Remedial

This is a Story About a Girl Named Lucky

   Amy tapped her chin, looking away from Zowie. "Why do you think you reacted that way?"

   "Because I'm mentally ill."

   The therapist chuckled and looked into her faint blue eyes. "Zowie, you don't know what to do when your feelings make you uncomfortable. You sit there and ignore them. And then you bottle them up until you explode. Then, the cycle starts all over again."

  Zowie sat with her analysis for a minute. "That makes sense," she mumbled. "I guess I don't know how to express my emotions."

  "Oh, but you do," Amy disagreed. She moved a strand of blonde hair away from her face. "You just don't take any of my advice. You have the tools, but you choose not to use them."

  Zowie didn't say anything. That wasn't true, was it? Her glance stayed at her own feet. She couldn't come up with a response. She was feeling defensive but remained defenseless. Amy hadn't given her any tools, she thought. Zowie was in denial.

  "Maybe we can go over those tools again," she offered. "You may need a refresher."

  "I guess."

  "That's the problem, Zow. You don't want to change anything about yourself. You're unmotivated, but you act like you want to change. You need to start being honest with yourself."

  "Yeah," she responded, clearly uninterested.

   "Is there anything else you want to talk about?" Amy questioned.

  Zowie hesitated, but decided to share her experience."Erm, I thought I saw James yesterday."

   "Where?" Her tone of voice changed.

  "By this restaurant. It wasn't him though. But, I got really scared. And the rest of the day was really terrible." Zowie paused to take a deep breath. "I was so on edge. I was scared, then mad, then scared again. At the end, I was really depressed." Zowie started fumbling with her sweaty hands. Her body became tense and she had to start breathing through her nose.

  "I'm so sorry. What did you after you though you saw him?"

  "I just kept talking to Ephigenia. But after I left, I went to ride the bus back home. I was really mad there. Mad at random people on the bus. On the walk home, I was frightened and I felt like I was carrying something around with me- something so heavy and vicious- that I felt like I couldn't make it home. Like I was going to collapse."

   "Zowie, that's so scary. I know the way you were feeling was terrible. Do you know what that heavy thing was?"

   "That's what I can't figure out," she stated, meekly. "I don't know if it was my anxiety and fear or if it was my relationship with him." Zowie looked away, keeping herself from crying. She bit the tips her fingers and tried to think of something frivolous.

   "What happened when you got home?"

   "I cried. The usual."

  Therapy ended with Zowie shutting down and not letting Amy help her.

   At home, she curled up onto her knees and her emotions went numb. But her uterus did not. She had an appointment with her healthcare provider on Wednesday, hoping to change to another birth control. Her period had brought her so many types of pain. The emotional pain her friend had referred to, along with physical pain, and social pain. It represented humiliating events in her life. Zowie's attention deterred when she received a text message.

Diana: Are u free friday?

Zowie rolled her eyes, already knowing what her friend was talking about. She thought about chucking her phone, but decided not to follow her impulse.

Zowie: I don't know yet. 

Diana: Catalda is having a party at 8! antwon, alec, and ephi are gonna be there!

Zowie: IK. Ephi already told me about it. Friday isn't here yet, so i don't know.

Diana: If u have hw or studying to do u can literally just do it on saturday or sunday

Zowie: ig

Diana: Please go! i want to hang out with u

Zowie: We'll see.

Zowie tossed her phone down and rolled her eyes once more. Why couldn't her friends just back off? Why couldn't Diana back off? Diana was more insistent with Zowie getting out the house than anyone. Diana, an aspiring electrician, could be a bit tough on Zowie. Yet, that was her typical nature. The Colombian girl had an intense presence that demanded respect. Her authoritative, yet humble personality made her an excellent leader. Not only was she president of the Robotics Club, she was a big protester as well. She could stir up emotions in her fellow classmates and invigorate them to fight for something. Zowie was a regular attendee at these crusades until she started locking herself in. 

   Zowie tried to rationalize her avoidance of her friends. She already had lunch with Ephigenia and saw her and Diana at school. When it came to Alec and Antwon, there was a complication. She hadn't seen neither of them in two weeks. She hadn't contacted them in that time period as well. Zowie groaned, realizing that she was going to have to go to the party to avoid losing half of her friends. 

   She dragged herself out of bed and stumbled to the small kitchen. She set the front, left stovetop on medium and pulled a pan from one of the many bottom cabinets. Olive oil from a sacramento green glass bottle hit the pan's interior. Zowie found a bag of frozen mixed vegetables and Gardein crispy tenders in the cramped freezer. While cooking her quick and simple meal, Zowie had a million thoughts pacing through her mind. Why am I so depressed? She shifted the food around. There's nothing wrong with my life. I have friends. I do well in school. I'm not in debt. 

   Zowie graduated high school with a 4.3 GPA and got a full-ride scholarship, avoiding student loans. Her high school record was impressive. Many college-level classes, diverse clubs, and envious grades caught the eye. In college, she was still an overachiever, but dropped the clubs. Her high school career was filled with never-ending studying and this habit transferred to college. It was also a really good excuse. 

   I have a nice apartment, nice parents, and a great job. She reached in the spice cabinet and grabbed black pepper, turmeric, italian seasoning, and nutritional yeast. Zowie was ashamed. She had such a privileged life, yet, was till self-pitying. I treat my friends like shit.  Zowie turned the stovetop off. She moved the pan over and retrieved a bowl and spoon. She sorrowfully scooped her dinner into her blue striped bowl. The chair squeaked when it was pulled out. The weary girl tried to see the bright side of things. Maybe she would have fun at the party. Maybe she would have fun spending time with her quartet of friends.

"Dinner for one."