The Power of Thought

Chapter 4

    After lunch, Connor and I walked along the walking trail that started outside my family's apartment. No one was there but us, and the only thing we could hear were the birds singing in the trees, sitting on the big power lines that occasionally cut a giant line through the forest. We held hands as we walked and didn't talk about much for minutes at a time.
    Connor suddenly pulled his hand from mine, taking with him the electricity that I felt when he touched me. Anxiety rushed in and my mind let in all sorts of thoughts from everywhere around. I got upset for no reason and I was aware there was no reason to freak out, but he knew I wasn't done holding his hand. He knew what happened when the thoughts rush in.
    He was the only one that knew.
    I took a second to calm my initial reaction and translated what I was about to say into something that wouldn't sound so needy.
    "What is it?" I asked.
    "I just want to sit down and relax for a second," Connor said.
    He walked to one edge of the path and sat down, facing the trees. He held his knees to his chest and rested his chin on his knees.
    "Do you want to talk about something?" I asked, having had my fill of not talking.
    He sat there quietly for a second, thinking about things to say, I'm sure.
    "I dunno. How's your mom doing?" he asked. I chuckled, wondering why everyone was so concerned with my mother recently. I decided to say just that.
    "Why is everyone so concerned about my mom?" I asked. He looked at me and shook his head.
    "I just meant... How is she doing with her job?" he asked. "I know your father works too, so I guess I should ask about your father too," he said. I didn't respond. Today was getting good.
    "Aren't you going to say anything?" he asked. "I know you're parents struggle quite a bit, so I thought I'd ask," he said.
    I sat down beside him. I couldn't blame him. I thought about his parents being well-off probably as much as he thought about my parents being poor. I felt two opposing emotions. One was that I thought it was none of his business how much my parents did or didn't struggle and two, I thought he was a well-meaning person who didn't mean to upset me.
    My parents money situation obviously affected me, being that I was still in high school and couldn't afford to live on my own. Maybe, I thought, I should just tell him what was on my mind.
    "I guess I just don't like talking about it with you," I said, looking up at him. "I see your family being so happy together, being able to ignore money because you have money," I said. "All my parents have time for is passive aggression and worrying about bills," I said.
    "It's not my money though," he said. He sometimes did that annoying thing where he doesn't actually address the issue, but manages to end the conversation in a neat and clean way. He was right. The money wasn't his, and he was still a high schooler just like me. He was lucky.
    "I mean, yeah, I do get things and I feel safe from the outside world most of the time, but we still have major problems with each other," he said. I rolled my eyes.
    "Like what?" I ask.
    "Well," he paused, looking like he was weighing whether or not he should say anything at all. "Did you know my mother secretly despises my father?" he asked.
    I shook my head. I didn't. They always seemed happy to me.
"Did you know that my father cheated on my mom like twenty-two years ago, and she hasn't really ever forgiven him?" he asked.
    "I had no idea," I told him, my mouth hanging open slightly. I was amazed that Connor's parents, whom I assumed had the perfect relationship, had a major defect.
    "That's why I felt connected with you," he started. "When you told me your biological dad left your mom when you were a baby, I felt that pretty deeply. My parents were distant for all of my life, and I know your mom and dad fight a lot too," he said.
    He was right again. Sometimes I forgot all about my biological dad. I called my step-dad my real dad since he's been there ever since I could remember. The only thing I couldn't understand about Connor keeping this secret about his dad's affair is how long he kept it from me. We've had so many heart to heart conversation when we spilled everything about ourselves and our pasts to each other. How could he have kept this to himself?
    I realized at that point that I hadn't said that much. After Connor confessed something to me, there was normally a period of time when he just needed me to console him while he sobbed. This time, however, Connor didn't seem upset, and he didn't start crying like he normally did. My silence was obvious.
    "I don't know what to say," I muttered. "Do they ever fight in front of you?" I asked.
    "No, actually," he smiled. "Uncle Frank was the one who told me about the affair. They fake being happy in front of me so I won't have to deal with it, at least, that's what Uncle Frank told me," Connor said.
   "Yeah, speaking of Uncle Frank, he gave me too much money today at lunch," I said. I pulled out the bills and started to hand them to Connor. "Could you slip it back in his wallet or something? I just... don't feel right taking this much from him," I said.
    Connor pushed my hand back.
    "No, I can't. Uncle Frank never gives money to anyone unless if he wants to give them money. And plus, I think he likes you ever since I told him you like to write," he said.
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