We've Learned to Run from Anything Uncomfortable

Friday, May 20th

I woke up this morning in an especially bad mood, unaware of the fact that Ryan was occupying the bathroom. I threw the door open to brush my teeth and got a harsh yelling at.

Ryan was furious with me for not knocking. I counter argued and told him to keep the god damn door locked.

Which resulted in a harsh smack across the face from Lucy, throwing me off balance, hurtling down the stairs, my face meeting the end table next to the front door.

Which resulted in the black eye and cut down the left side of my face.

Which resulted in another conversation with the all too wonderful, Oliver.

Today, he met me outside of the station wagon.

Furious and embarrassed, I ignored him as he tried talking to me. He uttered a 'Good morning' several times before we opened the double doors to the high school and I finally turned to him, answering him.

"Hello Oliver. Good morning!" I said, slightly irritated.

"Tha's a wicked lookin' cut, where'd ya get tha'?" He asked, reaching out one of his abnormally long fingers to touch my face.

"Don't touch me!" I muttered, "I fell down my stairs."

He snorted a bit, "Ya fell down yer stairs?"

"Yes!"

"You betta not be tellin' anyone tha'. They might think your some kinda twit." He smiled.

"I am not a twit." I mumbled, "I was pushed down the stairs."

"Oi! That makes all the difference!" He laughed.

"You're not making my morning any better."

“Well, I’m sorreh.” He said, the laugh still in his voice.

I mumbled an incoherent ‘fuck you’ before simply walking away. Oli was on the fast track to pissing me off and today was not the day for it. I silently thanked him for not following me as I made my way to library. It was the only place people were forced to be quiet, and that was somewhere I needed to be.

I needed to be away from Oli, away from someone who I could potentially spill all of my secrets that I’d spent the last nine years hiding.

I needed to be alone. Where I could think and ponder my thoughts, by myself.

I found a nice spot away from the library windows and curled up in one of the big, fluffy chairs with my bag in my lap. I snapped open my bag and pulled out one of my notebooks where I had started a small list of things that I needed to change.

-Stop being a bitch
-Talk more
-Quit lying

I looked at these three simple things and realized that I had turned into a horrible person since I hit the ripe age of thirteen. Keeping myself closed up and lying to people was only way I could get away with all the shit I was pulling, because I was pissed off that my life wasn’t like everyone else’s.

It always seemed like everyone had it easy. They had their parents, they had brothers and sisters, they got iPods, cell phones, and lap tops for Christmas while I got stuck with impersonalized gifts like hand -me-down sweaters and shoes that were too big or too small.

Its not like I expected fancy, expensive gifts, but it’d be nice one year, just one time, if I got something that was picked out for me personally. Like a nice notebook with some pens, or a used CD that I had been trying to get my hands on. Sure, I’d have no player to listen to it with, but it’d be nice just to have it.

I rested my head on the side of the chair, closing my eyes and listening to the quiet sounds of the library.

Clicking of keys made their way into my mind, a signal that there was probably some big paper due that I had forgotten to finish. Pages to books were being turned slowly by kids who couldn’t get enough of their fictional lives. And pencils were scribbling mindlessly over lined paper, attempting to get every thought onto paper perfectly, lulling me to sleep.

“Come on Sam! Open it!” My dad ushered, pointing to the big, paper covered box underneath the Christmas tree.

My mother got in my face with the cam corder, the red dot signaling it was on burning into my eyes, “Mommy. Get that thing outta my face!” I mumbled, rolling off the couch and making my way to the Christmas tree.

I grasped the big box between my too small arms and pulled it out from under the tree. I set it in the middle of the floor and walked three circles around it. I tapped it a couple times, rolled it onto its side and attempted at shaking the heavy box before I turned to my father, who had a grin spread across his face like butter.

“Daddy!” I yelled, “What is it? Huh? Tell me, tell me!”

“You have to open it, Sweet heart. There is no point in me telling you what it is. That’s why its all wrapped up in paper.”

I looked towards my mother who was taking a sip of her coffee. A light chuckle escaped from her mouth as she shook her head at me.

“Okay!” I announced, “I’m going to open it now!”

I jumped on top of the box, tearing at the tape on the side of it and pulling it back, throwing myself at the ground. I landed hard on my bum and quickly jumped back up, continuing to attack the large box as if it were trying to eat me. Seconds later, I sat next to the big, brown box, panting heavily.

“It’s just a stupid old box.” I said, frowning.

“You have to open the box.” My dad said, pointing towards the folded flaps.

I quickly pulled back two of the flaps and looked down into a box of Styrofoam popcorn. I pulled it out in handfuls, hurtling it across the room in a hurry to find out what awaited me inside this box.

I saw the corner of something pink and grabbed it, pulling out a car made for holding Barbies.

“Ooh, a car!” I smiled, but upon realizing the fact I had no Barbies, my smile faltered, “I have no Barbies.”

“Keep digging.” My mom grinned.

A book was thrown harshly onto the table in front of me, throwing me back into present life. But, I didn’t have to stay asleep to know that I had gotten three Barbie dolls and a surprise puppy for Christmas that year.

I looked up to see the owner of a book. A small freshman girl with long blonde hair cascading down her back, alarmed brown eyes and a small mouth.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you up.” She said quietly.

I yawned lightly and stretched, “No worries. Do you know what period it is?”

“I think its fourth.”

“Oh fuck.” I mumbled, reaching for my bag and its contents which had found their way onto the floor while I was sleeping.

Fourth period meant the end of the day.

The end of the day meant that I slept through all my morning classes and I missed a History test.

I quickly scrambled to my feet and scurried out of the library, making it to room 108, where I had first come in contact with Oliver.

I sheepishly made my way into the room, taking my seat near the back of the room.

“Oliver Sykes..” Mrs. Rant mumbled, “You’re here. And.. Sam! Its nice to see you here today. Where were you at?”

“Um, I fell asleep.”

“So, you were late to class?”

“Um, yeah..” I said, scratching the back of my head.

“Okay..” She said quietly, making a mark on her sheet.

Great. Three missed classes and a tardy all in one day. That’s just fucking wonderful. I rested my head on the desk before sighing unnecessarily loud. I looked up to see if anyone had noticed, but the only attention I had turned towards me was Oli’s.

He smirked lightly and waved at me. I waved back and turned my head towards Mrs. Rant who had started speaking again.

“Okay guys! You need to go get a textbook from the shelf and write a short story from the second prompt on page 349. Once you’re finished, trade papers with someone and see what the two of you managed to come up with! It has to be 700 words!”

I stood up and shuffled mindlessly to the shelf where I picked up my book. I set it on my desk, pulled out 3 sheets of paper and a pencil. I turned to page 349 and scanned the page for prompt two.

I sat on the edge of my step in front of my door, imagining what the red brick house across the street from me looked like on the inside

I rolled my eyes slightly as I began my piece. 30 minutes later, I had a page full of rambling and a grinning Oli sitting in front of me.

“You gonna be my partner?” He asked.

“Are you done laughing at me?”

"For righ' now, yeah. But I can' make promises."

"Well, that's fair enough." I said, grinning at his honesty and trading him papers.

He handed me a piece of paper with his name written at the top of it.

"Oli. There is nothing written on here."

"Shh." He said, raising one finger in the air, "I'm readin'."

I rolled my eyes slightly and busied myself by doodling on his blank piece of notebook paper.

Shortly after I finished drawing a flying pig taking bites out of a cloud, Oli slammed my paper down and let a laugh out of his mouth.

Boy, was his laugh really starting to irritate me today.

"What?" I asked.

"Tha' was 'orrible! Yeh made that lil' boy sound like some kinda arse talkin' 'bout the inside of tha' 'ouse like tha'!"

"Well!" I smiled, at least I actually wrote something!"

"I did write somethin' yeh jus' ain' lookin' hard enough!"

I grabbed the paper roughly and flipped it over where a few very small sentences were scrawled out in tiny letters.

"i'm sorry for laughing at you. i read your damn book and i'm only gonna ask one more time, will you please hang out with me tomorrow?"

I finished reading and looked up to see a hopeful smile slapped across Oli's face.

"I figured if maybeh I wrote it, yer answer migh' change."

He scribbled his number on the bottom of the paper as the bell rang.

Getting up, he said, "I'll keep meh phone close by tonigh'!"

-----------------

It was 8 o’clock at night. I had finally gotten the phone 10 minutes ago and my finger hovered over the talk button, daring me to press it.
I finally dug up the nerve and brought the phone to my ear.

Two rings sounded and Oli's voice answered, "'Ello?"

"Oli?" I breathed.

"Oi! This ain' Sam, is it?" He chuckled.

"Yeah, I'm calling you cause I wanna hang out tomorrow."

"Oh, yeh do now?"

"Yes." I gulped.

"Well, alrigh'. Yeh got an address?"

I rambled off my address scribbled on a small piece of paper, which I had gotten from Lucy.

"Okay. I'll pick yeh up tomorrow after I get up." He said, hanging up on me.

I looked down at the phone and pushed the off button. He sure was weird. Tomorrow after he woke up... Well that gave me quite a while to get up and get dressed.

A smile crept onto my face, but was quickly swiped away as I realized I had to find a way out of the house tomorrow without Lucy and Robert harassing poor Oliver.

"Sam! You done with the phone?" One of the younger kids elementary-sized kids asked, walking into my room with his hand out.

I placed the phone in his palm, "There!"

"Thanks Sam!" He smiled.

"No problem." I said, watching him leave the room.

I, for the life of me, could not remember his name.

But, it starts to get hard, remembering names and people when you move around so much.

I've learned not to think much of it. It's easier just to forget.