Clarity

July

I wanted to throw myself out of the moving vehicle, as my mother, Shannon, drove down a sleepy residential street, in an equally sleepy town, I was now being forced to call home. Portland, Oregon, never sounded so good. The crazy people, the displeasing smells, all the people protesting something every day of the week. Instead, I got dragged to Gem, Oregon. I'm positive the population is just two, my mom and I. 

I don't want to sound like I'm ungrateful because I love my mom, and the last few years have been hard, but I don't see why she had to accept a teaching job here. She said it was for me, because back in Portland, I was the freak. I know, right? Who thought there were freaks in Portland, aren't people all pretty freaky in Portland in their own way? 

Apparently, being a headcase makes someone a freak. Being labeled as the headcase your Freshmen year of high school, only means one thing. I will always be the headcase. It's not like it is my fault I don't think and act like the robots that refer to themselves as individuals do as they wander around the halls of some big building and learn about things that they won't even remember in two years. 

All I know for sure is, when the amount of kids that attend the local high school is less than a third of my entire high school in Portland, it won't take long for everyone to know that I am the headcase. I thought about not talking to anyone, and praying I slowly disappear, but in the real world, that won't happen, and everyone will think I'm the crazy one if I don't talk. If I do talk, I'm the crazy one. There is really no win-win situation here, everything sucks, everything always sucks. Why does everything always suck? What did I do in a past life, in a current life, in present day to make the universe hate me? Please, tell me because I have no idea. 

The only thing my mother is concerned about is how far we're going to have to drive to find me a decent therapist. I don't understand why she bothers, it's not like I actually talk to them anyway. We stare at each other, awkwardly. I've gone through three, and all I do is stare, and try not to break eye contact. In the human species, the one who initiates eye contact and holds it is the one who is dominate, right? I am the alpha. It's the only explanation, because, face it, all of these therapists end up referring me to someone else, who will be easier to relate to. That's just doctor talk for someone who is just right out of school. The closer we are in age, the easier they think they can relate to me. Yeah, okay, when was the last time they were fifteen? 1999? 

"Avery!" My mom shouted, ripping the earphone from my ear, "I hate when you do that! I was attempting to talk to you!" 

"Whatever," I said. She parked in front of a yellow house was a manicured lawn, and turned off the moving truck. She hopped out of the car, her blonde curls bouncing as her feet hit the ground. I groaned as I got out of the truck, and stood in front of the house. I was in Pleasantville, it was happening. I was being conformed. I was waiting for the song and dance number to start, with a bunch of people in matching track suits, singing about how lovely it was living in Gem, Oregon. 

The door next door opened, and a girl stormed out of the house, that was almost identical to the one I found myself in front of. 

"Kenzie!" A boy called, going after her, "I'm sorry, alright? I didn't mean it. I have so much going on right now, I'm so stressed out, I'm sorry I took it out on you." 

"I don't need your stupid lines, Noah!" Kenzie shouted, "if you don't want to date me, because I'm some inconvenience to you, why are you always trying to fix everything?" Kenzie flung the door open to a red Honda Civic and peeled off, like a bat out of hell. I didn't even know a Honda could go that fast. 

My mom opened the back of the U-Haul, and it sounded like a semi truck was driving by. I glanced over at Noah, and he was looking at us. I quickly looked away, and went over to the back of the truck, and tried to not look at him.