Palindrome

Three

Chapter 3

Depression.

It's a word thrown around casually these days. Having any kind of mental condition, especially anxiety and depression- these are common now. But you don't see people throwing around the word schizophrenia around now do you?

It irks me so much when people consider a good cry equivalent to a mental breakdown. Being nervous for a test does not mean you had an anxiety attack. If you're sad for a week because you broke up with your boyfriend of three weeks then that doesn't equal depression.

I don't indulge in self-diagnosing myself. I'm not beyond the powers of WebMD though. A part of me feels that at least if there's a term to the way I'm feeling followed by some subsequent treatment then everything will be alright.

The days might not drag on this long.

"Remind me again why I'm driving you to school?" I ask Paxton who slides into the passenger's seat.

"I believe it's in a repercussion of you endangering my life twice," he answers with a smile.

Tightening my grip on the steering wheel I say, "Right."

I knew the real reason for why I was driving him to school. Paxton's parents separated a few months ago, for a fresh start his mom had decided to move their family here. His mom was still figuring out how to manage everything on her own. Since our community is too close to qualify for a bus, Paxton needed a ride while she dropped off his younger sister.

Technically I'm not supposed to know any of this.

Ma had rattled all of this to Papa while I worked on my ap stats homework. I had my air pods in, so they assumed I was too engrossed in my music and math to pay attention.

Little do they know I no longer listen to music. Listening to music makes me miserable these days. I have enough of it in choir as it is. Which is why the car ride to school is filled with uncanny silence until Paxton clears his throat.

"So you don't listen to anything?" He asks.

"Nope," I reply, my eyes on the road.

"Why not?"

"Simply."

If he senses more to it he doesn't say anything.

Besides I'm sure he doesn't.

No one knows about the chaos reigning in my mind except me. All he's going to get is curt one-worded answers from me.

Paxton nods, staring out of the window instead. I think that I've won and that this ride is going to be peaceful. Famous last words. The quietness lasts for about a minute before he sits up straight and looks towards me.

"What's Lakeshore like?"

"Boring," I answer truthfully.

As a freshman I thought it was anything but. Those crowds of students waiting to swallow me up as they made their way to class. Black lockers that lined the hallways. Couples swinging their interlaced hands and sneaking in kisses before class began. Friends chattering loudly in groups as they walk the length of the school. All that rush felt monotonous then.

"For real?" he asks, unable to mask the disbelief in his voice.

"Haven't you been there for registration?" I retort before I can stop myself.

From the corner of my eye, I catch him smiling triumphantly. Slumping back in my leather seats, he runs a hand through his hair messing it up more.