the problem with tyler

ii.

* 13 years ago*

"Bu-but, mommy!" my quiet voice wailed as I stared up at my mother with my small green eyes. "Carson, you'll be fine. go make some friends." she smiled down at me, squeezing my cheek. I looked behind me to see an older boy with a loose fitting tee shirt. I looked back to my mother with pleading eyes. she whispered into my ear as she lightly pushed me forward.

I slowly took a step forward, my foot slightly slipping under me. I was never very good at making friends. my mother had pulled me out of daycare after the continuous calls the workers made, "hi Tammy, this Lola from A to Z Daycare, calling about your daughter Carson again. today she's decided to hide under a table and is refusing to come out from under it. if you could give me a call back at this number, that'd be great. thanks."

my mother had sat me down that night at the kitchen table and made me listen to the voicemail until I could give her a reason on why I was acting so bad. "I don't like the other kids, mommy. they all try to play with me and I don't like that!" I had said and crossed my arms, sticking my lips out into a pout.

I looked up from my sand coveted shoes to see the boy with the loose tee shirt looking over at me. I looked away quickly, making a run for the swings. I plopped down onto one and began kicking my feet in a steady rhythm of out and in. I kicked higher and higher until my body was shifting backwards when my feet kicked out.

I could see the boy looking over at me as the swing lowered out of the sky. he stood on the top platform of the tower he had been playing on. his big brown eyes were wide with amazement. he slowly climbed down from the platform when he realized I had noticed him. he quickly stumbled down the ladder, his feet missing a couple of bars.

I than realized he was making his way toward me.

my feet dropped quickly to the blacktop underneath the swings and I skidded to a stop. I released my right grip against the swing and lunged forward. "Wait! don't go!" I squeezed my eyes closed and turned around to face him.

"ye-yes?" I mumbled, digging my nails into my palm. a smile appeared on his face as he slowly walked closer to me. "could you, uh, teach me how to do that?" I pointed to the swings in response to his questions. he nodded quickly and began walking toward them.

I felt my lips begin to quiver and my eyes filled with tears. I looked over to my mother who was engulfed in the book she was reading. I wanted to run to her and beg for her to take me home. I didn't understand how she could expect me to socialize with another kid, yet alone a boy.

"are you going to teach me how to swing or not?" the boy shouted from the swings. I managed to pick my feet up and drag the rest of my body to him. "yo-you don't know how to swing?" I asked him, barely able to get the words out of my mouth.

I went to the swing next to him and sat down. "my name's tyler. what's yours?" he glanced over at me before he relaxed in his swing. "I-I-I'm Carson." I responded, watching his eyebrows burrow in. he of course had the same reaction has everyone else.

I began kicking my feet in and out, my body began rising farther off the ground. "I don't understand how you do that!" his voice was full of enthusiasm and amusement as he attempted to replicate my movements. Tyler's body had barely moved off the ground, and he groaned in anger.

"I DONT UNDERSTAND HOW TO DO THIS!" he jumped off the swing, his voice filling the park. my mother had looked up from her book and frowned in our direction. His mother came running in our direction, a small baby girl was held gently against her body. "Tyler, why're you screaming?" "I can't swing!" he slammed his body to the ground and crossed his arms in a fit.

his mother glanced around nervously, noticing my mothers glare. "tyler, people are staring." she tightly grabbed him by his arm and picked him up off the ground. the baby in arms began to wail and I could feel the anger coming off her. "tyler, I-I-I can teach you how to swing. I was trying to." I tried to say but his mother had cut my voice out with her yelling and the baby's cries.

"you're not going to your hockey game if you contuine this behavior. do you understand me?" Tyler's eyes widened in shock. his lower lip began to quiver and he started to cry. "Mom, you can't do that!" his mothers grip on his arm tightened and he cried out in pain. he managed to pull away, but there was a red scratch along his arm.

tyler stumbled back over to the swings, tears forming in his eyes. "I hate her. I hate her. I hate her." he mumbled, his voice barely audible. "Ty-Tyler?" I jumped off the swing and walked toward him. he sat down in the edge of the blacktop and began burying is feet into the sand. I sat down next to him and looked up at him. I moved my eyes down to his arm where the red scratch was clearly visible. "Ar-are you okay, Tyler?" he looked at me, wiping away the tears with the back of his hands.

"she didn't do it on purpose." tyler responded, rubbing his arm were the scratch was. I looked down at my shoes, my voice had vanished from me. "don't tell anyone! please! if they knew I was crying, they'd laugh at me!" tyler pleaded, grabbing lightly onto my arm. "please." I could see the tears starting to form in his brown eyes.

"I won't." I responded, quickly looking away from his stare. he pulled his knees into his chest and began to sob.