Misfits

Jonathon

I slouch in my chair, crossing my arms across my chest and hiding my eyes underneath my hair. No one speaks. The invitation hangs in the air, but no one takes it. We never do. You want us to talk, you have to pry it from our throats. The carpet is a 'soothing' green, the walls are white, the atmosphere is thick. The leader of our group sighs and looks around the circle, looking for her first victim. We all tuck our chins lower into our necks, sliding down further. Her eyes land on me, and a fake smile grows. "Jonathon, how about you start us off. How are you feeling today?" I groan, glare, and grunt as I sit up and brush my hair away. "Peachy." A few of them snicker. "Jonathon. This is your third week in the hospital, and they're keeping you for lack of cooperation in group therapy. Unless you tell me how you're really feeling, you're going to get a fourth." I roll my eyes and pick at the loose thread on my uniform. Fighting the urge to flick her off, I reach deep to pull out a genuine response that will satisfy everyone and give me a good cry. "I'm feeling like a 'blessing' and a 'miracle' who just wanted to DIE!"

Haha. Haha.

Ha.

<><><>

Vanessa got Belle. There was never any doubt in my mind that she wouldn't, but a junior getting the lead role is worth celebrating. She has an amazing voice, and she's the spitting image of the princess. Besides, if she hadn't gotten it our parents wouldn't keep funding the drama program. Not that Nessa knows anything about that.

Nessa has talent. She can sing beautifully and transform herself into any character. She has hair that can work with any style and a body that can wear any costume. Vanessa is a director's dream. And so are my parents. Mom and Dad have funded the drama program ever since Nessa expressed in interest in the arts, just on the off chance that if she was still into it by high school, their daughter would have a step up over everyone else. And she has. She's been a lead in every play and musical since sixth grade, and even as a freshmen, Nessa had solos. By now we all know she doesn't need our parents money to get by. It's pure talent.

Like we do to celebrate every role Vanessa lands, we went out to her favorite restaurant in the square. Of course, my parents dictated my order to the waiter to ensure that I don't go to crazy and order something with more than 500 calories. It's their goal to make me acceptable before I go away to college. I don't think it's going to happen.

Just as our food arrives, I spot a familiar figure walk past the window. Just like always, we're at the window seat since Vanessa likes to people watch. Although it's dark outside, I can still tell that it's Lucas. He catches my eye and pauses, glancing at the table, his face reddening in embarrassment. Figures. Now that he knows what I have to do he doesn't want to be seen with me anymore. I hang my head dejectedly and look up just in time to see him walking away, turning down a street and disappearing from view.

Of course the minute I get a real group of friends I lose them. Of course I finally find people I like and they don't like me back. Of course the minute I get happy with living I'm brought back down to despair.

It's not like drama. My parents can't buy me friends.

<><><>

I wake up to a sunny Saturday morning and a buzzing phone. It's such a foreign sound that I barely register it, instead lying in bed letting the sun warm my face. The buzzing persists, so I grab my phone, wondering which parent is trying to get a hold of me. Instead I see about eighty missed messages, and more rolling in. My eyes squint at the bright screen, trying to determine who's texting me. My vision shifts into focus and I read the names of my new friends appearing with each message.

I scroll to the top of the chat my fingers quivering with the anticipation and my brain trying to formulate a witty sentence. The first few messages are greetings, which progress into stupid jokes, which progress into Jordan laying a bomb on everyone: Lucas' mother was arrested last night.