Life, I Guess

1

"Been through the ringer a couple times..." my phone sings.

Normally this is where I wake up and groan about how I don't want to go to school. Or my mom comes walking into my room saying, "Time to get up, sweetie!"

That's cliche.

I'm already awake, staring at my wall. I wonder to myself, "If I don't go to school, what will I miss?" I run through my class schedule in my mind, settling on the fact I can't miss calculus or else I'll be completely lost.

When the alarm sounds, I push my blankets off of me and walk across to my phone and slide the alarm off. I see a text from Devin, some Instagram notifications, and a few college emails.

College, Devin, leaving...

I clench my eyes shut and rub them. Stop.

I walk to the bathroom and turn on the water. I slide out of my pajamas and catch my reflection in the mirror. I stare at my shoulders, my bare chest, my hips, my thighs, and my eyes wonder to meet themselves. Ugly.

If this were an average teen-getting-over-anxiety-getting-the-guy story, I would describe myself in a positive light. I won't do that.

Blonde.

Average height.

Thin on top, muscular legs.

Gray eyes.

There you have it.

I step into the shower. My mind wanders as I wash my hair and body. How will Devin react when I see him today? Will I have a panic attack again? Did I do all my homework?

Probably not excitedly, probably, probably.

I turn the water off and wrap my towel around my body. I sit on the floor and stare at the door. I do this a lot. I imagine my mom bursting through the bathroom door, asking what's wrong, telling me I need help, and taking me away.

Devin says attention won't work. I need to gain strength on my own. I trust Devin.

I stand up and put on my makeup, scrutinizing every flaw on my face. As I blow dry my hair, I think about how I do this everyday and no one notices. I'm trying, here. Look at me. Ask what's wrong.

That will never happen. I go unnoticed at school. I used to have a core friend group, but we went our separate ways when I started dating Devin.

Devin didn't do anything wrong in my opinion. He was honest and upset. That's all.

Honesty, that's respectable, right?

I think of Devin as I get dressed. I think of him wanting to take off the clothes I just put on. That's ridiculous though, he wouldn't want to do that. And if he did, it would be for his sake.

I'm completely ready for school now, and I look in the mirror. Pathetic.

I grab my backpack and walk out the door. If Mom asks if I ate breakfast, I'll say I forgot. She's beginning to believe me.

I walk to school since I live so close. Sometimes I listen to music, sometimes I think, sometimes I don't recall walking to school and I simply show up there.

I walk past two people making out in someone's truck. They aren't a couple. Anymore, that is. I wonder if they're happy. Devin would tell me it's not my business. I put my head down and walk to class.

Stepping into the classroom, I see my teacher and smile. That's what I'm supposed to do.

I check my phone. No messages.

I text Devin:
Have fun, learn lots!

I sound so happy, but that's not what I'm feeling. Should I erase it and tell him I'm freaking out again? Stop drawing attention to yourself. You know what he'll do if he thinks you're asking for it. I press send.

Shortly, my phone lights up.
You too

I try and think of a response to keep the conversation going, but I think I've annoyed him and I stop. Will just walked into class anyway.

"Hey, Sam."

"Will! Hi."

"Did you understand number 53? Because..."

And that's how our conversations were. On the surface, academia related. Occasionally we would get deep when we discussed science and religion, but it was mostly us talking about our stress and problems with teachers.

The bell rang, and I paid attention to the lesson. That's what I was supposed to do.