The Focus Effect

One

You never start the day off thinking you'll be dead by the end of it.  I died on a Friday. Thankfully, I didn't remain that way.

That day began as normal as any.

My mom yells for me to get in the car.  "We're late!"

This is typical, us being late.  I yell that I can't find my shoes.  This never goes over well with her and elicits more yelling about how I should have had them on twenty minutes ago.  My stupid sister smirks at me.  I know she's probably done something with them.

"Find another pair," my mom growls.  "You have twenty others to choose from." 

She's always telling me that we have more than we need.  I mumble something about needing new shoes.  My mom begins counting to ten.  I hate it when she does this.  It is her way of telling me that I am being an annoying teenager.  When we get to school, I don't look at my mom, nor do I say goodbye.  What I do is slam the door on the Navigator.  She always loves that.

I pass by a girl with red curls who says hi to me but I completely ignore her.  She has holes in her shoes and her dad drives a rusty old van.  We were friends once.  I used to play with her in the first grade.  What was her name?  It eludes me.  But really, why am I even thinking about this crap?

When I get to my locker, Sofia and Mel are huddled together dressed in their cheer-leading uniforms, either conspiring or gossiping—take your pick.  When I tried out for cheer-leading my freshman year and didn't make it, Sofia and Mel staged a protest in the school parking lot for almost two weeks.  It didn't change anything, but I thought it was kind of sweet, though completely embarrassing.  Lesser girls would have left me to rot among the general population—but not Sofia and Mel.

As I approach my locker, Mel runs up to me and grabs me by the shoulders and gives me a good shake.  "Did you hear?"  She looks around to make sure no one else does and lowers her voice.  "Tonya and Brad broke up yesterday and Brad's coming to Todd's party tonight," she sings.  A worried look settles on her face.  "You're coming right?  Tell me you're coming."  She stares at me like a deer caught in headlights.

I think about trying to break it to them gently but I reconsider.  It's probably best to rip the Band-Aid off quickly.  "I can't."

Sofia's eyes grow twice their size and Mel blanches.

"You're not serious."  Sofia is incredulous.  "Tyler will be there."  From the look on her face, I can tell she regrets that little blurb of info.  Now I'm more than happy to miss it.

I push between them to get to my locker.  "My parents said we're going to the lake tonight.  Something about a family weekend.  We'll be there till Sunday."

I hear Mel gasp.  "Did you tell them how important this party is to you?" she asks.

Her question almost doesn't justify an answer.  What she really means is how important it is to her.  "Of course," I sigh, not bothering to look at her.  Luckily, she can't see the indignant look on my face.

"And?" Mel demands.  When I turn around she has her hands on her hips.  She looks exactly like her mom right now.  I don't dare tell her this.

"They don't care," I smirk.

This they understand.  But I'm not really upset.  I should be, but I'm thankful that I won't be there to listen to Mel's endless banter about how in love with Brad she is and always will be.  Please, she's in love with his physique.  She's never said more than a handful of words to the guy.  What can any of us possibly know about love?  And love at first sight?  Don't get me started.  It's a farce—a conspiracy started by perfectly beautiful people to make everyone else jealous of their perfection.  I'm not cynical.  Really.  I'm just a realist.