Flawed Perception

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

If any of Andy's friends had to stay, I was glad it was Nick. He was quiet and kept to himself. He respected my mother and my desire for privacy. He had known me long enough to understand that I preferred being left alone.  

It was still uncomfortable to be around him. We were friends as kids. He actually met Andy through me. We grew up together and he was one of my closest childhood friends. It all changed the summer after sixth grade, when we were twelve and he began avoiding me and met the group of kids he hung out with still. Of all my friends I had lost touch with, he was the only one I had stopped being friends with before I changed freshman year, and until then the only friend I missed.

No matter what kind of past we had, it did not change anything. He was still just another of my brother's loser friends who slept all day and smoke and drank all night. Nothing changed that. A part of me became a bit sad every time I saw him, remembering back to the kid he was back when we were friends. An even bigger part of me could not care less, he had become that way himself.  

The next day I woke up at 6 am, as I always did. I wasn't going to change a thing merely because there was another person staying with us. I got up and grabbed a towel from the linen closet before heading to the bathroom for a shower. I was half asleep and still groggy. As I walked I bumped into something in the hallway, actually someone. Nick.  

It all happened so fast but somehow, despite how close we were, he managed once again to avoid touching me.  

"Whoa, sorry Willi, I mean Willa," he blurted out. It had been so long since we had interacted this much, that I had forgotten that he used to call me Willi as well.  

I didn't say anything in reply. I maneuvered around him and shut the door as quickly as I could. I had no patience for my brother or his friends in general, and even less in the mornings. I turned on the water, ensuring it was hot before taking off my clothes and stepping in. 

It was hot enough to make my skin red, but not enough to burn. I had preferred my showers like this since I was a child. Maybe I thought it was cleansing. I only knew that it was the only way I felt clean. 

When I was finished I rushed across the hall and into my room, to avoid anymore encounters. I quickly towel dried my hair before looking in the closet for something to wear. I settled on light jeans and a black Cure T-Shirt. I had a thing for eighties music. I liked everything from new wave to punk. I stepped into a pair of gray Vans. 

I checked my hair in the mirror. I had long, very thick and curly brown hair. I was used to it being out of control, so hair ties had become my hair's best friend. I put it up into a ponytail. I didn't worry about makeup, never did really. I didn't care about being pretty. I had previously thwarted many of my mom and Brittany's attempts to make me over or buy me lipstick.  

Over the years I had come to realize that by making myself up like that, I was only doing it because of the way people saw me. It didn't matter how pretty or presentable I looked, to the students at Smith High, I only existed as the butt of a few jokes. When I changed people began treating me differently. Since the end of last year I had tried to make back a few of the friends I had lost, but I was too different. I was 'weird' to them now, or 'socially awkward' as some have said. 

After fixing my hair I picked up my backpack from the floor at the end of my bed and left my room. I went to the kitchen to toast some bread to eat on my way to school. It was dark in the apartment. All of the blinds were shut, allowing none of the early morning sun into the room. I opened the curtains in the kitchen, emitting a small beam of light.