Untitled For Now

❤   .C.h.a.p.t.e.r.T.w.o.   ❤1

A couple months passed by and school began. It took a month for me to really get used to all the new people. Sometimes I thought I people I knew from my old school, but then realizing they weren’t up in Maine. They said I was lucky to be here, but they were really the lucky ones. 2

The people here, some of them, weren’t as bad as I’d assumed. Thankfully I made a few friends too. My parents believe that I’m really happy up here, but I’m only a little happy. I’d rather be in Massachusetts, but I know I can’t go back until I’m 18 or so, so I’ve learned to deal with it. I just tell myself everyday, just one more day. Those days add up. I’ve been here almost half a year.  It’s November and everything is totally different. I changed myself so people would like me. I was disappointed in myself for giving in to them.3

I sat in my last class before Thanksgiving break. A guy that I had a crush on sat two seats in front of me doodled someone else’s name on his paper. I knew that, when I started liking guys, that it would suck. The thing he said was that I wasn’t pretty enough for him. He wanted someone who was a total sleaze, I guess. Oh well, there’s other fish in the sea, but maybe not in Maine. 4

I still liked him even though he hated me, and I wasn’t to happy about that. Jake was his name. When I was bored I’d write Addie and Jake all over my paper, only to realize I was an idiot and scribble it out.5

The bell rang loudly and I picked up my bag and left. My bus drove me home and I let myself in the house we were renting. My parents were working and Keri and John still had school. They got out at three, I got out at two. It worked out very nicely if you ask me. 6

I tossed my bag on my bed and cleaned up the small mess that had accumulated on the floor near my desk. My sister’s side of the room was just one big heap of mess. Yes, I now had to share a room with her since even three bedrooms was pushing it up here. There was no chance of getting my own room unless we moved into a hotel and each of us had a room there. 7

The computer was already on so I checked my e-mail. Seth had sent me a message, and I told him how everything was so boring up here, and he told me some great news when he wrote back. He’d convinced my parents to let me go stay with him for the long weekend.8

The rest of the day was spent packing my bag to go stay with him. I was really excited because I hadn’t been home since I moved. 9

When I woke up the next morning I heard his car pull into the driveway. I grabbed my stuff, said goodbye to my family and left. We listened to screamo music all the way down and both had major headaches from singing, or screaming, along. 10

He helped me set my stuff up in the living room and then we went to the movies, since there were no skateparks open and we had no energy to skate anyway. The theater was packed, since it was a holiday, but we managed to get into the movie we wanted to see. It was a horror movie, my favorite kind, and it was really good. Some parts were a bit disturbing, but aside from that I got the thrill of suspense that it was supposed to send to the viewers.11

After the movie it was dark out, so we ordered Chinese and went back to his apartment. We sat on the living room floor, ate dinner, and watched the Blue Collar Comedy tour. My favorite comedian was, by far, Larry The Cable Guy. He was so funny, it was hard to believe some people thought he wasn’t.12

The next morning it snowed, hard. Seth and I drove out to the snowboard and ski resort that was about 2 hours away. We made reservations to stay until Saturday night. When we finally got to the top we were freezing from the snow and wind. He jumped off the ski lift before I did, and when I was off I was going so fast. The trail hadn’t been broken in by other boarders so it was hard to slide down the puffy snow. I almost hit a few trees because I wasn’t concentrating on surviving the trip down, I was focused on something completely random and unknown to even me.13

When I met him at the bottom it was dark, since the ski lift took forever to get to the top of the mountain and we’d arrived in the early afternoon. 14

We walked back to our room and I called my parents to say hello while he took a quick shower. He finished and laid down on his bed and turned on the TV. I took a shower and then joined him in watching Punk’d. 15

At near midnight we turned out the lights and fell asleep. The next morning we were up bright and early and snowboarded all day.16

Around three o clock we had to head back to his house because he was driving me back to Maine on Sunday morning. It was cold outside, and there was nothing to do when we got back. We sat at his kitchen table and had warm cappuccino.17

“Another five hour drive for you tomorrow. How’s that feel?” He asked.18

“I’m used to it by now. Everything is far away up there. It takes half an hour to get to the grocery store. Food shopping is, like, an all day affair.” I replied.19

“Ouch! That sucks. Now that it’s winter there must be even less to do because who really wants to go to the ocean in the freezing, snowy weather?”20

“There never was anything to do. The ocean gets boring after a while when you’re self conscious about those hicks labeling you a slut because you wore a bikini top and surf shorts instead of a full body scuba suit.”21

“They do that?”22

“No. I was exaggerating. They’re anything but prude up there. Impregnating their relatives and all.”23

Seth laughed at that, and so did I. I hadn’t laughed in ages, well, since I’d last seen him a few months ago. Laughing felt good. People told me that laughing was a stress reliever, and I believed it a hundred and ten percent. Then again, other people say that crying is a stress reliever, and I agree with that just as much.24

The only reason I didn’t enjoy crying as much as I did laughing was, I guess, because crying was embarrassing. I never let myself cry. I hadn’t shed a tear since I was eight or nine, and when I left Seth, and even that was pushing it. 25

“I don’t want to go back tomorrow,” I sighed.26

“I don’t want you to go back ever!”27

Saying that, he made me smile, on the inside and out. So far the only time I’ve smiled or laughed since I moved was when I was with him right now. I didn’t smile at home. I lied and said everything was just fine. I didn’t smile at school because I just felt trapped amongst people I didn’t like. I lied to the people at school too, they thought I was just fine. At church, when we went, I couldn’t smile because I was too pissed off at the fact that I was awake that early on a weekend. I wasn’t a happy person like before, and no one knew.28

“Seth, if I tell you this, will you promise not to pass it along?” I asked, wanting to tell him how depressed I was.29

“I’ll keep any secret of yours unless you’re planning to kill yourself, then label me the local newsboy I’m blabbing to everyone.”30

“I’m not going to kill myself. I promise, but I can’t stand Maine. Honestly. I have to lie to everyone and tell them everything’s okay or they flip out saying I’m totally ungrateful or whatever. I’m not happy there. I hate it. My ‘friends’ don’t know the real me. The one you’ve always known. My parents think I’m just going through this little phase where everything I wear is black and everything I listen to, read, or watch has to do with the art of dying. I don’t know what to do.”31

“Addie, just tell them the truth. Say you hate it. They’ll understand.”32

“I tried. My dad yelled at me. Said I’m never happy with anything. My mom took his side.”33

“Well, I’m on your side. Always.”34

He put his arms around me and I cried. I didn’t want to, but I knew he wouldn’t make fun of me for showing weakness and spilling tears all over his black “The Clash” T-shirt. He was the only one I felt I could trust anymore. My parents betrayed me, my old friends, except him, had all forgotten me, and my new friends liked the other side of me. 35

When I was done crying he told me I shouldn’t worry about what people are going to say and just tell them the truth. Easier said than done. 36

At nine I was really tired and decided I would get some sleep. He walked away into his own room, but not before hugging me and kissing me on the cheek. Sometimes I wished I could more than just his friend, but I knew it wasn’t exactly legal. He was 19 and I was 14, an adult and a minor. That law was totally unfair. I never had a boyfriend, and Seth might have the potential to fill that position, and the stupid government makes a law saying I can’t date him until I’m 18. Things might change by then. I didn’t want things to change, and I didn’t want to wait. On second thought, though, there was always the option of breaking that unfair law.37

The next morning we packed up my stuff and started on our way to Maine. We got real breakfast at a local diner first, though, and it was really fun. Like I keep having to say, I love being with him. 38

On the way back to my parents’ residence we made jokes and listened to music. Every time we drove together we ended up with raw throats, inability to talk right, and a headache, but they were all consequences of a good time. 39

My parents were inside when we got there, and we went in and all of us talked for a little while. Sadly, Seth had to leave and go to work the next morning. I hated to see him go, and once he pulled out of the driveway and was out of sight I felt all my hatred and anger come bubbling back to the top.40

I told them how much fun I had NOT being in Maine and then I went upstairs to the disgusting room I had to share with Keri. She was on her side staring at my TV, which was off. She dared not touch my stuff, because I wasn’t nice anymore. I used to be, I used to let them use anything of mine. Now it’s different. Much, much different. If they take my things without asking I’ll flip, and then demand it back and if they say it’s broken or lost or whatever I end up even more pissed off. It’s a never ending chain of events here. Hate, anger, sadness, emptiness, hate, anger, sadness, emptiness, and on and on.41

I laid face down on my bed and ended up falling asleep. When I woke up it was one o clock in the morning. I had to drag myself to school and I really didn’t want to go. Another day of pretending I’m someone I’m not.42

On my desk laid a little book light that hardly lit anything up other than what it was focused on. I picked it up and grabbed my notebook. It used to be a little pink diary with a lock, but I took a black marker and colored it the exact shade of my soul. I wrote songs in the little book, and no one could ever get them because I kept the key hidden where no one can get it unless they violate me. It’s on a chain around my neck, but it hangs down to my chest.. 43

I scribbled song lyrics onto a new page and I erased them over and over until I got them the way I wanted. By two thirty I had two songs and hand cramps. My eyes burned from staring down at the paper in the dim light, and I ended up falling asleep again.44

“Addie? Addie, wake up,” My mom walked in the room and flickered the lights. It was still dark out at six in the early morning, so it was obvious when they were on and off. 45

Keri was already awake and dressed and she didn’t have to go to school for an hour after I did. I shut the door by jamming an old sock in between the door and the wall. There was no doorknob, I guess some people haven’t mastered the art of turning a round handle and pushing/pulling. Our house was a rental, eventually we’d move to a new torture chamber. A new place for me to hate with my entire black heart. 46

I flipped the switch and turned my mirror lights on and dragged out my make-up and my straightening iron. I did my daily artwork and then burnt my hair until it was pencil straight. I wished I didn’t take the black dye out of it, and I planned to buy a new color. Something crazy. Bright pink, maybe. Before I had black I had lots of other colors. My total so far is thirteen dye jobs. I know my natural color is blonde though, because it always comes back that way. 47

There was nothing worth wearing in my closet so I dug through my drawers, which held all my old stuff. I took out the pair of black pants I shredded on the last day of school last year. They were even more shredded from skateboard bails and looked totally hardcore. I searched for a t-shirt and found a black sweatshirt that I’d stolen from Seth last Christmas. It said “the Transplants” on it and it smelled like him. I put it on and then I put on my black boots. I would have been all black except for the lime green laces in my boots. Ah, sweet normality.48

My bag was in the corner with all my school crap in it. I picked it up and walked downstairs, not expecting any confrontation.49

“Addie! What are you wearing? I thought you were going to turn over a new leaf and be normal.” My mom gasped.50

“I didn’t like that new leaf. I guess when I was myself and not hiding behind the person you, and everyone else, want me to be,” I explained. “I was so much happier when you didn’t make me care about what other people thought. I never did before. Everything was great because you weren’t paranoid that these rednecks would question your parenting skills when they find out that you have a punk daughter. Here’s a newsflash. If you didn’t want to worry about what they thought you could have just stayed down in Mass. Where I could stay the same, and people never cared that I was this way. It seems that you’re the only one who this really matters to.” 51

I glanced out the window and saw the bus coming down the road. “Bye.” I said as I pushed  the door open.52

No one spared anymore than the usual glance as I sat down in my seat, my face red with leftover anger and frustration. Still, no one cared enough to ask why. It didn’t matter, because I wasn’t willing to tell. 53

When I got to school I walked down to the library and talked to the people who were my other side’s friends. They asked what was going on, and I told them a shorter version of the story.  They nodded and said they understood, they probably didn’t, but they stayed friends with me either way.54

I made my way to first period, honors History, I didn’t care about that class. Everyone, especially the idiot teacher, knew that. I was failing with a 42% average, I knew why too. I didn’t do my work, and I refused to read Robinson Crusoe and the Tale Of Two Cities. In fact, I put them under my bed and let them collect dust. Mr. Lennon didn’t know about that, but I made it clear that I didn’t read them. 55

He asked if I’d written my paper on whatever it was he’d been talking about last class. I chuckled and shook my head, not bothering to waste any breath on a “hell no!” 56

He ran his hand down his balding head. “What am I going to do about this work problem you seem to have?”57

“Don’t know, don’t care,” I mumbled under my breath.58

“Excuse me?”59

“Hey you asked. I answered with a perfectly honest answer. People say honesty is the best way to go.”60

He walked away and a point went up on the scoreboard in my head. He never won when it came to tormenting me. No one could. I always had a snappy, evil comeback for everyone, no matter how much I loved them. As for Mr. Lennon, I didn’t like him one bit, he deserved every poke on the voodoo doll I made. 61