Not a Bestseller

Some Titles Don't Make Sense

I'm a difficult person to read. My actions never match my thoughts, and my thoughts don't resemble the words in my mouth. I can't explain my head because I'll never create the right words to describe my situation. Whenever I look in the mirror, I find a face different from the one I'm trying to make. 

But never. NEVER have I met a person harder to read than Julia White.

She wouldn't look at me as we trekked to her place. I had no choice but to watch my feet outwalk each other. The spirit I'd ignited in her with my previous actions? It died. With the way she hid her face underneath her dark hair, how she scanned the abandoned road ahead, I recognized avoidance.

Julia stopped. I squinted up to find myself in front of her doorway as she stuck her key in the lock.

"Um...Julia..."

What was I doing? Why was I going into the house of a therapist? I searched Tiny Person, finding a blank canvas.

Wait...You're being bribed.

No, not bribed. Hustled. Blackmailed. Strangled. This was not my first choice. Still, most dads weren't thrilled when their girls came home with strange dudes after walking through an abandoned alley. And I was considered a juvenile delinquent. I was oh-for-two. More like oh-for-two-thousand.

She ignored me and opened the door, leaving me no choice but to trail behind her.

"Hey, Dad." Julia dropped a bag on the floor. I hadn't noticed it in her hand.

I need to start paying attention. I can't even tell you what Julia's house looked like. Three facts I remembered: Julia White's house was clean, filled with books, and smelled like candles. I wish I had been paying attention. I would've seen the photo-frame on the wall with-

"Julia!" Dr. White's distant voice closed in when he stepped around the corner of an ocean-blue kitchen island. "I hope you're hungry. I've got a plate full of my home-made pancakes with your name on them."

"Ahem."

Julia sidestepped until nothing stood between me and the psychologist man.

Let me \break the fourth wall, as my dear friend, Austin, has urged me not to. Remember that analogy I made about being stuck doing something you hate with someone you hate? This has nothing to do with that.

What are you afraid of? Think about seeing it, or feeling it, or whatever. Your pulse rises. The moment lasts a lifetime. You're filled with more fear than a kid sucked into a board game. You feel rocks travel down your throat. Your eyes are pulled open until they can't close again.

This moment? It keeps dragging on.

I found myself as the hero against a hideous monster when I stared into Doctor White's eyes.

Doctor White geared into crazy-town. His face broke into a grin. "Well, would you look at that?" He extended his hand toward me. When I didn't take it, he patted me on the shoulder. "Long time, no seek."

"Petrification" seems like the appropriate word to describe my physical state.

Dr. White wheeled for the other side of the kitchen island, reaching for three glass plates with Gandhi phrases on them. "I'd take it you're joining us for breakfast?" he asked.

"Apparently."

"Good. Grab a plate and stack 'em up. We've got plenty to go around."

His speech came straight from a Greaser in the eighties. Was he messing with me?

Before I could confirm any of this, he walked away. Julia went behind him, and I imitated. Once we had pancakes on our plates, we sat around a table. I didn't think today was a holiday, but I could've been mistaken. Why else would they sit at a table to enjoy a meal together like this? The only reason I'd ever done that was either to bribe my parents or celebrate a national holiday we couldn't wiggle out of.