Focus

Plan B

It's funny how easy it is to stray from a plan you've made for yourself. I was so sure that as soon as I got back, I'd become a new and improved person. Hannah 2.0, the newest model, the best version of myself I can be. Wednesday night when Aisling dropped me off, though, I wasn't really sure what to do with myself...it's not that I was sad, or angry, or contemptuous - when I finally made it through the front door and clicked the lock shut behind me, all I could comprehend was anxiety. Sleep was my only option at that point so I dropped all my bags on the kitchen floor and headed straight for bed. It didn't help. Unfortunately when I woke up the next morning, my problems were still so stifling I almost had trouble breathing. Knowing that your life is careening out of control and there's nothing you can do is nauseating, to say the least. Over the next few days, Sarah pops in and out of the house regularly. It's always, "I'm late to meet Brian," or "There's leftovers in the fridge," or "Don't wait up for me, okay?" I don't blame her, really. College students need to find the perfect mix of school, friends, a social life, family, and in her case, work. I guess family just isn't much a priority in her equation simply because the only family she has left is living in the house with her, and I'm it. She probably figures seeing me for a few minutes every night and before she leaves in the morning is good enough. It's not really a problem for me. Her constant absence gives me all the time I need to study for the new school year and to practice my clarinet for the upcoming marching season. Amanda is now visiting the Louvre, and she's scheduled to return from her European escapade the day before school starts. It's been months since I've heard from either Hayley or Angelica; who knows what they're up to. And if I haven't heard from Aisling by now, I don't think I ever will again. Figures. Started off on my own, and now I'm finishing this on my own. For the next two months until senior year starts, it's going to be SAT vocabulary and memorizing field sets until my brain hurts. This is good news, for the most part. At least I'll be busy.

Wrong. I'm not busy enough. My mind is still desolate of any valid thoughts; just a barren wasteland repeating the same cycles over and over again until my brain is raw. It's now the third week into July: only five more weeks until the start of the first semester. I know my marching drill backwards and forwards by now to the point where I could play our entire show in my sleep, and I'm sitting on the plush carpet in my bedroom with my back propped up against the side of my bed. The sweltering heat seems to be coming from nowhere. Every fan in the entire house is on, the AC is running full blast, the windows are closed, and all the lights are turned off in an effort to emanate as little heat as possible. Nevertheless I feel cool beads of sweat trickling down the back of my neck as I review the reading comprehension section of my practice test SAT book for the hundredth time. "Which of the following, if true, would weaken the author's contention about 'lessons in cooperation'? Line 39," I recite the question dully, racking my brain for an answer. "The presentation of facts without comment in paragraph 6, maybe?" I scratch my head hopelessly and try to ignore the choking humidity pressing in from all sides. "Or maybe, uh, her close examination of preconceptions." The sweat from my fingers makes my pencil stick to the interior of my hand, and I groan in disgust. "Preconceptions?" I grumble. "What the fuck is 'verisimilitude?" My finger trails further down the damp page, tracing each question as they get harder and harder.

I flip to the back of the book where the answers are, and find question number 14, section 2. "Oh, of course!" I smack my forehead sarcastically. "The appearance of being true or real." Indignation sweeps over me and I instantly snap the book shut and throw it across the room helplessly. "Sounds like my relationship with Calum," I mutter, burying my face in my hands. What on earth am I going to do with myself? As if in immediate answer to my question, Sarah appears in my doorway out of nowhere. "Hey, Han!" she grins. I look up at her wide-eyed in surprise. "I, uh, hey! Why are you home so early? I thought you had classes until 5:00!" She shoots me a sly grin. "Partying, mindless schoolwork... difficult decision," she deadpans. Party? Hm. "Party?" My words echo my thoughts. "What party?" She leans against the door frame and casually inspects her nails. "Oh, just something one of the sororities is putting together. Not a big deal." Upon noticing my skeptical look, she quickly adds, "It's co-ed, Han. We're not that lame. Wanna come?" Eagerness to fill the empty void in my life caused me to agree to go almost instantly, as it did with the next party, and the next one. Three weeks of obtuse cramming for a college board exam, and all I needed was a good social gathering to get me back on my feet. Or so I thought.