On Monday I drive to school thirty minutes earlier than usual. There’s a low fog, and everything seems wet. I’m sure the teachers are already at school, standing around swapping stories and waking up with their coffee, preparing for a whole new day in the glory of educating teenagers.
Miss Mound isn’t in her room when I get there, so I sit down in a chair and try to look miserable. I sit in silence for a few minutes until she walks in.
“Oh no! What happened?!” She places her bags and coffee on a student desk in the back.
I force my eyes to get teary.
“I was carrying a box to my car and lost my footing stepping off the porch. I’m so sorry.” I pick my crutches up off the floor to make sure she sees them. “The doctor said it’s not broken, but I have to stay in this boot for six to eight weeks.”
“Six to eight weeks?” She comes around to get a closer look.
“Yeah.”
“Well, hmm. Nothing you can do about that.” She puts her hands on her hips and stares at the boot.
A tear drops down my cheek.
Cassidy sees me hobbling to my first class, and I tell her before she has a chance to ask.
“Tripped off the porch.”
Her eyebrows scrunch.
“Sheesh. Are you kidding me?!”
“I was carrying a box and misjudged where the step was.”
She looks like she’s stepped out of a magazine. Dressy high-heel boots, leggings, and a cute chunky sweater. She swings a new, giant Michael Kors bag onto her shoulder.
“Do you need help?”
“Nah, I got it.” My canvas bag hangs from my wrist so my hands are able to wrap around the crutches’ handles. “Oh, I’ll have your money soon. Probably the first of next week, if that’s okay.”
She stares at me without words. She knows me too well, and this isn’t a good thing at the time.
“Chelsea, keep the money. I don’t care about that. I’m just worried about you. You’ve been so non-existent; you’ve completely separated yourself from everything and everyone. And now this?” She points to my boot.
“I’m fine. Really, I’m fine.”
“What’d Miss Mound say?” “I told her with the injury that there’s not much I can do. She said that’s fine, just bring her a doctor’s note.”
“How are you going to do that?”
“What do you mean how am I going to do that?”
‘The doctor’s note?”
“I’m going to bring her a doctor’s note.” I say firmly.
“So you’re really hurt?”
I roll my eyes and walk away.
__________
After school I pull to the back of a dry cleaner’s parking lot and shift my car to park. I keep the engine running as I remove the boot and grab my crutches. I get out—thanking God that that’s over for the day—and pop the trunk. I’d always thought crutches were so cool when I was little, but now my opinion is quite different after a day of underarm pain.
When I drive home, Dad’s sitting on the porch waiting for me.
He never does this.