People here act as if being blind means I've gone deaf as well. Truth is, I can hear all the whispers and rumors that float through the halls. It doesn't help that I walked smack-dab into the fucking doorway of the office as soon as I entered the school. I thought I had memorized the steps but apparently, I was wrong.

This should have been my defining year. I was going to be a senior football player on his way to bigger things. Football was my life and my ticket out of this town. It was all I cared about pursuing since my dad took me to my first game as a kid. Now, I'm not a horrible student or anything, but football is what I'm great at - was great at. I had plans of going pro. Of being the first athlete from Norton Valley to become an NFL player.

Now, all those dreams are gone. Just like that. Because of one stupid mistake, everything I ever cared for was taken from me.All I want to do today is stay home, eat junk food, and listen to the TV. But Mom and dad insisted that I come to school even though it's the last thing I want. I can't play football, and that means I can't even pretend that everything is fine. Even if I could, it would be a lie. I don't need everyone to know that.

On top of that, Jackson is now almost attached to my hip everywhere I go. He's taken it upon himself to help me walk down the halls and keep people from bothering me. As grateful as I am for his help, all he's been able to do is get on my nerves. Which isn't fair, considering he's only trying to be a good friend. I just want to stop and take time to process everything, but the rest of my life moves on, mocking me. Reminding me of everything I've lost.

At least my friends have stuck around, unlike my ex. But that doesn't bother me anymore. Right now, my biggest concern is whether I want to go to class or not. Standing on the precipice of the beginning of a whole different high school experience, I falter. I can't force my feet to move.

"You just gonna stand there glaring at that door, or are you gonna go in?" Travis approaches me and wraps an arm around my shoulders. "I know you can see shadows, man, so don't pretend you don't know where you are."

"Technically, I have no clue where I am. I just know I'm in front of a classroom full of people waiting for me to walk into something again." I pause to shrug his arm off. "And they're not shadows. They're little flashes of whatever when something specific passes by me. I'm still completely blind."

I narrow my eyes at where I assume the door is and take a deep breath. It's as if my eyes are still trying, despite the prognosis telling me otherwise. But if Jackson hadn't led me here, I never would have found my way, even with the training I underwent to better understand my position and my surroundings. "Besides, I can just tell them I got turned around, and since I'm blind, they won't question it."

"That excuse will only last so long, Tay. It's better to not wear it out so soon. They'll just hire you an actual guide or something. Someone who's not Jackson - who's not already your friend." Travis sighs, lacing his arm through mine. This close, I can smell his cologne. Since I can't see anymore, my other senses have gotten stronger, and now the once faint smell radiating from him is almost pungent.

"I'll walk you to and from your classes with Jackson when I can, but if you don't want me to, I won't push it."

I want to refuse, to laugh it off and tell him I'll be okay, but I know I can't. It was hard enough to get to this class, and I don't want to think about finding classes across the school. So, I sigh and nod before taking a few steps forward to my first class.

"See you in eighty-two minutes!" Travis calls as I cross the line of no return.

Eighty-two minutes of literal hell.

"Well, hello, Mr. Pérez. How nice of you to join us. I trust you found your way here okay?" Mr. Golde's voice comes from the front of the room, and I figure he's staring at me through his bespectacled eyes. I wonder if he dyed his hair over the summer like he planned to.

"As well as I could, sir," I replied, feeling my way to the front corner of the room. I hope my nonchalant way of running my fingers over the desks masks my fear of not finding mine. Their surfaces are smooth, and I keep to the edges in case anyone is sitting in the front row. My normal desk, as I suspected, was empty, and I'm grateful I didn't make a fool of myself again.

What I wanted to say was, "Hell, no, I'm blind. Of course, I didn't find my way here okay." But that would only get me a pink slip on the first day of school. Plus, it would put me on the bad side of one of the few teachers I respect. And quite possibly earn my father's anger for speaking to his friend like that.

The whole time Mr. Golde teaches, I can hear as he writes equations on the board, reading them aloud and solving them. My heart aches at the memory of the days I stared out the window instead of paying attention. I can't see what I'm supposed to be learning now, and I have to rely on my ears to know what is happening. That is more torture than I can wish on my worst enemy.

Even now, I focus my remaining senses on the window beside me for the entirety of the class. Rather than crying like I want, I inhale the scent of the air outside to center myself. The faint stench of cow manure and diesel fumes drifts past.

Somehow, I still manage to understand what Mr. Golde is talking about, up until the tinny ringing of the bell calls for the end of class. I fumble around to grab my books, swearing when one slips out of my hand and crashes to the ground. I shove it into my backpack and am almost through the door when Mr. Golde calls, "Mateo."

I cringe, stopping to turn around. Each of my muscles tense, ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble. "Yes?"

"You forgot your notebook." Oh. Of course, I did. That's another thing. When you're blind, you tend to 'forget' things.When I go to retrieve it, he holds on to it. His tone is soft as he speaks again, "If you ever fall behind, don't be afraid to ask for help. I did my best today to ensure you could hear and understand everything that's going on, but I know there will be times when I'll forget." He lets go of the book and steps away.

"Keep in mind that paraprofessionals and a special-ed tutoring program are available to you as well. If you want to enroll in it. I know it's gonna be difficult to turn in your homework without help, so I encourage looking into the program. I'll be giving the information to your father, as well. However, if your grades drop, it will become mandatory, understand?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you." I add my notebook to my backpack. I bite my lip in thought as I turn and feel my way through the doorway. My issue is adding an extra burden on Mr. Golde, and I feel bad for making him do more work. I don't want to burden someone else, either, but if I get too far behind, I'll have no other choice.

Just like he told me he would be, Travis is waiting outside the classroom. He's talking with someone else, but his tone is short and clipped. It's unlikely that it's Jackson he's arguing with, but I'm not sure who else it might be.

"We need to talk," the other person says to me. My heart sinks. It could be any number of girls, but the lilt in her voice is unforgettable.

"About what, Roxanne?" I respond. Not waiting to hear her answer, I walk away, making sure to stick to the side of the hall. I don't want someone to run into me and cause even more unwanted pity. I've already gotten a shit-ton of it. Plus, with fewer people, it will make my escape easier. And, if Roxie genuinely wants to talk to me, she'll follow.

"Us. I don't want to hurt you, but I want to break up." The clack-clack of her heels follows me, the sharp sounds rising above the chatter. Each click adds to the stabbing feeling in my chest. "And don't call me that. You know I prefer Roxie."

"Hurt me? I was under the impression that we already broke up." I stop and turn to her. Does she really think we're still together after she ghosted me for weeks?

"I mean, you left me almost right after I got out of the hospital. You know, the 'suffocating sadness' and all." I use my fingers to add air quotes, rolling my eyes. "Plus, according to several people, you were all over Patrick Hannel at a party last Friday. I'd say you've already moved on."

A small croak escapes her, and I imagine she's staring at me with her full lips hanging apart like a guppy. Does she think I can't hear about what she does behind my back? Her friends might lie to her, but mine wouldn't do the same to me. I sigh, running a hand through my hair. This isn't something I want to deal with right now. I just need to get through school and go home so I don't have to deal with people anymore.

"Well, as fun as it is to sit here and argue with you about something you've already made very clear, I'm gonna go to class." With that, I turn on my heel and walk away.

Eventually, I'm so engrossed in my thoughts as I slide my shoulder over the row of lockers to track my location that I'm not prepared to run into someone small. We both fall to the ground, and I groan as the person crashes into my lap.

"Oh, my goodness, I'm so sorry," the girl babbles as she stands up. "I didn't mean to fall on you! Are you okay?"

I'm fine. The painful throbbing in my groin tells me the opposite, but I squeeze my eyes shut to ignore it. I'm quickly distracted by the familiar voice of the girl.

I shake my head, reaching for some books that are touching my feet. "No, it's fine. I can't see where I'm going, so it's probably more my fault." Despite the joke at my own misfortune, it still doesn't seem to calm the frantic shuffling sounds in front of me.

"I'm still sorry for running into you," she responds. "I'll have to make it up to you. But I'm gonna be late, so I've got to go. Maybe I'll see you at lunch to apologize?"

Wait, is that Emori? I could recognize that voice from anywhere. It seems to roll off her tongue like honey, and the smile she used to send me was enough to make even the coldest of hearts melt. No one forgets someone like that.

I smile, remembering her round face as I stand up with the books in my hands. "I don't know, Emori. I'm not sure something like this can be forgiven." I flash her my cheekiest of grins. "Kidding. I would love to take you up on that offer."

The air shifts as she stands up, taking the books from my arms.

"Okay. See you later." A flash of moving shadow retreats from my vision as she scurries away. Then everything is dark again. Both literally and figuratively.

"Dude, if only you could see her." Travis throws his arm around my shoulders, pulling me forward. "She lost weight. Hell, I almost didn't recognize her when I saw her earlier."

"Really?" I ask. All summer, she'd been telling me about how well she was doing at camp. I didn't believe me, but I remained supportive. If she's happy now, I wish I was able to see it. It's all I ever wanted for her. "That's great."

"I know, right? Plus, she's kind of hot now." He laughs a little. "I was surprised."

"Why? Because she was big before?" I raise an eyebrow at him. "How does that make her ugly?"

"You know that's not what I -"

"I'm not sure," I interrupt. I shake my head. "Whatever. I'm happy for her. You should be, too."

Times like these – when big things happen – make me wish I was never in that car with Gavin. Well, that's a lie. Every minute makes me wish I was never in the car with Gavin. I knew he was drunk and I should have forced him to let me drive, but I didn't. That was my fault.

My brother's death is my fault. Nothing will ever change that. No amount of psychological help will make me think otherwise. Nothing can break him back. Nothing can bring the old me back. The Tay everyone knows and loves. The Tay that's now gone.

Now I have to suffer the consequences of being the one who survived.