The Locker Diary

Chapter 2 - The Transformation

One month later…

            “Ryan!" Mom called out from the kitchen. She was worried for me. I hadn’t showered in almost a week. My room reeked of a nasty odor called “sweat, feet, and heartbreak”.  I guess I was taking this whole getting-dumped pretty rough.

                “What?' I asked. She came downstairs to my room.

                “Ew!" She squealed. "What is that disturbing smell? I can’t believe you have survived this stench."

              "Mom, it's not even that bad," I argued.

             "No human could possibly live like this, "I’m worried about you Ry. You have to go out with your friends again."

            “Mom I just want to stay here ‘til I die”, I respond with no emotion what’s so ever.

            “Ugh!" Mom gasps, "How can you say that? You’re going to get your butt up right now! Ryan this is no way to live life. This is a way too young age to be living in heartbreak."

            “No!" I respond back. "Just leave me alone!"

            “Get up now before I whip your butt with my sandal!" Mom yells with a threatening voice.

            I hate when she uses the sandal method. Her sandals are not just any sandals. They are the ones with hard heels. They were especially made for moms, so that they can blackmail us into doing something we don’t want to do. It’s not like I was afraid of it. Would you risk getting hit with sandals that have heels? …Yeah I didn’t think so.

            “Ryan!" Mom yelled again,  "I’m going to count to three! One… She started counting. Two…"

            “I’m going Mom!" I screamed.

            As I was walking upstairs into the kitchen, I saw the shadows of three dimwitted boys, Tripp, Alejandro, and Malik. Ugh...Mom wasn’t kidding when she said, "she would make me hang out with the guys again." I didn’t think she would call them out. How embarrassing. I didn’t want them to feel sympathy towards me. They’re my guy friends. They were not supposed to carry those feelings around. Were supposed to lock them in a box and burry it six feet underground.

        But I guess my mom has good strategies. She bribed the boys with food. They would do anything for food. They’re worse than prostitutes.

        I walked into the kitchen and everybody laid eyes on me. I don’t understand how this is ever going to make me feel better about my breakup. If anything it’s feeling a whole lot worse.

        I hate pity. It drives me insane. I hate it when you’re at the store and you think you counted your money right, but then you realize that’s why you failed Math two times. You’re only off by a few coins. Then, the cash register gives you this look of pity and says, “don’t worry about it." Ugh…I hate that phrase. I feel like they’re just judging you, thinking that you’re a homeless kid who can’t afford anything.

        “Ryan," Mom says. I’m pleased to see that you finally got out of that stink hole you were living in." She smiles and continues to wash dishes.

        “Ew Ryan… why do you stink like shit?" asked Tripp. Mom gives him a that-was-inappropiate kind of look and Tripp starts feeling guilty. “Sorry Mrs. Wilkinson," he apologizes. Mom despises profanity.

         “Boys Ryan is going through a tough time and he needs a little help getting back on his feet," says Mom, "Can I count on you boys to help him get out of this phase?"