It Happened Last Year

I couldn’t sleep, not with that video on my mind. It felt like a dream, something far beyond reality. Seeing her again-that version of myself-put a good dent in me. It made me feel like a time traveler, yet no one would want to go back to their worst moment, something like that belongs in the past and for some reason mine won’t stay. It’s like a mosquito trapped inside of my clothes, constantly biting and never escaping.

I have many questions for Sam, but I don’t want to face him. Up until now I believed Harrison and I were the only witnesses, and here Sam is, an innocent boy who filmed at the wrong time. He shouldn’t be dragged in. He already did his part by giving me the video.

This is what I wanted, right? Proof? Now that I have it I am not sure what to do. It isn’t that hard to turn it into the police, to prove everyone wrong, but for some reason whenever I think about it I struggle. What if they still don’t believe me? What if they refuse to watch it? What if they ignore me and turn me away? I’ve never thought about this before because, well, before yesterday the idea of proof was just in my imagination.

Jana causes me to jump when she abruptly sits down beside me at the lunch table. “Scared ya?”

“A little,” I say, remembering to smile. “How’s your day been?”

“Boring. Texting James during class is all I have to amuse me. Where were you at lunch yesterday? Daniel said he tried texting you, but you didn’t answer.”

“I was in the library working on an English essay,” I lie, having planned out my excuse in advance. “Where’s Jordan and Taylor?”

“What? You’re not going to ask about Daniel?”

“Fine. Where’s Daniel?” I ask with exaggerated enthusiasm.

Jana sets her backpack down beside her. “Are you two fighting or something?”

“No. Why would you think that?”

“No reason at all,” she says accusingly. “Now. What are you doing for winter break?”

“I might go see my Dad in Canada. He’s supposed to call me today about it, actually.”

“How are they?”

I shrug. “They seem to be doing fine, though the weather is a little much for them, way different than living in Florida.”

Taylor joins the table, telling us that Jordan is home sick. She asks me where Daniel is and I shrug. Coincidently, my phone vibrates and I lift it to see a message from him.

DANIEL: Meet me at the track

I sigh. “I’ve gotta go. Daniel is at the track, and he wants me to meet him. I’ll see you guys later.”

It’s gloomy outside and puddles litter the pavement from the rain earlier. I avoid them as I near the track, spotting Daniel moving around it. I wait for him to come back around, sitting on one of the benches on the football field, watching him. When he comes back, he jogs straight over to me. My eyes stay on him as he sits down, his breaths a little heavy. “You texted?”

“I did,” he says, looking at me. “You didn’t answer me yesterday. I want to make sure that you’re okay.”

“I’m fine,” I say, “I was in the library working on an essay for English.” My eyes wander down to his hands, and his red, sore-looking knuckles cause me to look back up and grab him, holding his hand up so I can get a better view. “What’s this? What’s this from?”

He gently pulls his hand away, but I snatch it back, moving his hand so he gets a better view, but I am sure he’s seen it already. I grab the other and it is in the same beaten-up state.

“What did you do to accomplish this?” I ask, almost scolding him. “Tell me you didn’t-”

“No,” he says calmly, “I didn’t hit Harrison. There were punching bags at the gym, and I went a little overboard.”

“A little?” I let him take back his hands. “Don’t they have gloves or something?”

“They do,” he says, looking at me, into me.

“Well, you should actually wear them.”

“I’ll remember that for next time.”

Not knowing why he is so entertained by my face, my hand wipes at the corner of my mouth, thinking there may be toothpaste or something. “What is it?” I ask impatiently.

Daniel’s hand reaches out, and I think he is going to dust off an eyelash or piece of fuzz, but instead, he runs his fingers along my jaw, weaving into my hair. I know what he is going to do-I’ve learned from the past few times. I let him, this time, with no plans to tell him how he should stop kissing me whenever he pleases. His lips touch mine and the bubble forms around us as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist. It’s not just the sensation of his kisses that I’ve fallen in love with, it’s the subtle movements of his hands, fingers brushing away hair or stroking my jaw, the scent of him, the pull in my heart, the shakiness in my feet. It’s everything.

Then he places his hand on my thigh. I regretfully place mine on top of his, slowly leaving the kiss before glancing down at his hand trapped underneath.

“It bothers you, doesn’t it?” He murmurs, and I feel embarrassed. I want to say no, I want to let him place his hand there, but part of me refuses to lie to him about such things. “You can tell me,” Daniel says, picking up my face, lifting it to meet his.

“He used to do that,” I mumble with hot cheeks, “my teacher used to do that.” Daniel nods and takes his hand off of my leg. “I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t be sorry.” He stands up and begins to walk off towards the track.

Not wanting him to leave, I call out, “I can get over it. It’s not a big deal, it doesn’t matter. I’m fine. I’ll get over it.”

Daniel comes back to me, placing both hands on my arms, holding me as if he was teaching a child a lesson. “I’m not angry.”Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

“But you just walked away, I-”

“I was going to grab my bag,” he says, and I look past him to see his track bag against the chain-linked fence.

Feeling stupid, I shy away and turn my back to him, drifting a little towards the center of the field. “Sorry,”

I mutter, “that was, well, stupid. I just-I have so much going on right now. Between you, School, my mother, the video, and Harrison and Daphne-”

“What video?” Daniel cuts in and my mistake slaps me in the face.

“Oh. My video project,” I improvise, “it’s just something for English.”

“You have a video project and an essay?” He questions, and I innerly curse at myself.

“My teacher gives a lot of homework?” I toss out, knowing he won’t bite. “No one is hurting me.”

Daniel crosses his arms. “Then what video, Hailey?”

“I can’t tell you,” I say reluctantly. “Not right now, at least. I promise it’s nothing bad. No one is coming after me or anything, it’s just complicated.”

“I don’t like this.”

“I’m handling it. Just trust me that it’s nothing bad.”

Daniel glances off then looks at me with defeat. “You promise no one is hurting you?”

“I promise.”

With a sigh, he manages an “Alright.”