Page 7 of Never Enough
“Let’s go, Daphne!” The harsh voice slashes the moment apart, and Daphne’s mother bursts into the studio, all sharp angles and jarring movements. I know it’s her mom because she looks like an older version of Daphne except harsher. Her tank top is stained, and she boldly chooses not to wear a bra, with her shorts riding up with every hurried step. The disdainful looks from everyone else in the room could probably cut glass.
“Sorry, Mom,” Daphne mumbles, not making eye contact with anyone as said mom yanks her away. She glances at me for a fraction of a second.I see something there—fear, embarrassment—before she turns away, leaving me in the wake of her departure.
“Bye, Alex,” she murmurs, so quietly it’s almost lost amidst the discordant clatter of her harp case snapping shut.
Standing there, abandoned in the middle of the room, the weight of her gaze—or the lack thereof—settles over me.She didn’t even say goodbye properly, I think, the hurt a living thing in my chest. It must be because of her mom, because of me.
I’m the loser who got saved by the girl, only to be left behind again. Daphne probably didn’t want her mother to see her wasting time with someone like me. And why would she? I’m the nerd with shattered glasses, the guy people love to hate.
I mean, I am literally standing in the middle of the room with cracked glasses and ripped jeans. Not to be cool, but as a result of falling to the sidewalk earlier.
“Are you alright?” Celeste asks, but the question feels distant, detached from the raw ache that’s constricting around my heart. I nod, not trusting my voice, and turn to leave. The image of Daphne’s retreating back etches into my memory.
“See you around, Whitmore,” Celeste calls out, her words coated with syrupy faux sweetness that makes my stomach churn. Last week, I heard her tell Victoria that I should lose ten pounds. Not exactly a thing a guy with low self-esteem wantsto hear.
“Sure,” I manage.
Once outside, the evening air does nothing to ease the tightness in my chest. My feet carry me away, each step echoing with the brutal cadence of my thoughts:You’re not good enough. Never were, never will be.
Never enough.
And as the distance grows between me and the institute, between me and Daphne, I can’t help but wonder if things might have been different if I weren’t me. If maybe, just maybe, I could strip away this dweeb skin and be someone worth noticing.
Yet, deep down, I know it’s not about the glasses or the hair, or even the bullies. It’s about the gaping void inside me, the one that swallows joy and leaves only echoes of what could have been. It’s about the despair that holds me tighter than any embrace ever could.
“Alex, you okay?” Victoria asks as she catches up, her concern barely piercing the fog.
“Fine,” I lie, the word tasting like ash in my mouth. Because I am not fine. I am never fine. It’s all I’ll ever have.
As we walk home together, I sink further into my private darkness, haunted by the thought of Daphne’s fleeting touch, the softness of her voice, and the crushing reality of my insignificance.
Clutching my bent glasses, I watch Daphne’s retreating figure. She and her mom are crossing the street, headed towards a rust bucket of a car. There’s no way shelives within walking distance. Rent around here is a few thousand. My guess is she lives across town, at the public school.
“Can you believe her?” Victoria’s voice cuts through the silence. She strides beside me, her brown eyes flashing with a familiar scorn. “Making mistake after mistake, and yet they all fawn over her.”
“Who?” I ask, although I know exactly who she’s talking about, though I didn’t hear any mistakes. Only perfection.
“Daphne,” she spits out the name as if it leaves a nasty taste in her mouth. “She’s so obviously the teacher’s pet. It’s disgusting. Just because she’s poor and has some sob story, they let her get away with everything.”
I shove my hands into my pockets, trying to hide the tremors that betray my nerves. “Maybe they just see something in her,” I mumble half-heartedly, not quite ready to defend Daphne aloud.
“Something in her? Please.” Victoria scoffs, flipping her dark hair over her shoulder. “They’re blinded by pity. All this charity case does is pluck at those strings, and everyone swoons. It’s pathetic.”
I can hear the jealousy lacing her words, sharp and bitter. Part of me wants to argue that Daphne transcends her circumstances. She plays beautifully despite—or perhaps because of—the darkness in her life. But self-preservation keeps my mouth firmly shut.
“Alex, are youeven listening?” Victoria snaps, her impatience a whip crack in the quiet street.
“Sorry,” I say, the word hollow. “Just thinking.”
“About what? Don’t worry, big brother. You’re not useless, like Daphne.” Her words are meant to comfort, I think, in her own twisted way. “Come on, let’s go home.” She’s completely oblivious to the turmoil she’s stirred within me.
I follow her, nothing but a shadow trailing behind the only person who still cares enough to look back. But even then, I know it’s not concern that tethers her to me; it’s duty, a sense of obligation to our shared family.
And as we walk, I wonder if there’s anyone out there who would ever choose to stand beside me not because they have to, but because they want to. With each step, my mind sinks deeper into the dirt, the darkness dragging me back to my coffin. In a sick way, it is the one place where expectations cannot find me, cannot hurt me anymore than I am already hurting myself.
Bringing myself back to the present, I’m reminded how I’d do anything to stay out of the past. To avoid regressing into the loser kid with bullies, who felt alone andwasalone.
The darkness is always there. It didn’t magically disappear when Celeste and I started dating or when I made the football team, but at least no one talks about what a dweeb I am.