The Weathered Secrets by Gabriela Torres

As I tightly wrap my arms around my stomach, I inhale deeply, letting the foggy morning air seep into my lungs. I glance at the turn across the street, where the familiar whoosh of a bus gradually grows louder, its yellow color, sticking out like a beacon against the muted world. 

When it comes to a complete stop, I reach down for my heavy backpack on the floor, biting back a sigh through clenched teeth as its now damp materials meets skin. Great, I think to myself, climbing the stairs to the vehicle. 

I pick my usual empty pair of seats and let myself fall into the comfort of the slightly worn vinyl below me, looking out the window as the bus lurches forward. Through it, I observe the sky, its cloudy contents blocking any color from bleeding into the achromatic world. My lips twitch upwards at the sight of it, of the absence of the sun I have grown to dislike. Enough to have garnered a slight fame for it around the village, a small fragment of the puzzle that defines me in the eyes of the people. 

As the bus comes to its penultimate stop, the usual passengers begin pouring in, filling in the rest of the seats. The usual hum of conversation grows along the aisle, mixing in with the ruffles of the newspapers, and I catch a few people unsurely looking my way. What’s going on today? My mind doesn’t have time to escape to the safety of its usual thoughts, before a lady, one I recognize as the worker of a grocery store nearby, approaches me, quickly folding the newspaper she was just reading into her purse. 

“May I sit here, dear?”, she croaks as she pats the empty aisle seat beside me. Without waiting for an answer, she plops down, clearing her throat before bringing her eyes back to mine. Suddenly, she begins showering me with compliments, most of which don’t have to do with me at all, but I smile, nevertheless. Her eyes seem to have a life of their own, skittering to the window after every word, before finally lighting up the same time I feel the sunshine hot against my back. 

“Well, I think that’s enough, Skylar”, she mutters in a sudden dismissive tone. Before I have time to reply, the bus door opens once more, this time to the white school building I know too well. Stepping out, I head towards the entrance, now glowing in the feeble sunlight, as the encounter in the bus echoes in my mind. Had I done something wrong? Or maybe had I been not kind enough? The never-ending questions swirl in my head, like leaves caught in a gust of wind. 

Recollecting myself, I enter my classroom, just in time to see everyone hide their phones in their backpack as our teacher comes in. Unlike everyone else, I never owned a phone due to my parents’ unwavering lectures of keeping my brain away from too much technology. This, coupled with my intense focus on studies, means I don’t have a lot of company throughout the day. 

Reaching for a pencil, I begin quickly scribbling notes into my notebook, when a tap on my shoulder makes me jolt, “Well, I don’t know if you heard the professor”, Cara says, looking me up and down, “but we are supposed to join into groups of three, and Amanda and I thought we should ask you”. I stare blankly at them both and nod, confused on why they have decided to finally talk to me now after treating me like a specter the past few years. 

“You look surprised”, she says, “I don’t know why, though, considering you are one of our closest friends. I mean you certainly are”, she glances at her friend “…smart”. I look up at the comment, my confusion lingering, but the corners of my lips curve into a smile I can’t seem to fight back. Although a few people have already been nice to me, it usually did not last long. However, her words create a bubble of warmth around me, temporarily erasing all the doubt from before. I shrug, engulfing myself into the conversation now blooming between us. 

Hours later, the bell rings, making the hallways flood with students once more. I clumsily towards my locker, where I catch the sight of two familiar faces to my left, making my face light up. 

“So, it’s settled right? The gathering will be today, since, it will be sunny, after…”, her words trail off, “make sure everyone’s invited, except Skylar”.  

I feel the bliss drain from my face, replaced by a chill that seems to echo throughout my bones. My eyes sting, as an ache buries further in me, leaving a void deep within my stomach, the small chance of friendship evaporating. I head to the bus waiting outside, where the sunshine above dissipates, encapsulated by the storm that swirls angrily, pouring down in relentless downpour that threatens to swallow me whole.  

I pick the seats closest to the back and let myself fall against it, finding solace in the solitude I’m so used to. The passengers around me glance my way, their expressions glued with weary smiles, and their mouths with words of kindness that weave me deeper in a web of uncertainty, where my feelings all seem to tangle and knot. Whilst one part of me beams with each phrase, the other falls deeper into the abyss of my misery. Insisting that, like everyone else, they will move on, their kindness only a temporary gift. Outside, the thunder roars, battling to eliminate the stubborn sun, repetitively trying to fight its way in.  

Without warning, the bus embarks on its journey, silencing the passengers around me, and turning sharply in every direction, mirroring the turmoil occurring within me. Reaching the familiar stop to my house, I grab my backpack and step out onto the gritty pavement, avoiding the lingering eyes that follow me. My footsteps only a whisper amidst the raging war above, as two figures, I recognize as my neighbors discuss something in their porch,  

“Honey, what’s all the worry for? The weather will be perfect for our day at the beach tomorrow! We just have to talk with that little girl from next door. I’m sure you’ve saw it in the news going around”. 

My breath hitches as I process what was said, feeling everything fall into place.  

From that moment onwards, the village only ever saw clouds, there was never a hint of sunshine nor of rain.