But the thought was insane. I should not have been thinking about her or the stupid party or anything in relation to my freshman class. Then I held one of my classic conversations with myself.
Why would I even want to go to the beach with all the people that hate me? Said my smart, sensible side.
To see Cassandra. Replied the Wit that everyone wanted me to be.
It was pointless to argue with myself. A decision had to be made whether I liked it or not. My head was pounding like someone had a hammer to it. I should be sleeping, but my eyes still sting whether they were closed or not. I just kept thinking about how much fun I could have if I went to go see all my fellow peers at the final party of the year. But that was stupid.
I was terrified of the ocean and knew that I was invited only to make a fool of myself in front of the entire freshman class. I stole a glance outside my window at the soft beach that lay on the horizon. I shivered and that light-headed feeling returned to me. I might have thrown up had it not been for another knock at my door.
It was my Aunt.
"Hello, sweetie. How are you feeling? How was your last day at school? You're uncle told me you weren't feeling well, what's wrong?"
The woman barely let me breathe before smothering me in questions. She came over to my bed and firmly grasped her hands in mine. She looked at my tired eyes for a few seconds.
"You really aren't feeling well, are you?" She said, her concern obvious.
"I'm alright." Trying to keep my responses short was a big mistake with my aunt. She could never take "I'm okay" or "I'm fine" for an answer. I should have known better than to tell her the same lies I told Uncle Levi; she could see through me better than he could.
"I don't why you think you can lie to me, young man. What in Heaven's name is wrong with you? You look ill." She let go of my hands and put one her's to my face.
"Really, I'm fine. I just feel a little under the weather. It's no big deal." I persisted.
"Whitaker Walker," she gave me a look of doubt, "you are far from fine. You look awful!"
"I know." I said tiredly, nearly cutting her off. "I know. I just need some sleep." But that would only bring nightmares, I'm sure. I'd rather stay up all night then have to dream of drowning in cold water. It wasn't helping that my aunt kept pointing out that I resembled a walking corpse. Last time I'd looked in the mirror at school, I did, in fact, look dead. Something told me that I didn't look any different.
"Sleep isn't going to be enough. You need some medicine. Has your uncle even bothered to ask if you're okay?" She purses her lips.
Now I was angry. Whenever she got the chance, my aunt would try to make Levi look like a bad man. She would try to make it seem like he wasn't qualified to take care of me. Like she would do a better job. "Of course he has. Why does it concern you how he takes care of me." Big mistake, Wit.
Her eyes grew wide and the defined lines in her face grew tight. "Excuse me? I don't know what's gotten into you, Whitaker, but I don't like it. I think you need to come back with me this time."
She always did this. "No. I'm not having this conversation. I'm staying with Levi and you can't make me go with you." I pushed myself from bed and left the room for my words to resonate off the wall.
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There was always an uncomfortable silence that surrounded the shambles that were supposed to be my family. My uncle, with his graying hair peppered with its natural brown, and my aunt, whose face was tight and her eyes were beady. She had been glaring at me since I left the conversation earlier. She was always so uptight about me living with my uncle. He had custody of me and she didn't; therefore, she couldn't make me go with her.
I remained silent and decided against the want to speak. So many things could've been made known, but I figured I was in enough trouble for one day. My uncle seemed to understand that she'd once again pressured me into going back with her and he, too, stayed quiet. The small chinks of silverware against glass plates made me flinch. I could tell my aunt was forming her words carefully and preparing a long speech about how she would be so much better for me.
Almost on cue, she started by clearing her throat, "I think Whitaker should come back with me. He needs to get away from all this chaos. You know how he is about the ocean, Levi." She wiped her mouth with a napkin.
"Why don't you ask him?" The snark marinated his voice. It was almost surprising, but the both of us knew she never would. "Go on, Alexandra. Ask him if he wants to go live with the aunt who pruned him for three years trying to get him diagnosed."
I flinched. The words just sounded harsh to me despite their truth. My fingers immediately did what they always did when I was nervous. I looked down at my shaking hands as thoughts rushed in my head. What am I going to say if she asks me? How am I going to respond? Which words should I use? What is she gets mad? This happened so often, I almost expected it, but the thought of my aunt pressuring me with questions made me want to bury myself six feet under.
"Whitaker?" she paused and I knew she was waiting for my eye contact. I looked up, but couldn't meet her cold eyes.
"Ma'am?" I nearly coughed the words out instead of spoke them.
"Do you want to get away from the ocean and from the memory of your parents and come live with me?" It almost wasn't a question the way she asked it. I could feel that migraine coming back even worse than before. I desperately needed an excuse to leave the conversation, but my aunt could see straight through my lies. There was no point.
"No." I said, and it probably came across as no more than a subtle whisper despite the silence. "I don't."
She shifted in her chair at my words as if they made her uncomfortable. I could see the lines on her face tighten with both anger and determination. "Whitaker, you do realize that if you come with me, you wouldn't have to attend public school, don't you?"
I knew Uncle Levi couldn't offer that. He didn't have enough money to quit his job and home-school me. There was no competition there. But my decision had to be made and I'd rather put up with a school of idiots than leave my uncle here all alone. "My answer remains the same and you can't say anything to change that."
Aunt Alexandra made a noise that was similar to a scoff. She then put her hands in her lap and held them together tightly. "Whitaker, can you excuse us for a moment?" That time, she definitely wasn't asking. I didn't nod and say anything, I just pushed my chair from the table and made my way back up the stair towards my room. There was a horrible feeling in my stomach. She spoke those words with so much restrained frustration that my heart skipped a few beats. Nothing could prepare me for what was to come.
Things between my aunt and uncle had never been the best thing in the world, but at the same time, they never fought around me. Just when they thought I couldn't hear them. When I was a few years younger, they would always ask me to go outside and play or to go run an errand for them, but when I came back, I always knew. There was always evidence.
Something was broken or overturned and they both had tear stains on their faces. My uncle was always running his hands through his hair, even before it grayed. Then, Aunt Alexandra would hug me and say she was going to be back soon and not to worry, but even as a child, I knew better. She wouldn't return for a few days and then when she did, she always wanted me to come live with her. She'd been asking me the same question for six years.
And now as I made my way upstairs, I was dragged back to my childhood by the same thing that kept me away from it.
