Stress Relief

Jerseys

There was a knock on the door before an annoyingly loud creak followed and light spilled into the darkened room. A man spoke, no doubt already decked out in sportswear. "You ready to go?" The man asked.

His son raised his head weakly. Eyes squinting into thin slits, no doubt only able to make out his silhouette .

Elijah, who had just been rudely woken up from a very nice dream that he would be homeschooled for the rest of the year and not be forced to talk to people he didn't know, barely had time to fully come back from the dead. He stared at the man leaning on his door frame, and his dad's face contorted to knowing amusement.

Today was the day that he finally, much to his despair, got to go to his high school campus for his senior year.

A month late.

After being cooped up in his house for years 10 and 11 for homeschooling he decided he would spend his last year of high school getting the full experience.

Which he was starting to regret. "Sure." He barely mumbled, voice thick from sleep. It began to dawn on him what he would have to endure for eight straight months and he rubbed his face dreadfully. "J's give me like, a whole year to wake up." He attempted to block the eye-straining light from the hallway by keeping his tired eyes closed, but that only made dozing off all the more difficult to prevent.

His dad only chuckled, telling him to be down in ten. The door was left open and the annoying bright hallway light stayed on.

Just like any kid who hates school, he sat there for a few minutes. Mustering up some sanity to get him through the day. I know he said their practice was early but for God's sake this is borderline insane, he scowled at nothing before looking out his window.

Anger then brewed in him seeing the barely brightening blue sky. "The' sun's not even up yet," he whined to himself, lolling his head back like the only thing connecting it to his fatigued body was a wet noodle.

After about a minute of contemplation of why the universe would do this to him, he groaned and finally got up from his bed to grab some clothes. Dragging himself over to the dresser that sat at the wall opposite of his bed, he threw on a decent shirt of one of his favorite national parks and a dark pair of jeans on.

His phone began to sing a tune and he grumbled to himself again at the alarm. "Yeah yeah I'm up." He snapped breathlessly, pacing over and turning the damned thing off.

As the screen lit up he noticed several text messages were sent under a number he recognized. Like a bucket of ice was poured over his head, guilt washed down and chilled him to his bones.

Like always, he contemplated replying to him, before the night he'd never forget flashed in his mind and had him setting the phone the face down on his desk before getting back on track.

He didn't know why he hadn't blocked him yet. Maybe it was the hope that he would finally apologize for the way he had acted that night, or maybe he was just avoiding one of the hardest conversations he'd have to have in his life.

Instead of going to his closet in search for a jacket, he lifted the one that was made in a washed out navy blue that hung on his headboard by the hood.

Clara, his step mother, gifted it to him for his 17th birthday. It wasn't anything extravagant or expensive, but if you flipped the sleeves over, on the left one was a little teal embroidered design of flowers being held together by a bandaid.

He didn't really get the imagery when he first saw it, but looking at it now brought a smile to his face. Quickly, he took a deep breath and finished getting ready, slipping an his on usual black converse and walking out the door.