Anything But Normal

Chapter 2

I rake my sweaty hands through the tangled mop on top of my head that is my hair in an attempt to get it out of my face. And then I sigh. I know why people sigh so much now. It lets you let out your emotions in the most harmless way. Mine contains all the frustration and anger and hatred towards what Mr. Dorn just said without actually having to put it into words, thus keeping me out of more trouble than I am already in.

I know my voice will be shaky, but I speak anyway. "You know I cannot do that, Mr. Dorn. You know why." I refuse to elaborate because I am positive that if I speak one more time, my voice will give way to tears and I really do not want to be a sobbing mess in front of the principal.

I always thought I was so confident, but in reality it only takes a few words to completely break me down.

He sighs. I swear ninety percent of our conversations are just different types of sighs. "You have left me no other choice, Jessica. I have tried. Time and time again I have tried. I have tried so much and I expect you to try as hard as I do. I am helping you. You need to help yourself, too."

My weakness is instantly replaced my anger. "Don't you dare tell me that I am not trying! Do you think I asked to be like this? Do you think I want to feel stupid every single day? Do you think I want everyone to judge me because I cannot sit still or tell the difference between left and right? I try. I try too damn hard only to have it blow up in my face!" I practically screech.

Mr. Dorn is left speechless. Good, he should be.

After a few awkward moments in which neither of us say anything I get up to leave. Mr. Dorn reaches across his old, mahogany table to grab me by the wrist. "I'm sorry, but what I have said is final. I know you cannot help your conditions, but I need to keep order at this school. And I cannot treat you in a different way. Understand?"

I can't help but cringe at the word "conditions". It makes me sound like I am some sort of freak. Then again, I probably am. I pull my arm away quickly and glare at him before muttering. "Whatever."

I hastily make my way out of the room before the principal has any chance to call me back in. My eyes begin to dart from locker to locker, face to face, book to book, and I feel everyone's eyes on me. I want to scream. Stop staring at me. I swear to god I'm normal. I start to feel out of breath. Oh god, oh god no. Not here, not now. I find the nearest bathroom and force my fumbling fingers to lock the stall door. My head is spinning and I lean involuntarily against the door as my legs fail to support my weight. I want to throw up and I try to force myself to, but it doesn't work. And then realization hits. I'm having a panic attack. At school. I am such a fuck up.

I wish I wasn't this way. I wish I didn't get anxiety attacks. I wish I didn't have dyslexia. I wish I didn't have ADHD. I wish I was able to control my body the way normal people do. But sometimes just wishing isn't enough. So, instead of telling people my "conditions" I just let people think that I'm slow or impatient or just stupid. This seems to make sense to people seeing as I'm put in some lower level classes.

My breathing is still heavy and my mind is swarming with a billion thoughts, even though I try to keep it blank. I'm clawing at my hair and wiping my eyes furiously in an attempt to get rid of my dizziness. I now remember that I am wearing mascara and must look like a raccoon because of the sweat on my face and the way I constantly rubbed my eyelids. That should be the least of my concerns right now, but it isn't. My head is pounding and I feel like giving up. Giving up everything I already don't have.

I don't have anxiety attacks as often as I used to. I used to have them every day, now I get them about once a week, more if I have tests or a particularly stressful weekend.

My breathing returns to normal and I breathe a sigh of relief. There it is again. The universal sigh. I sigh at the thought of sighing again.

As I'm sitting on the cold and frankly disgusting bathroom floor my subconscious reminds me that I have to get to class. Struggling to get to my feet and battling the want to just stay on the floor and wait for school to end I hesitantly open the door and peek my head outside. No one is there. Thank god no one heard me thrashing and screaming on the bathroom floor. I don't need more people judging me as it is.

I slowly walk over to the nearest sink and turn on the water trying to take as much time as I possibly can. I wash my face and wipe underneath my eyes. As I stare at my reflection I have the sudden urge to break the mirror. I force myself to stare at myself. I'm not pretty. At all. I have never felt pretty all my life. I have never felt smart. Or successful. Or witty. Or anything else except like a big fucking mistake.

I remember that the water is still on and I reach to turn it off. The knob breaks at the slightest touch of my fingertips causing the cold water to spray on my shirt. I hate this school. And the fact that it can't afford shit. Without thinking (go figure) I yell, "Fix this damn faucet! Ugh!" I grab the knob and in my anger throw it against the mirror as hard as I can causing it to shatter. "And the mirror!"

I drop the knob into the trash and walk out of the bathroom letting the faucet continue spewing water on the stall.

The next class I have is Spanish and judging by the time I am twenty minutes late already. I try to walk faster knowing that another tardy will result in a call home, but I convince myself it doesn't matter anymore. I mean, I'm already late as it is.

I reach the door and just stare at it. As much as I try to tell my arm to move and open the goddamn door I can't get it to even lift. I strongly debate just turning around and ditching my classes for the rest of the day. And right as I turn around to run to my car I hear someone shuffle behind me and stiffen immediately. First the outburst with Mr. Hyde, then the whole choking incident with Mr. Dorn, the panic attack, then the freaking faucet, and now getting caught twenty minutes late to a class by a teacher? I cannot handle how sucky this day has been so far.

"Are you gonna go in or..?" someone who is obviously not a teacher or faculty member asks.

I turn around to be confronted by a guy who looks around my age. My manners, or whatever dignity I have left, force me not to completely faint or stare open-mouthed at the boy. He is hot. Beyond hot: with sand colored hair, deep blue eyes, a well-built body, and a smile that makes my heart melt. I remember that he asked me a question, but before I can answer, the first thing I thought comes out of my mouth. "Who the fuck are you?" I say ruder than I had expected to. In my mind it sounded more sexy and flirtatious than accusatory.

Apparently what I said caught him off guard as well. He chuckles slightly, obviously nervous. Oh my god, he is perfect. "I well... Uhm... I'm new. I just, I'm kinda lost, but I think this is my next class and I'm late so..."

My cheeks heat up, having a mind of their own, seemingly apologizing for my rudeness earlier. "Yeah, sorry, this is my next class, too. I'm Jessica." I say holding out my hand hesitantly.

He smiles slightly. "Jake." He returns the gesture and shakes my hand, a little bit more at ease than he was before. I notice how long I was holding his hand and quickly pull away. Why am I such an embarrassment? "Do you... Want to get out of here?" he asks after a moment surprising me.