Choosing Us

Part VI: It's a Date

Closing my final textbook and notebook to replace them in my backpack and zipped up my bag. I walked to the refrigerator to see my options for the night. It had been five days since my parents left for New York, and though there was still plenty of food stocked, I lacked much of an appetite or motivation to cook anything for that matter. I settled on a sandwich before going through the motions of caring for Charlie, showering, and folding some laundry. I finally pulled my blankets up under my chin ready for some rest, but as I closed my eyes, I replayed my recent interaction with Wyatt over and over again pausing on moments when our eyes had met. His pale green irises seemed to be burned into my mind and easily a place that I could get lost. 

Even though it was an inevitable evil, my alarm clock began doing its thing. Loudly, I might add. I quickly shut it off to spare myself from any further punishment. I then proceeded with my normal morning routine for school, but I spent longer than I typically do on my appearance taking great car and precision when using  my concealer and ensuring not to miss any strays while straightening. Though I had spent much effort over the summer getting into shape and becoming more lean, my body maintained an athletic and curvy build. Because of this, the blouse I had chosen for the day clung to my chest and hips. Normally, this would have made me self-conscious to the extent of needing to change, but I looked at myself in the mirror, and for once, I was proud and liked what I saw. 

Gathering my items, I threw them in the backseat of my car and made my way to Liv's house. She was ready when I arrived and quickly jumped into her seat. As she was closing the door behind her, she was already making assumptions of the likely events and interactions of the day. Liv would sprinkle quick and short questions about my parents but would never linger. We had the understanding that if I wanted to talk about it, I would; otherwise, we would keep it to a minimum. I appreciated her for that. She was a lot of things, but she was not pushy when it came to things that I was sensitive or worried about. We were at our lockers when my phone rang. I looked down and saw that my mom was calling. I looked at Liv and said, "I haven't spoken with them in a few days. I'll be right back." Liv nodded with support and understanding. "Hey mom." I said as I answered the call. "Hey! How are you, honey? How is school?" My mom asked in a more chipper voice than I had anticipated, but honestly, I didn't know what to expect from her sometimes. "It's fine, mom. Everything is going smoothly. -" "That's good. That's really good, hon," my mom said quickly in an unconvincing tone. Silence wavered between us until I asked, "how is dad?" I waited with holding my breath for her answer. "We don't really know yet. Everyday they perform tests and scans, and draw blood. I just don't know if we are any closer than where we were," her voice trailed off. "How are you holding up?" I asked to which she responded, "It's been rough, hon." There were no words that I could think that would offer relief to her at this time- so I allowed the silence to flow between us. I could hear some sniffling and then my mother quickly stated, "okay. Well, I need to go be with your dad." A lump began to form in my throat as I knew this might have been true, but it may have been more likely that she needed an excuse to end the call, and I responded as expected, "Of course, mom. I love you. Tell Dad that I love him too." The phone clicked as my mom had hung up before reciprocating my affection. Unfortunately, this was not unusual for my family. Though it may not have been the healthiest upbringing, I knew my role was to entertain and emotional support and validate my parents as that was what was taught to me at an early age. Rather than exploring and emotionally experiencing events within my childhood, my energy was focused on comforting and reassuring my mother and father that mistakes, accidents or unapproved actions would not occur again. I had come to terms with as well as became quite  adept with dismissing my own emotions and experiences as it seemed to not have a space to land within my house. From the outside, I'm sure that people thought my family was just about as close to picture perfect as a family could be. My parents had respectable, good paying jobs, a good house, went to church, and, they had me. I was a consistent and reliable child that brought home straight A's, avoided conflict and never caused or partook in school mischief. My mom would often be showered with compliments anytime there was a parent teacher conference which she received as if it were the bare minimum. Please don't get me wrong. I love my parents, but I was beginning to realize that in the 18 years of my life- I have never actually taken the time to get to know myself. I have been putting my efforts into upholding their expectations that I never actually made choices based on my desires or needs. The thought of that gave me a wave of discomfort and feelings of selfishness. So, I did what I was good at and composed myself, picked up my backpack, stuffed my phone back into the front pocket and walked to my first period class. 

I must have had a pale look on my face because Liv looked confused at me as I approached my usual desk. Liv's discretion and patience would fall under a couple of the millions of reasons that I love my best friend. She was never pushy to ask about the details of things but would give me a knowing look. I did not feel safe or ready to discuss this verbally especially within a crowded setting, but I ripped out a sheet of paper from my notebook and began to jot down some items: 

1). Not much news with my dad. Still doing a bunch of tests. 

2). My mom is not holding up well. 

3). No idea when they will be coming home. 

I passed the note to Liv. She opened and nodded with understanding. I saw that she began scribbling a response to me. She took quite some time and appeared to have written a short essay. Finally, she folded the sheet and handed it back to me. I quickly opened it to begin reading: 

1). I'm glad that they are being thorough. 

2). That is understandable, but let's be real... Your mom was always a drama queen, but this has probably sent her over the edge. 

3). You know you are welcome to stay with me at anytime. Mama and Papa Mitchell loves you, sometimes more than me. Or, if you want me to stay with you, I can. Just name the day. 

4). How are you holding up? I mean really- I don't push, but I'm worried about you. You seem thinner and tired. (Obviously, you are still hot, LOL), but seriously, I just want to make sure you are okay. I love you, Tori. 

I sat in thought for a moment. Not listening to what Mrs. Jackson was talking about, but Liv's last question. My pencil seemed paralyzed. I finally broke through my frozenness and began dragging my pencil on the paper to portray my thoughts. 

4). I'm not okay, but I don't know if I have ever been. 

Liv took sometime to think and responded:

4). So, girls night tonight? Your house or mine? 

Liv had draw cutesy doodles to illustrate the houses and appeared to try to lighten the mood. I circled mine and sent it back to Liv. Though I love Mr. and Mrs. Mitchell, I needed privacy with what was going on. Liv wrote back quickly and handed the note to me almost getting the attention of our teacher, Mrs. Jackson:

4). It's a date ;) 

I smiled. She always knew how to make me smile.