that this friendship would fizzle out before it even began. Knox and I were complete opposites. We fought a lot, but I didn't mind adding some smoke to the already blazing fire. I get how the idea of Knox and I hanging out would perplex some people; it confuses me as well.

But I didn't care. I was already intrigued.

"So you and Knox are friends?" Dr. Basu asked me.

I nodded, moving my weight into a more comfortable posture in her squeaky chair. Keeping a friendship with Knox was more difficult than I had anticipated. He was grumpy, and I felt more like the irritating insect he wanted to trample on than a friend at times.

"I know you need a friend at this time in your life, but I don't think Knox is someone you should befriend."

This caused me to look up at her.

"Didn't you say he was a good guy?" I wondered.

"No. I said he's an intense person," She corrected.

I glared at her trying to remember the exact words that she said to me that day.

"Look, River, Knox is dealing with a lot. I'm not sure he's in the right headspace for a friend" She stood up, walking over to her file cabinet.

"Shouldn't that be his choice?"

I was getting irritated with her at this point. Knox is his own person; yes, I had to work my way into a friendship that still doesn't feel like a friendship, but he agreed to this.

"So I heard today is your brother's birthday" She handed me a journal.

"You're changing the subject," I pointed out.

I didn't want to talk about Royce with her right now, maybe never if she keeps pissing me off.

"River, I'm here for you right now. Not for Knox, not for your mom, but you" She sighed.

"Then don't tell me who I can and can't be friends with," I snapped.

"Okay, fine, let's talk about your brother."

I groaned as I became irritated. She didn't understand what was going on. I came to this pointless meeting today to distract myself from the reality that my entire family has been acting strangely since Royce's birthday.

"You have to talk about him sometimes, River" She rubbed her eyes, clearly becoming frustrated with me.

"I really don't" I got up, leaving her office, making sure to slam the door on my way out.

I knew it was a horrible idea to come here today. I assumed she wouldn't bring up the fact that it was his birthday, but she isn't as predictable as I had thought.

When I walked into the parking lot, Ryder was waiting for me outside. He was dressed in black pants and a good grey top, and his outfit reminded me that tonight the town would be releasing balloons at the top of the hill to celebrate Royce's birthday.

"From the way you stormed out here, I can tell the meeting didn't go so well" Ryder started the car before pulling off.

"I don't want to talk about it," I mumbled as I laid my head against the window.

Before I had left to visit Dr. Basu, there was an argument between my parents about the release of balloons. My father believed it should be a family affair, while my mother believed Royce had a more significant impact on others than we realized and that anybody should be welcomed. I could tell that dedicating a day to Royce was straining my parents' relationship. It was like that for the first few weeks after his death and the day of his funeral.

As soon as we arrived home, I ran upstairs, avoiding conversation. A pair of white jeans with a lovely floral top was placed on my bed, most likely by my mother. It would be the first time in months that I would wear clothes that didn't contain a hoodie.

"You okay, Kiddo?" My dad knocked on the door before entering.

I was trying not to cry as I stared at him. I tried to ignore the agony and push the guilt away, but the fact that my brother wouldn't be able to celebrate his 19th birthday with us hit me like a ton of bricks.

"Come here" He held his arms open for me.

That's all it took. As I finally cried, my father placed his arms around me. I haven't cried like this since the night of the accident. Everything after that was a fog; it was as if a piece of myself died with Royce.

"I know it hurts" He rubbed my back, whispering nothing but soothing words.

"It should've been me," I sobbed.

"Hey, look at me!" He pulled back, making me stare into his brown eyes, "God makes no mistakes, so don't ever say that"

Nonetheless, I had the impression that God had finally made a mistake. Royce was the most joyful individual I'd ever met. He could light up a room just by coming in; when I walk into a place, I try to blend in as much as possible.

"Get dress. We're heading up there soon" He kissed me on the forehead, closing the door on his way out.

I took a long shower, allowing myself to process my feelings. I'm not too fond of when others see me cry, so breaking down at the balloon release was the last thing on my mind. When I was entirely at ease, I put on my white converse and walked up to the mirror.

The jeans clung to me, revealing my hidden figure. I'd lost a lot of weight in the months leading up to the ball, and while the dress I wore covered my tummy, this floral shirt showed it off a little too much. I chose to wear my hair down to keep it out of my face if a tear fell.

My family was downstairs stuffing balloons into the back of my father's automobile. It was like a swarm of Xanax-addled zombies. Today was something that everyone was coping with within their own unique way.

"Honey, you look beautiful," Mom gushed.

I gave a slight smile in reply, and dad gave me a thumbs up. This family has never been quieter than on the way to the hill. Rowan sat there the entire ride playing video games on his phone, Riley fell asleep, and Ryder was doing whatever he was doing on his phone. Being locked in a car with people, I consider family felt awkward. We didn't feel like a family today. We didn't feel like a family at all.

"I have a friend coming. Please don't embarrass me," Ryder told us when we pulled up.

I rolled my eyes as we'll care about this new girl he's bringing on a day like this.

"Don't worry, buddy, I won't embarrass you until you invite this friend over for dinner" Dad laughed.

"Ryder has a girlfriend?" Rowan asked as we all stepped out of the car.

"Who knows what Ryder has," I said, slamming the car door shut.

A couple of folks were going up the hill, getting balloons blown up. The sun was beginning to set, and we only had a few minutes before releasing the balloons into the air. There were several colors available, but I chose purple because it was Royce's favorite color.

"Guys, this is Jenny," Ryder came back, holding hands with some dark head girl.

She was pretty, way out of Ryder's league, but I knew if I said anything, Ryder would blow his s***, so I just kept my mouth shut and waved as Ryder introduced us. Jenny, it appears, attends Oak Wood High School but is in a lower grade than us. That explains why Ryder goes to such lengths to look presentable, only to go to school.

The time had finally come to let the balloons go. I didn't see the purpose in wasting a bunch of balloons by allowing them to soar up and get lost in a neighbor's yard or run out of air and deflate and fall. What was Royce supposed to do, reach down from the heavens and grab them?

"1...2....3" They counted, and on three, we all let our balloons go.

I stood there watching the purple balloon rise and rise until it was no longer visible. I continued walking up the hill, hoping to obtain a better shot, until I noticed a shadow in the trees.

"You came." I walked over to Knox, who was looking up at the sky.

I followed his line of sight, and there it was, my purple balloon still flying.

"I know I'm new to this whole friend thing, but I felt like you might need a friend" Knox shrugged as if it wasn't a big deal.

I looked up at him, trying to contain my smile, "You're full of surprises."

Knox smirked before laying down in the grass, looking up. I laid down beside him, finally feeling comfortable for once. The stars were starting to appear, and eventually, my ballon floated behind a tall building, never being seen again.

At the moment, I felt as if maybe Royce did receive my balloon. Perhaps he took it and held onto it knowing it was from me. I looked over to Knox to see him lying there with his eyes closed, but I knew he wasn't asleep. He was enjoying this moment just as much as I was. That's when I knew.

Dr. Basu was wrong about him. He was worth the friendship.



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