The Art Of Not Caring

n i n e

For the first time in forever I felt great. I shut my door behind me and fell onto my bed, a huge grin on my face.

Tessa and I had ended up staying at the cabin for a few hours more, sitting on the bed and talking about everything that came to mind just nothing about school. I'd learned that, like me, she was an only child and had lived in a few bigger cities before but never in a small town. Apparently her mom was an author and wanted a nice calm place to write her new novel. She didn't seem to mind and as far as I could tell was content staying here for now. Her parents sounded pretty cool actually, letting Tessa do almost everything she wanted, even though I didn't quite understand how they could keep living here even though Tessa was clearly being bullied. I didn't ask though and Tessa didn't ask more about my last few weeks either.

I hadn't thought of school or what was expecting me at school Monday all day and even now it seemed far away and not as important. Not even the short conversation with my mom, which was basically me evading questions about where I had been could ruin my mood. I almost felt bad about how easy it was for me to lie to my mom. She was strict, sure, but more in a concerned way and she did trust me most of the time. After all, it was just the two of us. We used to be a team, talking about everything and acting more like friends than anything else. That had ended a while ago though.

My brain didn't allow me to linger on that topic too long. Even though I hadn't done anything insane, I was still feeling high on the excitement of the afternoon. Still feeling content, I picked up Pride and Prejudice and started reading. Reading a love story - or in this case a story that happens to feature a love story - hadn't seemed all that appealing in the last few days but right now... right now it seemed perfectly fine. Before I knew it, I was engrossed in the book once again, so occupied with Elizabeth and Darcy that I forgot everything else and only my possibly foolish feeling of everything would turn out okay lingered.

For the second day in a row I was ringing on Tessa's doorbell and just like the first time, I was still nervous. This time, I had asked her if we could meet again and to my relief she had said yes immediately. We had even agreed on a time this time, which spared me the endless inner debate of what showing up early or late would say about me. Well, I was still asking myself those questions as I waited for the door to open at 3pm on the dot. I was also hoping that Tessa hadn't seen me linger in front of her house for about forty seconds, just to avoid being early.

My thoughts were interrupted by the door being opened, but not by Tessa. Her mom, a younger woman with sparkling eyes, and an attitude similarly positive and uplifting as Tessa's stood before me and welcoming me inside.

"You must be Avery! We've already heard so much about you, common in!" I marvelled at how similar Tessa and her mom were. Tessa was taller, more athletic and had a lighter complexion as her mom but it was obvious that they were related.

"Nothing too bad I hope." I said, only partly joking. There weren't just positive things that Tessa could have said about me, even though I was incredibly embarrassed by the way I'd thought of her only a few weeks ago.

"Don't be silly dear, you're an angel according to Tessa." I just knew that my face was turning an impossible shade of red and I hurriedly took off my shoes and put them next to the ones already standing next to the door. 
"And apparently she wasn't exaggerating." She continued. Now that I didn't have anything to do I stood and looked around. I was standing in a small entrance area that opened up to the living room and an adjacent kitchen. The living room was a mix between modern and bohemian, white walls and furniture that was either white, black or some kind of earthy color. The couch was huge and covered in pillows, the walls were full of art of various styles. And there were books everywhere. Where every other house I had visited had a TV, this house had a bookshelf, completely stacked with books in no apparent order. Apparently the shelf had overflowed, since little stacks of books decorated the coffee table, the area next to the couch and armchair and every other surface.