9. Izzy
9
IZZY
The assembly hall starts to fill up with students and their parents, everyone taking their seats as Mrs. Harper fiddles with connecting her laptop to the big screen. Chloe’s parents are already here, sitting at the far side of the row, with Josh and his parents next to them. There’s a two-seat gap between his parents and Amelia, seats that she’s saved for her parents who are definitely coming. There’s still a question of whether the two empty seats next to mine will be filled.
Amelia and I watch the door, and a couple of minutes later, her parents trail in. She stands up, waving them over with a huge smile on her face. They match her expression as they make their way over to us.
“Izzy, darling, how are you?” Mrs. Young asks as she hugs me. I try to ignore the pang in my chest at her soft tone.
“Good, thanks,” I tell her as Mr. Young shuffles past us to sit down.
“How’s Isaac?” she continues as she takes her coat off before sitting down next to me.
“He’s fine. Violet is, too.” I muster up the best smile I can and start talking about them to distract from the empty seats next to me. Amelia’s mum asks more questions, and I give her all the updates I can, telling her about Isaac’s plans to propose which has her hugging me again. I try not to sink into it, try not to imagine that it’s my own mum instead, but my mind gets carried away.
When she pulls back and notices the tears in my eyes, I blame it on being excited for the proposal. But with the sympathetic look she gives me and the glance over my shoulders, I know she knows the truth.
The room is filled now, everyone sitting with their parents, and Mrs. Harper looks expectantly at everyone so she can start her presentation. Mrs. Young pats my knee once, giving it a quick squeeze before she faces the front.
“Good evening, all. Thank you for joining us,” Mrs. Harper starts, but I don’t hear the rest of what she says.
I keep my gaze fixed on the closed doors, a tiny spark of hope still alight in my chest even though it’s been doused so many times before. I pull my phone out of my pocket, turning it over in my lap and unlocking it. Opening the message thread with my mum, I read her last message over and over.
Mum
We’ll check our schedules.
She never gave me any confirmation they were coming, so I don’t know why I still expected them to walk through those doors. I switch my phone off completely, the screen going black and reflecting my face as I look down at it. My lips press together, my expression completely blank. I put my phone away, look at the doors one more time before giving up completely.
I stare straight ahead at Mrs. Harper. I can see her mouth moving and how she gestures and points to things on the screen, but I can’t hear a word. There’s a ringing in my ears and I feel like I’m not in my body, everything happening with an invisible barrier in between.
It only comes down when Mrs. Young stands up next to me, jostling me as she puts her coat back on. I come back to myself, clearing away the lump in my throat as everyone around me starts to move.
I stand up with them, fidgeting with my skirt and jumper to make myself look busy. I don’t want to see the pitying look on their faces at my parents not showing up for me, so I say goodbye quickly and leave the room.
I could have invited Isaac and Violet. They would have turned up, no questions asked. But I wanted my parents there. Even though I don’t want to go to university, maybe some interest from them in my future could have swayed me.
They’ve shown me time and time again that they don’t want anything to do with me after the decision I made. But there’s still a foolish part of me, the younger Izzy, that’s still in my mind, and that wants them to care.
My eyes sting as I make my way toward the exit of the main building, wanting to be back in my room before I break down completely. I close my eyes, holding back the tears, when I collide with something.
I open them, looking to see what I’ve bumped into, and a broad back faces me. Then he turns around, and my jaw drops, embarrassment flooding me.
“Izzy,” he says softly, his hands coming up to touch my shoulders, but he drops them before he makes contact.
“Noah, sorry. I didn’t see you there,” I say, hoping he doesn’t hear the waver in my voice.
“Are you okay?” he asks, looking down at me with concern in his warm eyes.
“I’m good,” I force out. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I step to the side of him, giving a quick nod to who I assume are his parents as they watch me.
My hand goes up to my forehead as I chide myself for not looking where I was going and embarrassing myself even more. I walk slower this time, not wanting my panic to be so obvious. I hear Noah and his parents speaking in Korean with each other, and then there’s a tap on my shoulder. I take a breath, calming myself as much as I can before I turn.
“Izzy, are you sure you’re okay?” Noah asks, and this time his hand does come up to my shoulder. His fingers trail gently down until he’s grazing my upper arm, and it sends shivers down my spine.
His eyebrows are creased, worry in his eyes, and there’s so much sincerity in his question that I tell him the truth.
“I’m not,” I confess and a tear escapes before I can stop it.
More people flood into the entryway to make their way out of the building, and Noah must see something in my eyes because he guides me toward a small alcove, hiding us away from everyone else.
“You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, but I’ll listen if you want to talk,” he whispers.
We’re standing so close that he doesn’t need to speak any louder. I stare down at our feet, his placed on either side of mine like he’s creating a shield around me. I clench my jaw, trying to figure out a way I can explain why I’m upset without exposing everything to him.
“My parents didn’t show up tonight,” I tell him, hiding the reason why they didn’t. I sniffle, wiping at my eyes and nose and shaking my head. “I’ll be fine, I’m just being dramatic.”
I look up at him, hoping he’ll see the fake smile on my face and think that it’s real. He tips his head to the side, focusing his eyes on mine, and I know he doesn’t.
“You’re not being dramatic,” he says softly. “I’m sorry they weren’t here for you tonight.”
“Thank you,” I say, and his fingers squeeze my arm gently before he lets go of me. I want his hand there again, I want him to ground me so I don’t feel like I’m floating away.
“Do you want me to walk you to your room?” he asks, and my heart skips a beat at how lovely he is. This boy who barely knows me, and who I keep forcing into conversations and a friendship, might actually care about me.
“I’ll be okay,” I reassure him and myself.
He nods, moving closer to the wall and giving me space to leave. I step past him, my arm brushing his. He hooks his pinky into mine and I stop in my tracks, my heart racing. I don’t look up at him, a heavy exhale leaving me at the small contact. I close my eyes as he drags his finger down slowly, letting go of me.
“See you tomorrow, Izzy,” he whispers.
I step away from him, exiting the building and leaving him behind before I do something stupid like telling all of my secrets to the boy with beautifully sad eyes.