i can't stay mad at you

one

I wake up from my alarm. It's Tuesday, my least favorite day. It takes me a total of 3 minutes to convince myself to get out of bed. There is no motivation to do anything on a fucking Tuesday. I resist the urge to throw my still beeping phone across the room, there's enough cracks in it already, I'm surprised it's still functioning.

I quickly exit my room and walk down the hall to the bathroom. I have to take morning showers or my whole day will be off. The steam wakes me up and I'm out within ten minutes. This sucks. I really hate Tuesdays. I calm myself down  before I get worked up about this stupid day. Choosing clothes is easy; loose black sweatpants and a gray t-shirt. Nothing interesting. I look in the mirror and sigh, why do I have to deal with this untamable curly hair. It pisses me off.

Without attempting to do my hair I head downstairs for some breakfast. There better be fucking food. I open the fridge and... well there's milk, which is good enough I guess. I make a bowl of cheerios and think about how shitty this day is going to be. I hear my mom shuffling upstairs and quickly put my dish away and head back up to my room. I don't feel like dealing with her right now.

I walk over to my night stand and pick up the bottle of pills. Rolling my eyes I take the Zoloft dry. I'm so used to it now, it's basically candy. I check my phone and decide to head to school a little early today. I grab the keys from off the nightstand and head for the door. I'm not lucky in avoiding my mother this time around.

"Good Morning Miles," She says in a sickening voice. Who is this damn happy at 7 a.m?

"Morning," I glumly reply, the pill hasn't kicked in yet.

"Are you ready for today?" She asks the same question she asks every single Tuesday.

"Yes Ma, I am ready for today. It's not like I've been doing this for months or anything," I roll my eyes. She ignores my attitude. "Ok sweetie have a good day." She would prefer not to argue with me, it never ends well.

----

In the car, I try to catch my breath. My brain feels a little fuzzy. I drive to Barrington High in silence. I have lots of time to spare when I get there so I wait in the parking lot for a couple of minutes.

I have one friend. His name is Ethan. He is just as complicated as me and the perfect company. We have the shared agreement to never speak about our problems and the friendship works perfectly. He greets me in first period, "Sup Miles?"

"Hey man," I'm in a better mood than earlier this morning, not too much though, I should probably tell someone I need a higher dosage.

"Today is going to fucking drag. I swear I hate Tuesdays, truly the worst day of the week." Tell me about it.

"Definitely," There's not much to talk about this early in the morning, I don't even feel awake.

Stats ends as quickly as it started. I did not pay attention. I rush out of class, ready to get the day over with. The pill puts some pep in my step. My phone dings and I look down to see a reminder for my appointment after school. And then there's coffee everywhere.

"What the fuck!" I yell, definitely louder than necessary, but I can't help that.

I look down to see a short black haired girl with bright brown skin and a look of shock on her face. I have never seen her before but that's besides the point--the point being does she know how to fucking walk?

I voice the issue, "Are you fucking kidding me right now? Do you know how to walk?" I can't help but yell because you have got to be kidding me right now.

She looks at me, shocked by my overreaction, "I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attent-"

"Clearly," I cut her off and walk away. Not only am I late to class, but now my arms all wet from the coffee, which just pisses me off more. She's lucky it didn't get on my clothes. I quickly grab paper towel from the bathroom, clean myself up and head to class. The teacher doesn't question my lateness, which is good for him because I am in the mood to lose my shit again if need be.

I sit there and think about today. Tuesdays suck because it's therapy day. I am not looking forward to it, of course, because who wants to sit in front of a fucking shrink for an hour just to talk about just how much you can't control your temper. I already know I can't, I don't need the affirmation. I learned at a very young age that some things are not worth getting angry about. I also learned that I will be angry anyways. I can't help it really. I have anger issues. Obviously.

I get out of my thoughts enough to hear Mr. Green, "Class, this is our new student, her name is Olivia." And of fucking course it's the girl from the hallway and of fucking course the only empty seat is next to me. People realized quickly not to sit next to me after I went on a complete rampage and destroyed a classroom because someone threw a paper airplane at me. But she doesn't have a choice and plops down next to me. I avoid any kind of interaction, this girl can't even walk correctly, why would I speak to her.

I watch the clock intensely. Her foot taps annoyingly and I am about to snap but I can't. I really really really can't. If I cause another scene in this school I'm basically done for. See, I have some sort of control.

"Can you stop fucking tapping your shoe?" I whisper. Maybe I don't have that much control.

She looks at me. She's kinda attractive in an annoying sort of way, but I ignore it. "You're kind of an asshole," She whispers back.

I dont say anything back because really I'm shocked. I'm appalled. Extremely taken aback. No one speaks to me like that in this school or anywhere really. Who the fuck does she think she is? With haste, I stand up, causing my chair to hit the desk behind me. Everyone looks at me as I storm out, slamming the door on my way out. This is fine, I'm fine. I take deep breaths. I punch a locker. Another deep breath. Another locker.

They told me as long as I don't destroy any property, I can storm out of any class if that means I'm avoiding a much bigger and destructible scene. I regret thinking the girl is cute. She's a bitch. Fuck. No she's not. I need to calm down. I try to remember the stupid breathing exercises my shrink taught me but nothing is working. Fuck. Fuck. My blood is boiling and I'm close to ripping the damn water fountain off the wall. I should go for it. Obviously I won't be able to do it and therefore won't be destroying property. No, Idiot. With no outlet to my anger, I hold my breath. This is a method I did as a young child, and it worked for the most part until I was holding my breath for so long that I passed out. I knew I needed to find a new method after that. But right now it seems to be doing the trick.

I lean against the locker, catching my breath. The bell rings. Holy shit, it's only third period and I'm already struggling to get through the day.

I suck it up and head to Gov. I have this class with Ethan, so maybe it won't be too bad. I kind of enjoy this class. It doesn't seem completely useless and Mr. Peters has always been really nice to me, despite the reputation I uphold.

Ethan is pretty used to my outbreaks, "You look like you just punched an innocent dog," He smirks.

I smile, but say, "Yeah, don't wanna talk about it," And that's how this friendship works. The thing is I don't need another shrink. I don't need to talk to someone else about my issues, even it is my best friend.

He nods and turns back to the teacher. I look up to Mr. Peters, he's talking about some amendment and it's pretty interesting so I pay attention.

-----

Walking out to my car I recap the day. It's been so long. I almost snapped at one girl, which I forgot her name but hey at least of I have something to tell my shrink.

I could just be in normal anger management classes but my mother insists on Dr. Simmons, because she's "the best psychiatrist in the state." Yeah she's alright, I suppose. Whatever.

Driving is tough because I am easily annoyed and no one knows how fucking drive but me apparently. Fortunately, I don't have to bang up someone's car today with a baseball bat.

So many things are annoying me. I am just so annoyed.