Chapter 3: The Big Tree

The first day of school is always the worst. All the assholes wait outside for the fresh 'meat' they will hit on. Braces are a superpower to keep them both away. Unfortunately, I'm not very pretty, so that this first last day will be a cakewalk.

"Lily, are you ready for your last-first day of school?" Mom says, coming into my room with a camera.

"Jesus...woman! Can't you knock? I'm still in my bra?"

I push my mom out of the door. I don't need any more embarrassing photos for the family scrapbook. My parents are dinosaurs with their libraries and photo albums. I love my kindle and praise it like a living deity.

"Sorry, honey. I'm so excited and sad for you."

"What are you sad about?" Crap, why did I ask...it's because I'm leaving.

"You're leaving the nest in a year, and I'm sad. Who's going to hang out with me next year and watch Friday night soap operas?" Mom sobs like a baby.

"Mom, it's okay. And I never watched those shows. I just sat there and read fanfiction. You'll still have dad." I point out.

"Yes. I'll be around, or did you forget?" Dad smirks.

"I know you'll be here. But our Lily won't be here," Mom barks and gets out her camera again. She squeezes my sides. I think I heard a rib pop.

Mom stands at the top of the stairs and takes pictures of me. She gets different angles like I am model material.

"I need to go, Mom. Can't we do this tomorrow?" I ask.

"No, because tomorrow isn't your last-first day. It will be your last-second day, and no one cares about that. The first day of school pictures are the most important."

"Mom, the bus is here. Can I please take the car today?" I ask, knowing I'm the only senior who still takes the bus. How embarrassing.

"No, Lily, we need the car. Dad has the interview for his promotion today. We can't have him being late for that. See you tonight," Mom says.

Dad opens the front door and hands me my sacked lunch. God, a sacked lunch in a brown paper bag. I'm really asking to get punched. I know the KAT trio is a gang of bitches, but they have a point that I'm a loser. Braces, bus on the first day as a senior, and a sacked lunch to boot. I should have played hooky like the cool seniors.

Mom follows me like I forgot something.

"Lily...Lily-kins, wait." God, she called me that in front of everyone. I think I'm going to be sick.

"Yes, mom? What did I forget now?"

"I wanted to take a picture of you with the school bus driver. She's taken you to school since sixth grade. It deserves a place in our album."

"No, it doesn't. I need to go. Bye, mom."

I step my foot onto the bus, and my mom's hand holds me back.

"No, Lily, I am taking that picture. Now! Good morning, Mrs. Norris. Can I take a picture of you and Lily-kins? She's a senior, and it's her last first day ever before college. Can you get out of the bus and take a quick picture?"

I feel the glaring eyes of my peers. The giggles, the laughs, and the comments kill me. Thanks for killing me socially for the entire school year, mother. I did not care about what they thought, but being a senior means, I am even more on top and alone. Mom is scaring all future sons-in-law away, and she doesn't even know it.

"Sure, we can take one quick picture."

Crap, why did Mrs. Norris consent to my embarrassment.

"What a loser," Kelly says as she slows down in her fancy Honda.

"Smile...3...2...1!" Click! Mom has taken the picture. And I know I've broken the camera. My braces ruin photographs. Why should this one be any different?

"Bye, Lily." Mom waves.

I find my place on the bus. The back row. My phone beeps. It's Instagram. My mom has posted a photo of me and tagged me. I'm sure I'll go viral by noon. To my mom, it's a memory; to me, it's a warrant. I was hoping to avoid the vultures when I got off the bus.

I wait for everyone else to get off the bus. The warning bell has gone off. But I don't care. I can't face the assholes making mean comments about me on Instagram.

Kelly: Lily, the loser. Her braces make her face look like a train station.

Alexa: I know, right.

Tia: Chugga Chugga Chew Chew!!

I hate seeing their names everywhere. If I deleted my Instagram, then my book followers would be disappointed. I'm a bookstagrammar. Meaning people follow me and read my reviews of various novels. It's hard to be a critic. Someone must do it.

"It's time to get off, Lily. I need to get the bus ready to pick up the half-day preschoolers, " Mrs. Norris says.

"Thanks for the ride."

"No problem. And remember, your mom loves you. If you want to delete that photo on Instagram, I won't be offended. That was a little embarrassing. My mother is a strong-willed woman, too. Good luck today."

"Thanks. I'll try to remember that."

I see the vultures pointing and laughing at me. Being on top is lonely. I can do this. I can do this. The KAT trio is waiting to pick on me. Fuck it. I hide behind and tree, and for the first time in my life, I decided to ditch school. Being bullied isn't worth coming to school.

I pick up my feet and run. I've never done anything like this. It's a good thing I'm eighteen. No one can legally harass me about ditching. I know I'll get a detention. But maybe it's worth it. I'll show up and have lunch.

I find the big tree in the park across the street. Harris Park is the best place to be a child. I used to climb to the top of the tree and read books. Well, it seems like a great place to wait for a few hours.

The ladder to get to the top is still there. Three steps up, and I can finally relax.

"Hey, I was here first. Find your own spot." A tall boy I haven't seen before says. His hair is dark, and half of it hangs in his face. His eyes are a faded blue. His nails are nubs. He clearly chews out of a nervous habit. His arms have scratches all over them. They look self-inflicted.

"Oh, sorry. I'm just trying to hide away from school," I confess.

"Well, you've come to the right place. You go to Ashmore too?"

"Yeah, I'm a senior. You?"

"Same. How come I've never seen you before?" The boy asks.

"I try to be invisible. I don't have friends. Not real ones anyway," I reply. I feel like a loser for revealing so much information to a stranger from my supposed high school class.

"I don't have friends either. People suck. I'd prefer the quiet. So, if you don't mind, you can leave now," he yells.

He tries to kick me out of the tree. I hold my own against his foot.

"Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to sit on the highest branch I can climb to, and you can enjoy the comfortable middle section of the tree. Deal?" I ask.

I hold my hand out to shake his. He gets his foot off my arms and helps me up the tree.

"Deal. Get climbing. And I don't want to talk to you. I'm sitting here until school ends," he barks.

"Well, I'm going back at lunch. So, I won't be here long. My name's Lily."

I shake his hand firmly, and he lets go.

"I know who you are. I lied. Nice to meet you, Train Tracks. Your braces aren't as bad as they say. My name's Jeremey. Now get climbing. I don't want to chat."

"Oh, sure. Thanks."

I hate that he knows me. But I don't know him. Our class size is eight hundred strong. I thought I had seen everyone and had eye contact with each one of them. Going to a city-state for high school is intimidating.

I don't look at Jeremey. Instead, I read The Kissing Booth and watch the hours tick by. Finally, the bell for lunch goes off, and I tuck my novel in my bag. As I descend the tree, I notice Jeremey writing in a notebook. His handwriting resembles the handwriting on the suicide note.

"Excuse me, Jeremey, I was wondering what's your last name?"

He glares at me, unimpressed.

"Davis. Now go to lunch and never come to this tree again, Lily Green."

His response sends me into shock. Is it possible he's the author of the suicide note? Jeremy Davis, are you 'J. D' or is it all in my head? I climb down the tree and head into the building for lunch. Although, for some reason, I have completely lost my appetite.