You're The One

1

  I walked down the hall slowly, breathing in the everpresent smell of bleach and tightening my denim jacket around me. A nurse flew by me, her ponytail bouncing behind her. She smiled. I hated it when they smiled. They only smiled because they knew why I was there.
  I wrapped my fingers around the handle and pulled the door open, stepping into the room. Dr. Stevens shook my hand, offering a smile. Another godforsaken smile. I shook hers and glanced around the room. I took in the sight I'd seen countless times before, the window, the fish tank, the chairs in a circle, the filing cabinets.. but something stopped me in my survey.
  There was a boy across the room, standing near the window and looking out. Not a usual. I stuffed my hands into the pockets of my sweatpants and sat down in the chair nearest to me, keeping my eyes on the boy. The rest of the crowd made their way in, and he found a seat.

  Dr. Stevens settled herself in the chair in the middle of the circle and began the usual routine.

  "How do we feel today?" she went around the circle.

  "Numb," from Elijah, a 5th grader with BPD.

  "Good," Alexandra, bipolar 9th grader who answered the same way every week.

  Window boy answered, "Frustrated." I wondered what he was frustrated about.

  "Bailey? How are you feeling?"

  I looked up at her and sighed, "Tired."

  Out of the corner of my eye, I swore I saw him looking at me.
  When the session was over, I made my way to the vending machine. As I surveyed the options, I heard my stomach growl. I looked down, silently telling my body to shut up as I put the change in the machine and pulled my bottled water out of the slot.
  I turned around to leave the building but stopped in my tracks when I saw him standing behind me.

  I raised my eyebrow, "Hey," I greeted.

  He stared at me for a second, "Hey," he offered his hand, which I took.

  "I'm Bailey," I said, letting go of his hand.

  He nodded, "Tristan," he replied. "I'll see you next week?"

  I nodded and he smiled at me, turning and heading down the hall. Huh. I walked out of the office and got into my car, a beat-up old Volkswagen. I brushed my hair out of my eyes and put my seat-belt on, starting the car.

  I tightly wrapped my fingers around the steering wheel and closed my eyes, "You're not gonna die, you're not gonna die, you're not gonna die," I muttered to myself.

  I put it in gear and pulled out of the parking lot.

...

  I pulled into the garage, turning the car off and unbuckling my seat-belt. I opened the car door and got out of the car. Making my way across the garage, I pushed the button on the remote on the wall to shut the garage door. I turned the doorknob, stepping into the kitchen of my home.

  "I'm home!" I shouted to my dad.

  I heard his footsteps coming down the stairs. He jogged into the kitchen as I opened the refrigerator door, "Hey, sunshine," he greeted me.

  "Hey, Dad," I replied, leaning down to grab a bottle of water out of the drawer.

  "How was therapy?"

  I unscrewed the cap of my water, "It was therapy."

  He pulled a bar-stool away from the island and sat down, motioning for me to sit with him. I walked around the bar and sat on the stool beside him, putting my water down on the counter. He smiled at me. Sigh.

  "How are you doing today, Bailey? Okay?"

  I nodded. I knew he only did this because he cared, I knew everyone only did it because he cared, but the monotony irritated me sometimes.

  I gently patted his shoulder, "I have homework, dad."

...

  I shut my bedroom door behind me and flipped the light switch off. I plopped down on my bed with a sigh. I pulled my shoes off and leaned back against my pillow, pulling my legs up and curling into a ball. I fell asleep like that at some point, even though I had no recollection of it. I was startled awake by my father knocking on my bedroom door. Sitting up, I rubbed my eyes.

  "Yeah?"

  He opened the door just a crack, sticking his head through. "Did I wake you?"

  "Yeah. It's fine."

  I saw the worry flash across his expression, quickly turning back to neutrality. "Dinner's ready."

  I bit the inside of my lip and heard my stomach growl softly. "I'm not really hungry, dad. Just kinda tired. Is it okay if I just head to bed?"

  He frowned, and I heard him sigh. "Yeah, sure. Feel better."

  With that, he shut my door. I laid back down and rolled over, pulling my blankets over me. I closed my eyes and stayed there, like that, for a while. I faded away eventually into a dreamless sleep.

...

  My eyes fluttered open, the sound of my alarm seeming distant. I rubbed my eyes and felt around my bedside table for my phone, pressing the power button to silence my alarm. I got out of bed and stretched, reaching for my ceiling. I looked at the mirror across the room. I pulled the hem of my shirt up to my chest, turning to the left and then the right. I rubbed my stomach, my long fingers brushing across my ribcage, and frowned. I turned back to face my reflection and stood straight with my feet together. I saw the bookcase behind me the tiny crack between my thighs. I bit my lip, smiling slightly.

  I dropped my shirt, walking up to the mirror and opening the door it was hung on. I pulled a plain black hoodie out of my closet, tossing it onto the bed. I shut the closet door and shuffled to my dresser, pulling out a tank-top and a pair of light wash jeans. I dressed quickly, throwing the hoodie on over the top. I bent over, pulling the ponytail off of my wrist to put my jet black hair in a bun. I grabbed my backpack off of the office chair pushed under my desk and shoving my phone into my back pocket. I slipped my feet into my sneakers on the way out of my bedroom door, bending down briefly to tie them. I jogged down the stairs and stopped in the kitchen to grab a water and a banana out of the fruit bowl. I walked out the door and got into my car. I sighed, not wanting to go to school. Peeling my banana and taking a small bite off the top, I put the car into gear and pulled out of the garage, beginning my 20-minute drive to my place of education.