Reagan

Eight Years Ago

I already knew this day was going to be hell. Somehow, I'd managed to get halfway through it, fairly unscathed. I just hoped my luck would last.

I bit my bottom lip, looking around for an empty table in the busy cafeteria. Students were piling in as it was lunchtime, and tables were at a premium. I spotted a vacant one in the far corner and walked resolutely, holding my plastic tray filled with a soda and tub of yogurt. The truth was, I wasn't hungry. But I couldn't well sit here by myself, not eating, because that would attract even more attention, which was the last thing that I wanted.

A sigh of relief escaped me when I reached the table before anyone else could grab it, and I set down my sparsely populated tray, staring vacantly out a window near me. Someone driving past in a car suddenly hit their brakes hard, and the screeching sound made me shudder. It was a beautiful, sunny Southern California day, which completely belied how I felt inside – gray.

My attention was drawn inside when I heard a whisper – something that sounded like "check out the new girl," coming from a guy at the next table over. That "new girl" would be me, but I pretended not to hear or pay attention to the obvious stares from other students who were studying me like I was some form of freakish zoo exhibit. I was in high school hell right now...

I kept my gaze averted and opened the can of soda, then reached for a straw, realizing that I couldn't just sit here. I fished a book out of my bag, my fingers grazing the note that I'd found just that morning inside a rolled pair of socks. My mom always used to hide little notes for me, just to tell me that she loved me, wishing me a good day, or sometimes containing a cute little quote. Today's note read: 'You've got this, kiddo.' And finding this note today of all days gave me the strength I so badly needed.

I pretended to start reading, even though the words swam in front of my eyes. The truth was, I wasn't in a state to read a single thing. Would I ever feel like myself again?

'Damn it, Reagan, pull yourself together. Don't cry in the middle of the cafeteria on your first day.'

"Hi!" A soft, female voice suddenly spoke right next to me, startling me a little.

I swallowed away the threatening tears, then looked up, and saw a girl who I recognized from one of my classes that morning standing next to my table, smiling at me. She was pretty with her blonde ponytail, blue eyes, and flawless skin, and her clothes attested to the fact that she came from a well-off family. Which shouldn't really have been a surprise, because this was a school for rich kids, which was pretty far removed from the high school I'd just transferred from.

"Hi." I managed a hint of a smile, wondering if she was going to boot me out of my seat because I'd inadvertently taken her group's usual table. I had no idea how things worked around here, and I hoped that she would be polite about the whole thing if I'd unknowingly stepped on someone's toes.

"I'm Serena." She reached out a hand, still smiling, and I shook it still with a high degree of apprehension, although the first thing I really noticed about her was that she had kind eyes.

"Reagan," I said when I realized that she was waiting for me to introduce myself.

"Nice to meet you. I saw you this morning in Mrs. Townsend's class. You're new, right?" She took a seat on the opposite end of the table, and my eyes widened in surprise.

"Yes. First day." But what I really wanted to say was, please don't be a bitch to me; I just don't think I could handle that today.

"So, I noticed that you were sitting alone, and my friends and I were wondering if you'd like to join us?"

My lips parted slightly in surprise, and she motioned two tables over, where a guy and a girl were sitting, raising their hands in a wave.

"Um... sure. Thank you."

"Great!" She smiled. "Do you need help with your tray?"

"No, I'm fine, thanks."

I gathered my items and was on the verge of standing up when a group of girls who all seemed way overdressed for a high school cafeteria, came to a standstill at my table. They were holding trays and wore unimpressed expressions on their faces.

"This is our table," one of them informed me, rather rudely.

"Tiffany, she's new, and she didn't know; I've invited her to sit with us," Serena said to the rude girl, who lifted an unimpressed eyebrow at her.

"Please tell her how things work around here." The girl, whose name must be Tiffany, sat down at the table, spreading out her belongings, and I realized that it was my cue to get the hell away from there as soon as I could.

"This way." Serena smiled at me, and I followed her to the table where her friends were waiting.

"I'm Ivana." The redhead smiled at me as I took my seat.

"Will." The guy reached across the table and shook my hand.

"Reagan." I managed a smile, and they both nodded.

"Sorry, Tiffany was being a bitch. A word of warning: it's best to steer clear of her and her group." Serena took a seat next to me, sighing.

"I take it that the table I was sitting at is reserved for them?" I raised an eyebrow, and Serena smirked.

"Reserved? Not technically. But as far as they're concerned, it's 'their table,' and as I said, it's better to steer clear of them because they're brutal."

"Noted."

Everyone started digging into their meals, but then Serena frowned, looking at my tray.

"Aren't you hungry?"

I shook my head. "Not really."

"First day nerves?" She smiled encouragingly.

"Kind of," I evaded the question because I didn't want to alienate the first potential friend I'd made here by unloading the story of my life on her. Besides, I didn't like talking about the whole thing – it was still too raw and fresh.

"Did your family move here from another state?" She tried to make conversation again, unknowingly hitting a nerve.

"No, I've transferred over from another school in the area," I explained.

"Why?" The guy whose name I'd forgotten asked, studying me with interest.

"You don't look like a trouble-maker." Ivana cocked an eyebrow.

"I wasn't expelled. It was nothing like that." I bit my bottom lip, digging my nails into the palms of my hand. I knew I had to give some sort of explanation and just bite the damn bullet and get it over with.

"Um... my mom died, and I now live with my grandmother – she works in the administration office here, her name is Margaret Payne," I dropped the bombshell, and everyone around the table froze for a second. There – I managed to say it without crying – that was a first, even though I could feel my eyes prickling with warmth.

'Don't cry, Reagan.'

"I'm so sorry; I had no idea." Serena's hand flew to her mouth, and the guy averted his gaze, eating his food while Ivana looked at me with wide eyes, mouthing, "sorry."

"You didn't know. It's fine." I tried not to make a big deal out of it, although it was. The fact was, we buried my mom two weeks ago, and my life had been shaken upside down since. New home, new school, new zip code an hour away from my friends at my old school. I was now essentially orphaned, living with my grandmother, because my dad died when I was three, and I barely remembered him. My two older brothers both lived far away, meaning it was just Nan and me now.

Mom always used to get sad whenever I asked questions about dad, so I stopped asking a long time ago. But what I did know was that mom had been left with a mountain of debt and three little kids to raise all by herself. We never had much money, but mom made up for it by being the best damn mom one could wish for. She worked two jobs but always ensured that we had a solid, warm meal for dinner. Always asked about our day. Always turned up to my soccer matches. Went without when I needed a new pair of shoes.

But three weeks ago, a drunk driver smashed into her while she was driving home from work. The offender also died at the scene, so the police couldn't even charge anyone. He was driving under the influence while twice over the legal limit, and had been looking at his phone when he skipped a red light. I didn't even have anyone to be angry with and yell at, because he was dead. But even though he was dead, I hated him.

"Are you okay?" Serena asked me softly, and I swallowed, feeling the burn of tears at the back of my throat.

"Yeah," I lied.

"You must miss your friends at your old school," Ivana asked clumsily, clearly not quite knowing how to react.

"Yeah."

I looked around the cafeteria, not ready to look anyone in the eyes, just needing a moment to compose myself before speaking again. Noticing how nicely everyone was dressed. How newly the walls were painted. How the tables and chairs were in mint condition – unlike my old high school where the walls were chipped, and things were falling apart. And I knew I had to be grateful that my grandmother, who was now my legal guardian, happened to have a job in administration at such a prestigious school, meaning that she didn't have to pay for my tuition fees. There was no way in hell that I'd ever be able to afford to go to a school like this otherwise. I supposed that I did have something to be thankful for, even though my life had been a tragedy since the accident happened. But what a price I'd paid for the privilege of getting into a school like this...

*****

Later that afternoon, I waited for Nan outside the administration office. I felt depleted and exhausted. The day had drained me, and I couldn't wait to get home, close my bedroom door behind me and just curl up and sob with the music on loudly so that Nan wouldn't be any wiser.

"There you are! How was your first day, my beautiful girl?" Nan asked, putting a smile on her grief-stricken face for my benefit. The fact was that she'd lost a daughter at the exact same moment I'd lost my mother. We were both in a world of pain, but she was trying to put on a brave face in front of me.

"It was okay, I guess." I shrugged unenthusiastically, still feeling completely overwhelmed by my new surroundings.

"Made any friends?" She eyed me curiously.

I nodded, smiling slightly. "Yeah. There's this girl who has some classes with me, Serena...."

Nan nodded in approval, her smile broadening. "She's a lovely girl. Excels academically and never gets into trouble. You'll do well to make friends with her."

Nan kept asking me questions about my day as we walked to her car.

"Brandon called me earlier; he wanted to know how you are doing," Nan said as she got into the driver's seat, turning toward me.

I nodded, smiling for her benefit. Missing my brothers like hell because I didn't have much to hold onto anymore. Brandon was the eldest and a semester away from graduating with a business degree. He was a division one athlete on a swimming scholarship at the University of Georgia. He was really good but recently narrowly missed out on a spot in the Olympic team. He was working a part-time job to support himself, and from what he was saying when I talked to him over the phone, barely had any time left over to sleep. Ryan was a year younger than Brandon, and worked in construction. The company he worked for had a couple of big hotel projects going in Nevada, meaning that he'd relocated there just a few months prior.

"I'll give him a call tonight," I promised, already knowing that it would be hard to catch him with his demanding schedule.

We drove back home in silence, but I could see the frown lines on Nan's face. She looked worried today, too, for some reason, in addition to the now-familiar expression of grief that I'd become used to.

"Everything okay?" I realized that I hadn't asked about her day at all, and felt guilty.

She let out a sigh. "Yes. I've had a call about your mother's estate. The house will be sold within the next couple of weeks." But although she hadn't said much, something told me that there was more to the story that she wasn't telling me.

A silent tear rolled down my cheek. My heart hurt. Our house wasn't much, but until recently, it had been the only house I'd ever known. It ripped my heart out to pack my clothes and belongings and close that door behind me, feeling like I'd lost the person I used to be. I'd lost my innocence, because suddenly I wasn't just a kid anymore.

"We'll have to go and pack up what's left in there. And I know it's hard, but it's only things, Reagan." She tried to make me feel better, noticing the tears streaming down my cheeks.

"Right," I said bitterly. Wondering if she really understood how hard this was for me.

"You're being so strong. Your mom would be so proud of you."

Now I was crying even harder. I missed my mom like hell. My chest felt so empty; I didn't even know if I had a heart anymore.

"You're an incredible young woman, Reagan. And although this is hard – so, so hard – it's true what they say – what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger." She sniffed, also close to tears.

Only, I wasn't so sure that this wasn't going to kill me.

"It will be okay," I murmured. Not really believing my own words, but wondering if saying them would somehow make them true.

And as I finally closed my bedroom door behind me, I dropped my bag and slid down the back of the door, my legs giving in underneath me. I hugged my knees, curled into a little ball on the floor. But as sad as I felt, the tears didn't come. Perhaps I'd cried so much already these past few weeks that I had no tears left. Instead, there was an overwhelming sense of fear and desolation. Because I'd never, ever felt so alone.