Tales From Another Broken Home

The rest of the weekend passed by like any other ordinary weekend would have. I got up at nine every day, at my normal whole-grain cereal with 2% milk for breakfast, took a walk around the block, then a shower, worked on homework and studied until lunch, then messed around with a few various projects of mine, then ate dinner with my family, watched TV after, then went to bed.

Dinner was always the same monotonous ritual.

“So how is school going, honey?” my mother would always ask sweetly, sipping on a glass of ice water that she always had to go with her meal.

“It's going well,” I would always reply, followed by something like “We have a paper to write in English about Hamlet, but I don’t really mind - you know I love Shakespeare,” or “I like my algebra teacher at this school better - she explains things more thoroughly.”

My mother would then nod, saying some generic response, then would ask my father how work was going. The conversation really wouldn’t progress further, he would talk about typical work things, she would listen, adding in the appropriate comments at the appropriate times, and I would sit at the end, chewing my food quietly, listening to my parents talk. Honestly, at the time, I really didn’t mind, this was usual for me, and I didn’t think it really ever went any other way than this. I had been surrounded and brainwashed by this normality for far too long - it had seeped through my pores and I oozed the very essence of it. I was a completely normal girl.

That Sunday night, as I lied in bed waiting for sleep to pass over me, I found that for some reason, I couldn’t get my mind to shut down. I normally had absolutely no trouble at all trying to sleep, but tonight was a completely different case.

I rolled over and glanced over the LED clock sitting beside me. “1:24,” the white-blue numbers read. I sighed and rolled back over, staring up at my ceiling. I folded my hands over my stomach, and took in a deep breath, trying to relax myself, and concentrate just on taking in slow breaths.

It didn’t really help.

The gears in my mind just kept turning, and I absolutely couldn’t stop thinking. I wondered what would happen when I went back to school tomorrow, and if Jimmy would be there. Would he say something to me? Would he even acknowledge me?

I lied there, worrying, playing over scenarios in my mind of what he could possibly do, or say, and thinking of how I could react. I knew I had become completely lost in my thoughts when I glanced over again at the clock and saw that it flashed “3:43.”

“Crap,” I whispered, angry that I had stayed up so late. I never usually did this, and I knew it would completely throw me off and make me overtired for school tomorrow. I flipped around and fluffed up my pillows, hoping it would make me comfortable enough so that I’d be able to drift off into dreamland. I squished my cheek into the feathers, and closed my eyes. After a couple of minutes, I was finally granted sleep.

--

He wasn’t there.

I had spent the entire day anxiously awaiting the possible encounter between us, but he wasn’t here today. I was disappointed, not only in the fact that he wasn’t here, but because I was so fixed on this the entire day. Why had I even wanted him here? It's not as if I wanted to be friends with him; he was just an unattractive delinquent smoker who probably wasn’t even going anywhere in life with stupid tattoos and spiky hair. I groaned inwardly and put my forehead on the cool chemistry desk as I waited for the last starting bell to ring.

I had even looked for him in gym, justifying his absence with notions of “Oh, he probably just isn’t showing up because he doesn’t wanna run, or deal with the teacher,” or “He probably considers it too much of a hassle or something,” yet I couldn’t help glancing at the closed door from time to time.

I heard the bell ring and a couple seconds later, the clicks of my teacher’s wedges notified me of her entering the room to teach the lesson. I sluggishly got out my notebook - I felt so tired all of a sudden - and started copying what she had on the board.

The rest of the lesson progressed just like that: notes. We barely finished just in time for the end bell, leaving me straggling to collect up all my books to make it to the buses on time, (seeing as juniors weren’t allowed to drive.)

When I got home, my mom was waiting for me in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of her signature chai tea.

“How was school, honey?” she asked, glancing up from the book she was reading.

‘Oh, fine,” I said offhandedly, setting my backpack down by the door. “I’m a bit tired though, I think I’m going to go get a cup of coffee before I start my homework so I can concentrate, kay?”

“Alright,” she said, taking another sip out of her mug.

“Do you want anything?” I asked.

“No thank you, I have my tea,” she said with a small smile, and I grabbed my keys.

I decided that I didn’t feel like drinking my coffee in the shop or at home, so I drove around for a bit, looking for a possible spot where I could sit peacefully, taking small sips as I searched. I even ended up, (accidentally, of course,) passing the 7-11 where I spotted Jimmy on Friday, but he wasn’t there. Eventually, I passed a quaint little park where, by the looks of it, nobody was at, save for a few cars sitting in the parking lot. I smiled to myself, and pulled up in the lot.

I ended up walking around the twisting trail for a few minutes, looking for the perfect spot to sit down. I wanted it to be shaded - I always loved sitting underneath the shade that the massive amounts of leaves gave. I looked up, gazing up at the greens and browns with bits of bright yellow from the sun poking out inbetween and couldn’t help but feel peaceful. Suddenly, I heard a soft rustling sound, like someone moving, and looked back down.

An overly skinny figure was shifting around on a bench off on the side of the trail, trying to look up towards me from his previous position lying down, facing the sky. He stopped, recognizing me, and yanked his earbuds out of his ears.

“Well well, fancy seeing you here,” he said quietly with a smirk on his face. He propped himself up with his elbow and shoved the headphones cord into the pocket of his hoodie.

“Yeah, fancy that,” I murmured, not knowing what else to say. I realized I had stopped walking, and glanced down at my sandaled feet.

Jimmy smirked, shifting so that he was sitting upright on the bench, feet apart, and looked up at me with that slightly condescending, but so, so interesting smile that completely drew me in. I nervously fidgeted with the slip around my coffee cup, chewing on my bottom lip.

“So what brings you here to my park?” he asked, draping his arms over the top of the bench. I saw the light threw shadows over his slightly toned biceps, and I shrugged tentatively.

“I was just looking for a spot somewhere to sit, I guess,” I said, unsure, yet again, of what exactly to say to him. He was so interesting, but so hard to talk to. I suppose I just didn’t know how to interact with him. I paused for a moment, looking down at my coffee.

“What makes it your park, exactly? I mean, I’m not trying to be rude or anything, I’m just wondering.” I couldn’t seem to keep the stutter out of my voice.

He laughed, loud, bringing one arm down with him as he doubled over. I waited a couple seconds for him to gain his composure, and finally, he snapped his head up to look at me.

“I come here all the time. Why shouldn’t it be mine? Nobody else uses it anyway,” he said nonchalantly, looking up at me through half-lidded eyes.

“Oh,” I said, feeling quite awkward, standing there with my coffee, not knowing what to say. There was a silence, and I could hear the various woodsy sounds, like animals shuffling and the trees rustling through the tree leaves, coupled with the city sounds, like the occasional loud laugh or car tires squealing by.

“Are you gonna sit down, or are you gonna just stand there like a fucking retard?” Jimmy asked, a slightly abrasive tone in his voice, and I felt my face heat up with an embarrassed blush.

“I-I didn’t know I could,” I stuttered, shaking my hair in front of my face, hoping it would hide my red cheeks.

“Well, you said you came here to sit, so fucking sit,” he commanded, nodding toward the spot next to him.

I scurried over towards him, and sat down, leaving about a half a foot of space between me and him. He sighed, and started digging around in his jeans pocket, finally pulling out a Bic lighter and a box of cigarettes. I glanced down at him, noticing what was he was doing, and took an overly large gulp of coffee. He fished one out of the box, and without even looking at me, held out the box, offering me one.

“Oh, no thanks,” I said, shaking my head. He glanced over at me, and I noticed what a gorgeous color of blue-green his eyes were. It reminded me of the ocean under a blue sky.

“You owe me,” he said pointedly, referring to Friday.

“Oh,” I said, my face falling. “Well, I have coffee already, so…”

He chuckled, lighting his cigarette.

“Whatever.” He shoved his belongings back into his pocket, staring ahead into the trees, taking a long drag. Luckily, the wind was going the opposite direction of where I was sitting so I didn’t have to inhale secondhand smoke.

“I’m gonna hold you to it, you know,” he said, glancing over at me again, that signature grin playing over his lips. I nervously laughed.

“How about this,” he said, shifting his legs to face me on the bench. “You come back here, let's say, Wednesday, and I’ll be here, and you can keep your promise.” His eyes flashed with something almost malignant, maybe even with a bit of excitement, at the proposal.

I paused for a couple of moments, my eyes wide, heart racing. What should I do? I seriously doubted he was going to leave this alone, and I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted to deal with him constantly bugging and picking for me to have a cigarette with him.

At least, that’s what I justified myself with.

“Okay.”