I'll Make You Feel Beautiful Once Again

If I told you that I was excited for my sophomore year in highschool, I would be lying to you. Straight through my slightly crooked teeth. Most of the kids that go to my school are completely ecstatic to go back. They could see their friends, go to parties and football games, get good grades, smoke weed, have sex, and all that bullshit. I wasn’t buying any of that. Even as I walked through the front doors of this hell hole, the atmosphere was just drowning me in false hope. The only thing that was giving me the fuel to get out of my bed in the morning to learn, was that I didn’t have to stand outside in the fucking heat, helping my dad paint houses for his stupid business. Don’t get me wrong, I love my dad and that his company helps put food on the table and clothes on our backs. It’s just the thought of getting horrid tanlines and sweating all of the water out of my body until I died of dehydration was not at all appealing to me.

And don’t ask me the same old questions. Aren’t you excited to see your friends? Yeah, if I had any. Aren’t you happy to get new school supplies? A new backpack? I guess, but the books in my backpack were fucking heavy and if I had this thing on my back for any longer I think my spine will split in half. But seriously, fuck this shit, I don’t want to go to school. Period.

To sum it up, you might think that I am one of those teenagers who doesn’t have any friends and lives a horrible family life with a fucked up past. Sometimes I wish my life was a little worse so I didn’t feel so guilty about hating it. Maybe my father abuses me. Maybe I was a lonely boy who got his heart broken by some drop dead gorgeous girl. Or possibly, a loyal family member passed away, leaving me alone and well, hopeless. My life is far from that.

I do have one friend. If that makes anything better. His name is Alex and he happened to be waiting by my locker at the moment like he does every morning. “Hey Vic,” he smiled at me as I twisted my combination into the lock. Alex was tall, taller than me that is and I’m only 5’6”, and he had straight brown hair that fell across his forehead lazily.

“Hi Alex,” I mumbled quietly, avoiding his gaze and stuffing things into my locker. Normally, I would keep to myself. You know, try to avoid any type of contact with another human being. But Alex was an exception. He understood my stand-offish attitude and he respected that I didn’t like to associate myself with anybody. He did all of the talking, so I could just walk beside him in my usual silence.

Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I allowed Alex to snatch my schedule from my hands. He scanned over it as we made our way down the hallways, dodging the rushing kids and watching the seniors torment the freshman. “We only have Chemistry and English together, which kinda sucks but that’s okay. At least we still have lunch together, right Vic?” I only nodded as Alex rambled on and on. “What’s Core Connections?” He asked me as he looked over the paper once again. I shrugged, remembering that my mom signed me up for it. “Is it like Career Cruising, over something? Or is it like... a psychology class or something?” I shrugged again as we made our way to the library so we could hang out before class started. “What if it’s one of those like, let’s be girls and share our feelings class?” Alex laughed, choosing a table in the back where we were shielded from everyone else by books. I nodded with a smile, taking in the smell of bleached paper and wood.

“I dunno, my mom signed me up for it. She didn’t really explain why,” I told him quietly, twiddling my thumbs and averting my eyes.

“Oh, okay, I see,” Alex laughed. “It’s your first class, so good luck,” he told me as he rose from the chair. The bell rang, just in time Alex, and he waved at me before walking out of the library to his first class. I sighed, pushing my chair back into the table. I kept a good grip on the strap of my backpack, pushing past the obnoxious kids trying to get to their classes and blocking out the small roar they created. I scanned my schedule every now and then to see which room this Core Connections class was in.

I stood outside of a conference room, which was right next to the principal’s office. First floor. The door was wood, with a little glass window that was blurred so I’m guessing people couldn’t see in. Core Connections was written to shitty calligraphy over the glass. I sighed, bracing myself as I turned the knob on the door. As the wood creaked, I took in the scene before me. There was a long table with five chairs on either side, and with one chair sitting at the head of the table. There were at least thirty people in this room, all of them chattering quietly. And fuck, I started to freak out. Everyone was breathing the same air as me, stealing it from me almost. My lungs felt like they were being squeezed and closed shut. I tried to breath through my nose, to get the oxygen that was needed. Soon, the room stopped spinning and my breathing became somewhat even.

Suddenly, my taller yet younger brother Mike, who was now a freshman, came walking up towards me. He was wearing his usual pissed off expression, and his short bleached hair spiked up around his head. “C’mon, bro,” he told me, leading me towards a corner in the room already filled with people. “Mama and Pops are here.”

“Mama and Pops?” I wondered and of course, my parents came into view. I will admit, I was little surprised to see them taken that I had only left the house about thirty minutes ago.

“Hi, Victor,” Mama smiled, pulling me into her short and frail frame. She placed a small kiss to my cheek. My dad looked at me too, smiling with his short frame as well and his mustache.

“What’s goin’ on?” I asked them in a hushed tone, gesturing to the other students who I now realized were with their parents too.

“You’ll see in just a second, relax,” she demanded softly. I closed my mouth and leaned against my dad, staring at the floor but not really seeing the tile. I think we all waited for another ten minutes until a tall guy with broad shoulders and dark skin walked into the room.

“Hello everybody, why don’t y’all take your seats?” He boomed, waving to the empty chairs. I chose the chair next to Mike’s while our parents stood behind us. All of the other kids followed suit, their parents standing behind them too. “My name is Mr.Williams,” the guy told us, his bald head shining and his glasses propped on his nose. He was pretty old, probably way older than my parents, and he limped slightly as he made his way to the head of the table. He sat down, sighing as the chair creaked under him. I couldn’t help but feel bad for the guy, I mean, he looked like he was on the verge of dying practically. His breathing was short and uneven, and his the whites of his eyes were tinted yellow. Shouldn’t he be retired?

“Welcome to Core Connections.” I watched him closely, taking in his clipboard, his gray stubble and the permanent frown on his face. We all nodded slowly, leaning in towards him with anticipation. It seemed like none of us knew what this class was about, I even nudged Mike a couple times and he just shrugged. “I’m not gunna explain what this class is... I’m pretty sure I’ll sugarcoat it. So, here’s a lil’ pamphlet to do the explainin’.” Mr.Williams said, throwing a pile of thin packets on the table. We all took one warily, staring at each other with judging eyes. My eyes didn’t even read past the title before I was turning towards my parents, looking at them with a confused and hurt expression on my face. Each and every one of us started complaining loudly to our parents. Our teenage voices filled the room with an annoying buzz, questioning our parents as if they had the answers.

“Mama, what the fuck is this?” Mike demanded with clenched fists.

“Michael watch your language. Don’t talk to your mother like that,” Pops scolded him while Mama just stood there. What is this? Why would they do this to me? Tears pricked at my eyes as I shook my head in disbelief. I grabbed the small rubber band around my wrists and pulled, hearing the quick snap as it smacked my skin repeatedly. I also tugged at the long sleeves on my arms embarrassingly, folding the sleeves over my fingers. This is was humiliating...

“THAT’S ENOUGH!” a loud voice suddenly shouted. My head snapped over to Mr.Williams, who was sitting at the head of the table with the same scowl on his face.The loud roar immediately died down, and our attention was on the black, belittling guy in front of us. “I will not tolerate outbursts like this in my class, you hear? You will speak when spoken to and you will raise your hand when you want to talk. I’m not havin’ that kind of bullshit here, understand?” He scolded us, each of us earning a menacing stare that could probably kill. How he got away with cursing in front of us, I have no idea. “Now, y’all are here ‘cause you’re parents want you to be, ‘cause I want you to be, ‘cause the community wants you to be.” Well, then the community can kiss my ass. “You will attend this class every day of the week, and yes that means on the weekends. Every Friday, we will travel to a small facility and you will attend class there and spend the night Friday and Saturday. Yes,” he told us calmly without even having to recieve any questions. “You will be gettin’ a grade in this class. If you don’t meet the criteria, you will fail, and I will see you again next year. Does everyone understand? Parents, do you understand?” We all nodded quietly, still a little shaken up from his loud voice and the way he stared at us with lazers. “Thank you, parents. You can leave and if you have any questions, you know how to contact me. If you haven’t finished the paperwork for your kid, email me and we will fix that.”

Mama kissed Mike and I on the top of our heads and Pa did the same, giving us reassuring smiles before exiting the door. “I’ll see you boys after school, te amo,” Mama called sadly then filed out of the door after the other parents.

“This is fucked up,” Mike whispered next to me, his fists shaking and his cheeks burning with anger. “I can’t believe they signed us up for this bullshit.” I nodded in agreement, just as pissed as he was but of course, I’m not gunna show it. I was too busy trying not to cry like a fucking two-year-old. I glanced down at the packet once again, reading over the words again like they would disappear if I stared hard enough.

Core Connections: Group Therapy for a Troubled Teen
In other words, Core Connections: Group Therapy for a Mental Fuckup