Just Impolite

Eliza, my sister, stayed with me at my parent’s house while my parents were at work. She lived about thirty minutes away with her husband. Both of them work at his family restaurant. Their life seemed so perfect. I wanted it so badly.

“I think you should get a therapist,” my sister said meekly, “No offense or anything, but I think you should take some psychotherapy.”

My eye twitched, but I couldn’t help but agree to her a little. I mean I wasn’t mental enough to be asylum-material, right? Maybe I’m mental enough to need someone to just talk to, but not enough to need a therapist… nonetheless be considered a psycho.

“No, I don’t,” I argued, “I just need a person who’ll listen.”

“Mom and I listen to you plenty,” she replied, “Be-“

“You guys argue with me though.”

She rubbed her temple, “We’re only trying to mediate things.”

I ran my hand through my tangled mink-black hair. Eliza just doesn’t get that I need to vent to let my feelings out. They’re always so bottled up and makes me just want to explode! That’s why I cry at night, out of frustration. Honesty I give myself headaches. Why can’t I be a normal person and not cry about these small emotions?

“You’re still such a baby,” she teased as she pinched my cheeks, “And I’m still telling you to go out with Dave.”

I scoffed and went to my room and laid on my bed. I looked at my cell phone. There was one new message. I flipped my phone open and listened to it.

“Hey. Uh, it’s Ryan. I called back because I said I would. So call back or something, bye.”

I smiled and played the message over again. Don’t call me an obsessed freak, it was just cute. But anyways, I called back and let it ring.

“Hello?”

“Hey, you called?”

He coughed, “Yeah, I did. I was wondering if you’d like to hang out and just talk.”

My mouth formed a grin as big as a slice of watermelon, but my head seemed to wonder about. Is he asking me out as friends or asking me out as something else? I question that because I know there is a small chemistry between us.

“Sure, anytime you’re available. I’m free just about everyday now,” I said as I ruffled my hair.

“Really? Then let’s go to the park that’s next to Starbuck’s and Border’s right now,” he replied.

My eyes opened a bit, “Right now?”

“Right now,” he confirmed, “Time’s wasting as we speak, Amelie, let’s go. Bye.”

As I opened my mouth to say bye, he hung up. I couldn’t help but ask myself why he was in such a rush. I shrugged it off my shoulder and changed my clothes because I was in my pajamas. Honestly I threw on whatever was in the closet, which was a white v-neck tee, black jeans, and a red American Apparel hoodie. It was simple enough to look like I didn’t care too much, but I didn’t care too little.

“Where are you going?” my sister asked me as I jogged down the stairs.

I tucked my phone into my back pocket, “To see a friend, and don’t go all paranoid on me, I’m bringing my phone with me.”

She went back to watching something on TV as I opened the door and locked it with my keys.

My neighborhood had changed since I moved out, which was just last year when I ended high school. The road’s marks got repainted and they had new signs. There were also more kids than I remembered and the sidewalk had a few more cracks. I kicked the tan bark that was on the sidewalk.

Sometimes I wish I lived in California because not all of it was a huge desert, and there were more animals and plants. The sky was probably bluer and the people where happier. Maybe I should get out of here and run away to lovely California.

I arrived at the park, but I didn’t really know where to meet Ryan, so I looked around to just to see if he was there yet. There were children running around playing on the playground and tire swings while their mothers watched while chatting about what their little angel accomplished this week.

As soon as I saw Ryan, my phone was ringing. He was on the phone, and I looked at my phone to see his number. He’s such a dork because I’m right in front of him, but he’s looking around like a madman.

“Howdy,” I answered my phone.

He used his free hand to put it over his eyebrows, like a sailor would, “Are you at the park yet?”

I giggled, “Look straight ahead, blind man.”