After the appointment that continued on with Dr. Jacks asking questions and I giving her the silent treatment, I left. Jessica said goodbye to me with a hopeful smile like she did every week. And I ignored her, like I did every week.
Leaving the office, I walked into the parking-lot where Leigh was waiting for me in her jeep. She waved at me excitedly with a big smile on her face. As much as I made it obvious I did not like her, she always was nice to me. It pissed me off more than anything, and secretly I thought she did this because she knew it pissed me off. Deep down though, I knew she was just being herself.
Leigh had been going out with my dad for almost two years and the entire time I had known her she was always smiling and kind to everyone; just like my dad. They were practically the perfect couple, the type you see on those online dating commercials. That’s where they met actually, through an online dating site.
Taking my time to get to where Leigh was parked, I took deep breaths of the fresh air, letting it fill my lungs to the brim then exhaling until nothing was left and had to take another deep breath. The satisfying click from the heels on my boots hitting the asphalt filled my ears making me feel a little more empowered. This was the closest I’d get to a walk alone in the park for a long time.
All too soon I was at Leigh’s Jeep Liberty and hauling myself into the passenger seat. Slamming the car door shut, I folded my arms across my chest, and furrowed my brows to reflect just as angry and annoyed as I felt.
“Hey, hon,” Leigh greeted happily. She always called me “hon” and it drove me crazy. She was treating me like I was her child—which I wasn’t. I made a point to tell her this when she first moved in with us, but she didn’t seem to understand what I meant by it.
Raising my eyebrows in acknowledgment I waited for her to start the car, but she didn’t. She looked at me then at the seatbelt. A very subtle hint.
“Are you going to buckle up?” she asked kindly, her eyes searching me for something.
Glaring at her from the corner of my eye, I slowly buckled myself into the seat and gave her an annoyed look. Looking from her to the steering wheel I waited for her to catch on.
“Oh,” she squeaked surprised, then started the car and slowly pulled out of the parking-lot.
Leigh was a slow driver and it irked me. When I was allowed to drive, I was fast and had a serious case of road-rage. I’d lay the horn on anyone who cut me off and passed me by or if they were driving too slow. Driving with Leigh not only annoyed me because it was her, but also because of our polar opposite driving habits.
Through the whole drive home, Leigh made small talk while I tried to drown her out with thought of going outside again and enjoying the fresh fall air. It was the thing I longed most to do.
The autumn to me was the best season of all. It had the most colors; the perfect weather (not too warm or too cold); the best smell. It held the best memories for me. It was the best season.
After what felt like hours, which was only ten minutes, we arrived “home”. It wasn’t really my home; my father had sold that last year. Now I was living in a bigger house in which Leigh shared with us.
I felt like I was an adopted child in this house. For Leigh and my father this was the beginning of their life together; for me – it was the end of my life with just my dad and me.
Parking the car on her side of the garage, Leigh turned off the car, and waited for me to get out with her. This was a rule she and my dad established after I tried to take the car out by myself after they got out one time.
It wasn’t an easy task for me to do it, because I had to sneak the spare keys into my coat pocket, while they weren’t paying attention to me, that wasn’t an easy task since they were always watching me like a hawk watching its prey. When Leigh had gotten out of the car and was walking back into the house, I hopped over the boot between the two seats, and put the keys in the ignition. In my haste I forgot the car was put in forward and crashed through the detached garage.
Now whenever we were getting out of the car, I had to get out of the car with them. No letting me be alone in the car anymore. They were treating me like a child and this did not go well with me.
Putting my hand on the handle of the car door, I yanked it open and hopped out of the car, stomping out and walking across the grass the front door of our house. Leigh followed behind hurriedly.
Waiting impatiently at the front door for her to unlock I tapped my foot and stared out at our tree covered front yard.
We lived in the back of the city where all the bigger houses were. Our closest neighbor was about a mile down the road, so we had a lot of land and most of our land was made up of forest. In autumn it was absolutely gorgeous. It was the only saving grace for this stupid farmhouse in the middle of nowhere.
Popping open the door, Leigh walked in and I followed, throwing my coat on the coat rack and heading upstairs to my bed room to sulk in self-loathing. It was my favorite pastime.
“Oh no,” Leigh said, carefully hanging her coat on the rack. “You’re helping me with dinner tonight. All you ever do is sleep and stare at the ceiling. You can make yourself productive.”
Giving her a critical look, I shrugged, and then walked the rest of the way up the creaky old staircase. There was no way I would spent an hour in the kitchen with her cutting vegetable and cooking meat. She could do that herself.
Hearing her give out a low groan or a loud sigh, not sure which, Leigh headed into the study where the only phone in the house was located. Slamming the door shut in irritation, I could hear her pacing back and forth, debating whether she should bother my father at work or not.
Not bothered by this, I walked to my bedroom that was directly across from the staircase, easy access for Leigh and my father to see everything I was doing and to make sure I wasn’t doing anything I shouldn’t be.
The door was taken off its hinges which left me with no privacy in the room. They had to make sure I didn’t do anything I shouldn’t be. The last time I had my bedroom door closed was when I was at my home. When my dad opened the door, he wasn’t prepared to see what lay behind it. No parent would be.
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Dedicated to Megan for being such a great person, friend and reader. xo
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Falling Colors
Подростковая литература"The unfixable; the shattered; the torn; the broken. They all come here. It's my job to remake them, because once its broken there is no going back to the way it was. It must be remade." Six individuals. Six unique stories. Five exercises. One...
