Tumgik
#also you know how my psych teacher took my book yesterday to look at my encyclopedia and I shit my pants
parasolemn · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
[Image description: In the first image, Harry Du Bois, looking at Gaston Martin's sandwich, fails the check to ask if he can have it. Rhetoric says, "A man so principled about his sandwich calls for a principled approach. Time to get political." Harry, seeing his options, asks, "These options seem awfully fascist or communist - what if I don't wanna say them?" In the second image, Rhetoric takes Harry by the shoulders and tells him, "Say one of these communist or fascist things, or fuck off." Harry appears shocked. In the background, Volition raises a finger and says, "um". End ID.]
skilltober 3!! please forgive the mistakes (see: the fucked up text in the first image) my hands are sooo shaky lately so I'm blaming that. hyperfocusing on one spot without taking into consideration the rest of the image is also my specialty. i figured out why the lighting was weird in the last one though at least!!!
more rhetorics + my cat who decided to jump up and run away with my eraser in her mouth as soon as I had everything ready to take the photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
338 notes · View notes
Text
Dance With Me Under the Stars
@yeah-im-a-fae-deal-with-it, I hope you enjoy this! I had a lot of fun making it and I hope I did the wishes justice. Happy Holidays!! (Much of the imagery was based on the song Volcano by The Vamps.)
@sanderssidesgiftxchange
Word Count: 3993
It was mid semester and Virgil had arrived late to class for the first time in his three years of college. He hurried in quietly, taking his usual seat and pulling his books out. Almost shamefully, he grabbed his homework and walked between the desks to put it on the teacher’s.
He must have had the worst luck in the world as, just then, she turned around. “Ah, Mr. Storm. I was wondering when you’d show up.” Her tone was kind, no note of malice anywhere.
Virgil nodded. “I forgot to set my alarm.” His voice was quiet, barely reaching past the professor.
She nodded with a smile that seemed genuine. “Go back to your seat, please. Just as discussed yesterday, you’ll be debating Mr. Croft in a few minutes.”
Virgil trudged back to his seat, slipping past the others to sit in his usual corner. Feeling eyes on him, he looked up to find Logan Croft, a double major in zoology and astronomy who was taking this class for fun, staring at him with an unreadable expression. Virgil ignored him, turning back to his notebook and doodling in the margins as he waited for the professor to finish taking attendance.
He got through half the page before he was being called up to debate, as per usual. He and Croft were only put against each other as examples or if the lecture finished early. This was mainly due to them both being stubborn in their ways and being able to debate things for hours. Thus, they were both called into her office the day before to confirm the topic and style of the debate.
There they stood, on opposite sides of the same plain. It was a familiar position for the pair during their debates. While many would have seen a peaceful place within that plain, maybe even a spot to build something, the two students only saw a battlefield with the fight yet to be fought, yet to be won. Their words danced across the plain, leaving wounds that didn’t mean a thing outside of that moment. A struggle for dominance raged before, as it always did, they came to be equals that saw eye to eye.
Their debate lasted for the first half of class before they came to some sort of agreement on their topic and sat down to listen to the teacher give a lecture on what just happened. After class, Croft caught up with Virgil on his way out. “That was a good debate today, Storm.” He said. The battlefield was back to a plain, nothing special about it.
Virgil looked at him briefly before just shrugging and walking up the stairs. He didn’t bother to look back or wonder why the student who usually avoided him unless it was during these debates was talking to him. He just knew he needed to get to class.
A day later, he was running to dance class and missed a step. Crashing down the stairs, he landed at the bottom in a haze of pain. He tried to move but found that his vision was blurry and his ankle was broken. Someone nearby gave a shout and he heard footsteps on the stairs. A hand landed on his shoulder and he flinched, coming face to face with the person who lived across the hall from him.
“Virgil, what happened?” Emile said, eyes looking concerned.
The dancer didn’t even lie to the psychology major he knew only in passing. “I fell.” He shook his head, trying to get his vision to focus on something, anything. “My ankle hurts.”
Emile nodded and moved to look at it. Gently pressing, he inspected the joint. Virgil hissed when he pressed on it and Emile sat back. “Yep, that’s broken.” Sighing, he moved to help Virgil to his feet, throwing the dancer’s arm over his shoulders. “I’ve got time before my next class so I’ll take you to the nurse before I go tell you’re dance teacher you won’t be able to make it today.”
Virgil shook his head, hobbling along beside him. “No, I’ll tell her later.”
Emile frowned. “You know Professor Kim is not going to be happy about this development. She was counting on you being there through the whole semester.”
Virgil just laughed, shaking his head. “Since when do you talk with her?”
“Since I came to drop off your lunch that day and she was the only one there. We struck up a conversation about you.”
Virgil nodded. “Fair.”
Emile pushed the door open and sat Virgil in the nurse's office before leaving with a wave, tossing an, “I’ll be back in a bit,” over his shoulder. Virgil waited for the nurse to come and diagnose him, soon being rolled out on a gurney on his way to the hospital to get a cast on his broken ankle. He’d also been told that he had a concussion but that wasn’t the main concern.
A few days later, debate class was back in session and Virgil was there in a cast, crutches by his side. Croft came in and eyed the crutches before setting his bag by his usual chair. He didn’t sit down as Virgil thought he would, rather coming over to stand by Virgil’s seat. He nodded his chin at the cast. “What happened there?”
Virgil was taken aback by the care in his voice, a voice that had previously remained so neutral while talking to him that it was borderline monotone. He shrugged as he continued to grab his books out of his bag. “I fell.”
Croft raised his eyebrows, looking about as convinced as he would if Virgil had just told him the sky was magenta. “You fell? Why don’t I buy that, Storm?”
Virgil shook his head. “I don’t know why you wouldn’t believe the truth, Croft.”
He huffed, his eyes melting into the concern that was evident in his voice. Opening his mouth, he seemed to be about to say something but thought better of it, going to sit down instead just as the professor walked in. She paused by his desk. “Professor Kim told me about the ankle. You don’t have to debate for the rest of the semester if you don’t feel up to it.”
Virgil shook his head. “Standing won’t be a problem as long as I have the crutches.”
She nodded. “Still, I’d like to let you rest for a bit.”
Virgil shrugged. “I’m fully capable of standing and debating but I’ll follow your lead on this.” She gave a final nod and moved to stand at the front of the room to begin class.
Thus, six weeks went by. Virgil did essays on dance and movement instead of performing the dances. Professor Kim insisted on recording the lessons so he’l still be able to do them when he’s recovered, which he was immensely grateful for. Debate class went similarly in that he wasn’t called up as often to debate Croft anymore. Instead, he wrote most of his debates as argumentive papers.
That summer, Virgil stayed on campus. He wasn’t taking a summer course, he was simply trying to follow the videos Professor Kim left for him. He lived nearby anyways so it made sense to keep using the studio on campus. That’s how he ended up running into Croft again on the stairs. 
“Oh,” the other student said, bag in hand as he was clearly trying to put his books back in it, “I didn’t expect you to be here.”
Virgil smiled, holding up the gym bag that had replaced his book bag. “The studio is allowing me to catch up on my dance lessons over the summer.” He paused. He and Croft had never been too cordial with each other, merely remaining civil. However, toward the end of the semester they'd come to some sort of academic truce. Now, they were just normal strangers, just two students. So, Virgil took a chance. “What about you? Why are you still here?”
Croft finally shoved the last book into his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. “I’m having to retake a class due  to low grades.” He shook his head. “I just can’t grasp the subject.”
“What is it?”
Croft sighed. “Psychology.”
Virgil nodded and, on a whim, gave an offer. “I passed Psych with flying colors if you want me to tutor you?”
That plain, that had once been a battlefield before lying dormant, became a meadow in that one moment. No longer a place for duels or violence, but peace and healing. Their once shaky truce seemed to settle, becoming something more permanent, as Croft smiled. “Yeah, I’d like that.”
They walked side by side as they discussed times and tactics for studying. They concluded that their only overlapping free time was directly after Virgil was finished with dance practice as that was when Croft got out of his classes and clubs but before Virgil had to go to Professor Kim’s office for office hours.
So, the very next day saw Virgil walking out of the shower room, towel he’d been drying his hair with still in hand, to see Croft leaning against the wall in the hall. “I wasn’t expecting you for another fifteen minutes or so.” Virgil said as he approached.
Croft looked up from the book in his hand. He briefly glanced at the page number before snapping it shut and picking up his bag. “Apologies, I like to be early.”
Virgil just waved his hand as they fell in step beside each other. “It’s fine. Next time, you don’t have to wait in the hall if I’m not in the shower, you can just sit in the room. As long as you’re quiet, you’ll be fine.”
Croft nodded. “Noted, thank you.”
They made it to the library and sat down, both pulling out books. When Croft gave Virgil a puzzled look, he laughed a bit. “I’ve brought my notes and blank copies of homework to use as practice problems. First, I want to gauge just how bad off you are.” he set down the cumulative final review. “Fill this out to the best of your ability.” Croft set to work, a serious expression on his face. Virgil didn’t want to twiddle his thumbs while waiting so he pulled out his phone and opened it to a new note, beginning to plan out his evening.
Once that was done, he looked up to see Croft with his tongue sticking out slightly, hair in his eyes, and eyes focused on the page. Strangely, there was something beautiful about the concentrated look on his face. Maybe it was the way the sunlight dramatized it and cast his eyes into shadows, making Virgil want to stare until he could see where the iris ended and the pupil began; maybe it was the way his hair framed his face in a way that made Virgil want to pull out a sketchbook.
Feeling self conscious at that thought, he looked back down at his phone and ignored the other student until he heard a pencil connect with the table. “Alright, Storm, I’m done.”
Virgil nodded and slid the page over to himself, quickly checking it against the answer sheet he’d made up. He gave Croft a grade, circled it, and slid it back. A sharp intake of breath came back as Virgil pulled a clean piece of paper closer to himself and began to write down what needed to be worked on.
“Is it really that bad?” Croft’s voice came from Virgil’s side.
He paused in his writing to look up at his former academic rival. He shrugged. “It could be worse. You don’t seem to be too bad off right now and we’re gonna try to get you to where you need to be as soon as possible.”
Croft nodded and away they went. The next few weeks were spent in a new routine. Croft would wait in the hall if Virgil was in the shower but most times Virgil had lost track of time and gone over, resulting in Croft sitting in the corner reviewing definitions. A few times, one of his clubs wouldn’t meet and he’d get out earlier than normal. Those were the times that Croft would sit in and make sure Virgil wasn’t putting too much strain on his ankle and was properly hydrating. Those were the times they’d strike up a bit of witty banter that reminded them of their debates but on a personal level that the debate class was lacking.
One step at a time, they came closer on that meadow until they were standing side by side, leaning on the other. As they grew closer, the meadow rose as if two tectonic plates were pushing it toward the sky. Over the course of that one season, the meadow had become a mountain of a friendship. Their banter began to spread outside of just those rare moments, becoming a constant part of their meetings, tutor sessions, and walks. 
It wasn’t long before the summer semester ended and they had a few weeks of vacation before the next semester. As the days shortened and the leaves turned colors, Virgil almost expected Croft to go on his way. After all, the agreement was done. Virgil had finished learning all the moves he’d needed and Croft had passed his classes with the usual flying colors. 
Still, tutor sessions turned into chats over coffee, dancing changed to walks in the park, but their late night talks on the way back to their apartment building stayed the same. Virgil enjoyed that constant, knowing that no matter what else happened that day, he could walk back to the apartment building with Croft. It was one such walk that it struck him. In all their time together, he’d gotten closer to Croft and no longer saw him as the academic rival they’d been at the start of the year. Instead, he saw him as a friend, or even more than that.
Just when Virgil was satisfied and comfortable with the balance they’d created together, fate tossed a spark gently onto the mountain. In that instance, the mountain turned into a volcano. In that one instant of time, Virgil had fallen for Logan Croft and he knew with absolute certainty that he wouldn’t have it any other way. He had no idea how he’d tell him, or even if he would tell him. After all, volcanoes can stay dormant for years before going extinct or erupting. Virgil could just wait and hope it was the former or deal with the latter.
The next few weeks were much the same as that with the exception that Virgil was noticing every little thing that Logan did. He noticed the way he leaned toward Virgil as they talked, the way his focus was entirely on the dancer during conversations. Logan was always walking on Virgil’s left side, the ankle he’d broken mid spring semester that acted up occasionally but especially on stairs. He noticed Logan holding doors for him or smiling at him for no particular reason.
All of this gave Virgil a spark of hope in his chest that had him wondering if Logan liked him back. That spark was almost crushed one afternoon. They had just gotten their coffee and started their usual round about the park when Logan spoke. “I might not be able to do the full rotation today, Storm. I’ve got a date with Roman later.”
Virgil felt like his chest had just been stomped on. “. . . A date?” He didn’t know how he kept his voice steady when his heart was breaking, getting closer and closer to shattering the more he thought about those two words.
Logan tilted his head to the sides. “Maybe ‘date’ is the wrong word for it. It’s more like a meet-up.”
Virgil nodded, pretending he hadn’t been holding his breath through that whole exchange. “Okay, when do you have to leave?”
“About half an hour.” He turned and smiled. “Plenty of time.”
Virgil smiled and walked ahead, turning to face Logan as he walked backwards. Logan shook his head. “That’s not the safest way to travel, you know.”
Virgil just shrugged. “There’s worse ways to travel.” He also got to see the rare grin that spread across the zoology major’s face, not that he would tell said student that.
Their walk in the park ended with them standing at the entrance. “I’ll see you later, Storm.” Logan said by way of parting.
“Wait! Later as in tomorrow or later as in-”
He laughed, something that was even more rare than his grin but something Virgil longed to hear more often. “Later today.” Virgil nodded, walking back to his apartment alone.
On a whim, he grabbed his gym bag, stuffing his dance shoes in it, and went to the studio. He scrolled through his playlist as he entered before just hitting shuffle and letting the music play as he got ready. He waited for the next song and took a second to identify it before throwing his hoodie off and moving to the center of the room. 
He went with the music, letting his body flow in whatever way it wanted. Incorporating all the moves he’d learned over the past few months into a cohesive whole that was both as graceful as saplings in the wind but as sharp as the flapping of cloth. He danced to forget his troubles and anxieties, letting them bleed into the movements. A faster song came on and he changed his movements to match, becoming sharper as he let himself get lost in the music, lost to the beat of his feet against the floor, the feeling of the air on his sweat, the feeling of dancing and being free and feeling on top of the world.
When the playlist ended and his muscles were screaming for him to rest, he collapsed onto the floor, panting for breath. When he felt like he could stand, he moved to check his phone clock and found that he’d spent the whole afternoon dancing. Quickly, he showered and made his way back to his apartment. He was still overheated after dancing for a few hours straight so he just had his hoodie slung over his arm, his gym bag over his other shoulder.
He got back to his apartment to see Logan with a fist raised to knock. Smiling, he moved around him and unlocked it. “Come on in.” He dropped his keys in the little bowl on the entrance way table. “I’ve just gotta put this stuff away but it won’t be long.”
Logan smiled, standing comfortably in the entryway. “Take your time, Storm, I’m not going anywhere.” 
For a brief moment, Virgil wondered what his first name would sound like in Logan’s voice. He didn’t dwell on it, instead he nodded, ducking into his bedroom to store his bag where it belonged. Taking a second to put on some extra deodorant and move his hair around so it looked semi-styled instead of the mess it was before, he took a deep breath. The scare of losing him that afternoon had made Virgil realize that he needed to act fast before he lost Logan for real.
So, he kept the hoodie across his arm as he went back out and picked up the keys again. “Ready to go?”
Logan nodded. “Quite.”
Virgil held the door open for him, locking it on his way out. They started down the path in relative silence, the only noise being the crunching of gravel beneath their feet and the sounds of life coming from nearby buildings. Virgil was hesitant to break the silence despite the feelings and words bubbling below his surface. Logan also seemed comfortable in the lack of conversation. They made it to a bench that was out of the way and sat on it to stargaze for a bit.
Virgil tilted his head back, resting it on the back of the bench. His eyes scanned the sky, resting on different stars and connecting them into constellations. After another while of silence, Logan shivered beside Virgil and the dancer turned his head, looking at the astronomy major. “Are you cold?” His voice broke the silence like a sheet of ice falling from a slope.
Logan shrugged. “A bit. I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”
Virgil hummed and threw his hoodie over the other. “No use in you getting cold when this is right here.”
Logan didn’t react beyond tilting his head down just the slightest bit. He hummed, taking a breath before speaking. “Apologies again for having to end our afternoon walk early.”
Virgil waved his hand. “It’s fine. In fact, it actually gave me time to think.”
Logan looked over at him, eyes inquisitive behind his square black frames. “What about?”
Virgil took a deep steadying breath of the night air before he turned to face Logan just a bit more on the bench. “About you, actually. I realized something when you said you had a date with Roman.”
Logan nodded, his gaze sharpening as his attention seemed to hone in on Virgil. “Okay.”
Virgil fiddled with the rips in his jeans, suddenly anxious. “I realized that if I didn’t act now, someone else might be walking by your side in the park, laughing with a coffee in hand. Someone else might have the door you knock on late at night when you can’t sleep, be the person you debate with over the phone into the early hours of the morning.” He took another deep breath, not looking up at the wonderful human sitting in front of him, the one who deserved the world. “I realized that I love you and can’t stand the thought of another person getting to hold your hand and kiss you goodnight.” He turned his head so he was staring out into the night rather than at Logan. “There, I said it. I love you. I love you so much my chest aches.”
Logan hummed in a way that Virgil couldn’t interpret before there was the rustling of fabric and Logan was kneeling before Virgil, one hand hovering near the dancer’s cheek. “I’m glad you told me as it makes what I’m going to say much easier.” Virgil’s eyes widened slightly, fearing the next thing to come past Logan's lips.
“I love you too. Honestly, I think I’ve loved you since the start of the fall semester. The way you helped me study, putting things into ways I can understand and bending over backwards to do so. The care you take with everything you do, the grace in your every move, the fire and passion you put into your dancing, I love all of you.”
Virgil couldn’t believe what he was hearing but his nerves settled when Logan’s soft expression didn't change, didn’t turn to a sneer, he didn’t laugh or mock Virgil. Elated, he leaned forward but paused before he could connect their lips. Logan smiled at the quiet ask for consent and leaned in with him, closing the distance and bringing him into a kiss. His hovering hand settled on Virgil’s cheek as Virgil’s hand came up to cradle the back of Logan’s neck, neither wanting to let go.
When they pulled apart, they were both smiling. Logan pulled the hoodie tighter around his shoulders before standing, offering a hand to Virgil to stand as well. An idea came to him and Virgil put his hand in his pocket, pulling his phone out to play a few ballads. “Dance with me under the stars?”
Logan grinned, sliding his hands to be around Virgil’s neck. “I’d love nothing more.”
So, the two did just that, dancing the hour away under the midnight stars. In the arms of the one they loved, the same person who had been their greatest enemy at the start of the year, neither could ask for a better way to spend their time.
165 notes · View notes
Text
ap psychology
anonymous asked:  Can I request readers putting all her studying off till the week before AP exams and she starts studying an unhealthy amount, like sometimes forgetting to eat all day because of it and even made herself sick from stress over it but reader refuses to complain because she did it to herself and Lydia's just there helping her review and making sure she takes time to care for herself ect? Bonus if Reader thinks she did bad and Lydia assuring her she did fine and has an 'i told you don't moment? 
anonymous asked: Totally didn't request that bc that's my situation-
for some reason when i tried to queue this w/ the original ask, tumblr wanted to put the cut in the ask and i couldn’t delete it
this is out of date now, but i was uninspired to write for a hella long time sorry. also! i’m going to draw from my experiences w/ ap this year, and the only ap exam i had to take was psych, so that’s also going to be the case for reader :)
also, i feel like my lydia is a bit out of character? idk it’ll probably take a while to get back to the way i used to write her.
1303 words
cw: femreader. food
you cursed under your breath. months ago, months! you told yourself you would start studying for your ap exam. you only had the one exam to study for, so you told yourself that if you just did a little bit everyday, you would be fine.
but here you were, about three days until your ap psychology exam, and you hadn’t studied any of it. you had hardly even watched the videos your teacher had posted as the digital learning content. but to be fair, the stuff he was talking about in them were the last unit or two of psych, and you wouldn’t have to worry about them, because you weren’t going to be tested on them.
you groaned and dragged your feet downstairs, to where you hid your backpack. the friday weeks ago, when your school told everyone that classes would go digital for a few weeks because of the coronavirus, your teacher had come prepared. he gave everyone that showed up to class, which, granted, wasn’t that many but still- a huge packet covering everything that you had studied this year. it was some forty pages long.
okay, it was, like, thirty five because you crossed out the pages about personality and disorders. which was a shame, because those are the units that everyone takes psychology to learn about. no one goes, “oh boy, i can’t wait to learn about how to test if a baby has depth perception!” or “i can’t wait to learn about all the different types of visual illusions!” but whatever.
you flipped to page thirty five, to see how many questions you were in for. just over 250, except that’s counting all the charts as individual questions. yeah, that makes sense. one and a half pages of listing what researchers discovered what is equivalent to answering which cortex of the brain processes visual stimuli.
wait a minute. lydia was also taking psych. studying sucks, but if you could do it with your girlfriend, that’d be so much less painful.
you texted her, “hey lyds, have u finished the psych packet yet?”
”yea i finished it yesterday, why?” she texted back almost immediately.
shit. looks like you’ll have to suffer through this alone. “nvm”
you looked at the time, 1:46. damn, already? it felt like you had only just woken up. you made yourself a coffee, and set up shop on the desk you have never used in your bedroom, with laptop open beside you. you planned on googling everything, rather than going through your notes, mostly because you forgot where you put them, but this would still take ages.
an hour passed, and you felt like you were dying on the inside. if you had to answer one more question about behavioral psych, you were going to scream. behavioral psych is by far the worst part of psychology! watson and skinner be damned! people are people not some computer code! people have feelings! you can’t just ignore them! and the feeling you were feeling right now was not a good one!
you wanted to stop, but you weren’t sure if you stopped now if you’d be able to finish the packet. so you kept on going.
you went another five hours, taking five minute tik tok breaks every hour to keep you sane. you looked at the clock, and realized you hadn’t eaten anything today. you grabbed a box of cheez-its and made your way back upstairs, and went back to work. this time, you ate a cheez-it every time you finished a question, or you filled out a row in a chart.
you didn’t know when you fell asleep, but you woke up in the morning with about half the packet filled out. considering the exam was in one day, and four-ish hours, you thought that was good.
as you made your morning coffee, you checked the messages lydia had sent you. “are you doing okay? normally we talk a lot but…” “wait, are you working on the study guide?” “y/n! please take breaks! remember! you need food!” “and water!”
you sent back, “if i eat my cheez-its, and i drink my coffee while i study, then i don’t have to take breaks.”
you went back to your desk, and plugged your phone in across the room so you wouldn’t be distracted. but also because you forgot to charge it before you passed out, so it was at three percent, because apparently you had kept it open to tik tok all night, and the video just kept looping. oops.
for a while, the studying seemed easier. you felt like you had less to do, and you didn’t need to worry about getting it done in time, because you had more than enough of it. but because you didn’t need to rush, you became more productive.
you finished the second half of the packet by six that evening. you do admit, you got a bit lazy in the last few pages, but it was done!
shit. studying isn’t just writing stuff down, you have to read it over, right? you don’t really study that much.
but you decided to take an hour or two’s break for… breakfast? dinner? maybe even lunch? whatever, leftover pizza, because you had just only now just realized the intense rumbling in your stomach.
you checked your phone for the first time in hours. you were actually kind of proud of yourself. you usually were on your phone every waking hour, which was probably a problem, but you had shown enormous restraint… by spending every waking hour staring at your laptop. it’s all about choosing your battles.
you quickly dismissed some twitter notifications before tapping on a new message from lydia. “babe, i’m getting really worried about you, please call me when you see this.” you furrowed your brows. worried? about you? why?
you called lydia, and she picked up nearly immediately.
”y/n!” she gasped with relief, “don’t do that to me again!”
you felt stupid for wondering what she was talking about, but you kind of needed to know, “what do you mean?”
”you’ve been offline for hours, and i couldn’t get to you! and then when i heard what you were eating, that got me worried. have you eaten today?”
”three slices of pizza right now.” you swallowed a bite.
”is that your first meal today?”
”unless you count coffee, yeah. i’ll do better tomorrow, i promise. speaking of tomorrow, we’ve got the psych exam, and i need to keep studying. i’ll call after the exam, so like three?”
”y/n.”
”yeah?”
”you do realize this exam is online, right? and at home?”
”uh, yeah.” you swallowed.
”and you have both a laptop and a phone?”
”lydia, what are you saying?” cheating. she was definitely talking about cheating.
”i’m saying, that you don’t really need to know the definitions, because our dear old pal google can be there to help you out with those. and you’re smart, so i assume you know the concepts.”
”you think very highly, of me, my dear.” you took another bite of pizza. “so, what you’re saying is, i wasted two days studying?”
”yes, that is exactly what i’m saying.”
”shit. wait, why were you studying?”
”ugh, because i am nowhere near as good as you at being able to understand things.”
”you know, definitions explain the concept too.”
”what are you saying?” asked lydia.
”i think we’ve both wasted a lot of time studying when we didn’t need to.”
”fuck.” lydia breathed.
”yeah, we’re both idiots. do you wanna watch something on netflix? you haven’t finished parks and rec yet, right?”
”no, i just finished an episode before you called me.”
”which one?”
”season four, episode seven.”
”wait, is the next episode smallest park? we need to watch that, like, now.”
@meangirlsx @meangirlmurphy @eliza-is-confused @boredomimi @book--butterfly
18 notes · View notes
aristotels · 4 years
Text
adhd??????? please help? long post sorry ahkdjsh
why am i writing this? i took a line of speed yesterday (amphetamine, similiar to adderall), a small dose. and the thing that happened is that it cleared my head
like i was suddenly able to focus on the present??? i wasnt hyperactive or anything, i mean, it was a very small dose but still. i was just. feeling normal, but being able to pay attention to things around me.
and i usually have problems with starting and never finishing billions of projects because having constant ideas, so i start one, start another, i forget things, i daydream, i get easily bored, i cant read an entire page of text in one go - i just read a few keywords and pull out my own conclusions or skip paragraphs and then i have to go back, and then i have to reread because i started thinking about something entirely else... yet with all this, i was an avid book reader. ill read 100 pages no problem but ill skip half or have to return back because i cant read the entire sentence, word by word.
i bring impulsive decisions (i will buy 30 dresses from wish, i will go do drugs, i will disappear and reappear from the internet because engaging with people can be hard; despite this im VERY extroverted and social?, writing e-mails can legit be a hard task for me because i cannot start or organize my thoughts or anything, when watching movies i cant focus so i just do 3 other things at the same time... i put off things so much because i just cant do them??????? and i feel so immature for this?????)
my best friend is like “make lists, jesus christ, how do you all operate without lists?” and im like - lists help SO MUCH - when i remember to make them, or get organized enough to make them, and the deal is - even when i do, i simply
forget to take a look at them???
like i have shitlooooad of things to get done atm and im like? working on 5 different things, forgetting and remembering, starting one and giving up halfway to go do another one, then i forget, and its kinda mess...
like i know for a fact that id NEVER be able to hold a job like idk, being a waitress or something because i just cant perform mentally one task that long
the only thing is that like, i am an artist. i wouldve never connected my very... wild creativity (plenty of ideas and projects which get started and never finished) to adhd, because issues like this (having so many ideas and not going through) seem so common and applicable among artists. but now im thinking - do other artists start new projects because theyre displeased with the ones they came up with and intense self-criticism... or because they just have another amazing idea which they drop within 3 days because there is another exciting idea?
like i always just attributed to me being an ENTP? and a creative person?
also i was never like, a fidgety child. i was actually pretty still, just drawing all the time. however - i could never pay attention to one thing. i had A’s, but i always had to doodle in the class because it made me more focused on what the teacher was saying, not because i found school boring or anything, but i just needed to do something. also yeah i found school boring because i was always kinda ahead anyway or just being very good at connecting things.
ANYWAY, i am diagnosed w bipolar and ocd (the only aspect being intrusive thoughts!) + bulimia but thats an entirely different issue. i never thought about this until few days ago but... could it be that these things are connected? my intrusive thoughts, according to my psych happened because i was “too creative”, aka, seeing multiple scenarios all the time, but having too little serotonin to block the negative thoughts out.
anyway i know this is too long, but id be really happy if someone more experienced helped me out. is this just personality or adhd symptoms...? im not craving diagnosis or anything btw lmao i got enough of those, i dont feel like having another one but anyway yeh lol LMAO id just like to learn how to manage this. it has many positive and negative sides so yeah.
7 notes · View notes
Text
Therapy today helped a bit.
I told my therapist how I’ve been having intense breakdowns since Monday and haven’t been doing okay.
She asked what happened and I told her how I thought the childhood stuff wouldn’t bother me because it was so long ago, but it’s so frustrating to see how much my parents fucked me up. And now there’s this huge list of ways I’m broken that won’t stop growing. And it’s my entire personality. And more people are leaving and that triggered my anxiety, and someone that I’m trying to trust massively crossed a boundary that made my rejection issues even worse.
So she nodded and said “you have a lot to work on. And you really jumped all into it, which is really great, but you’re going to feel like you’re losing for a while. It’s going to overwhelm you a lot. And it’s going to feel easier to lock yourself in your room and off yourself.” (Which I didn’t expect her to say, but she’s right) So I said, “I just don’t fully see the point in trying to fix 30 years of broken.”
“What’s wrong with your personality?” “It’s all fucked up. Everything I do is codependent.” “Sure. Give me an example.” And I couldn’t think of one offhand, so I said, “the thing I realized the other day was I do something for someone because I care right? Which is fine. But also when people are stressed about their situation they get mad. And when that happens I get snapped at and shoved away. So I help to avoid that too I think.”
She was not sold on that. “You used to buy dinner for friends a lot. You did that so you wouldn’t get in trouble?” “No. I did it because I like when people do nice things for me and they don’t always make sure they can eat so I do it so they feel cared about and are healthy.” “That’s just being kind. When you would pay a bill for them they typically pay it right back. So is that codependent?” “No. They need help so I help and they pay it back.” “The times you did it when you didn’t have money to spare. (Which I argued and she called me out lol) The times you let them blow off repaying- that was codependent. You do have a lot of codependent tendencies. But kindness is inherently codependent. You can’t rip apart any time you’ve shown someone kindness. Your biggest codependency issue is not holding boundaries for yourself.”
“You need to repeat the phrase ‘People treat you the way you’ve taught them to treat you’.” “My friend used to say that to me at least once a week.” “Yea well, they’re smart and we’ve covered that you needed to listen to what they’d tell you more than you did. You also need to remember that you don’t control other’s emotions. And other people don’t control yours.”
“People think you’re manipulative and controlling. That’s what they’ve taken from your behavior. You can’t control that. You know it’s not what you intended. You know you’ve been improving for many months. I know you have. But you made them feel a certain way and their opinions didn’t change. You can look at that and acknowledge it and re-examine your behavior like you are. But you can’t change their minds. And their feelings don’t make you that person. So fixating on it doesn’t get you anywhere.”
And then she asked me if I was doing all of this for me or them and I told her I’m having a hard time prioritizing myself. That it pisses me off when people pull the “great pain means great growth. You’ll look back and smile” bullshit. Because the way this feels is terrible and I hate it. So, I know I can’t change anyone’s view of me, but I’m doing all this to try and be who I wanted to be for people who had to leave because of my behavior. And she accepted that.
I also have to start some EDM... pretty sure it’s 4 letters. It’s something to work through past trauma. She said she’d send videos to watch. My alanon group leader asked if she did that sort of thing last week so I guess that’s just where we are. Wait lol... edm is music lemme actually Google the acronym so I seem less ignorant. EMDR, damn dyslexia. Anyway. That.
But basically, I need to really work to not shred myself when I’m low. It’s gotten bad. I also need to start on my books that came yesterday. 2/3 are here. She wants me to try and list my codependent behaviors. I also need to start painting and journaling again. I like this outlet and it’s easiest for my brain, but the way I was doing it all in my watercolor notebook was really therapeutic. It’s just been a bitch of a week.
I’ll be fine and I feel less like having a breakdown or dying. I think I know another thing that is really fucking with me through everything, but I don’t feel comfortable posting it here right now I think. I also can’t do anything about it.
Last night in alanon a woman said “when one door closes another one opens, but the hallway is hell.” And like, yea. Fuck dude. I took a psych class once where the teacher had a gazillion psych type degrees and would open the class with us getting to ask about mental health shit. And one kid asked if it was possible to change personalities. And he said “sure, but you usually see it following a trauma where it rewrites your thought processes. Because it’s hell to do otherwise, and a lot of people can’t handle it.” And I get it now. I thought he meant habits and comfort zones. But it feels like being handed a pile of shards that used to be your brain and given a timelimit to reassemble it. But half the pieces are trauma copies and you have to figure out which parts are imposters, but they actually fit better than the pieces that should be there. And if you fail you lose everything.
Anyway, that’s where I am today. I queued a couple posts last night so you might see random downers, but what I’m thinking of doing is only reblogging positive stuff, and queueing negative stuff that resonated for like, 7am. And I say that because sometimes I rescroll my blog to recount the day or previous day to either feel good with the good posts again or reevaluate the things I’ve said the day before. Since with my mood they don’t always apply still or I may have a totally different approach at that thought. And I do that when I go to bed around 2. So at 7 I won’t be seeing negative shit right before bed. Cuz I’ve fallen asleep and woken up bitter the last few days.
We’ll see. I have lots to do today. I’ve been off twitter so no children have reminded me to do my taxes. I also have to get a new phone today so I’m fully out from under my mother. And I have insurance stuff and inspection cleaning to tackle. It’s only 1 and I’m ready to call it a day.
I hope what my therapist said helps anyone else who is struggling. I like hearing the lines that have stuck with patients and really helped them. So when it doesn’t fuck with me I’d like to be open about what I discuss in therapy. I always used to think it’d solve so many of my problems if I could send my friends zoom links of my sessions since I’m so bad at expressing myself lol. So this is also a bit of an exercise for me to be more outspoken about my feelings (if this bothers anyone you can send an anonymous ask) And therapy isn’t accessible to everyone so maybe it gives someone what they need to go forward a bit in their struggles. (Alanon and CoDa are free and on zoom now though! Definitely look into it if it applies to you!)
There’s a line in a bts song. Idk which one honestly, Ik it’s in the BE photo book though I can post a pic. It comes to mind because my friend would write it a lot when they first heard it. And it’s something like “sometimes we get to know that broken is beautiful”. My therapist today said “you are broken, everyone is. And no one is as broken as they think they are.” I hope one day this feels like a beautiful moment in my life and not the purgatory it feels like. I hope I grow enough for it to be worth it.
0 notes
chaosbisexual · 6 years
Note
1-92 mofo
FUCK RIGHT OFF MATE OK 
(lov u)
i took off the ones abt sex except for 1 bc i can 
1. Would you have sex with the last person you text messaged?
on tumblr…. it was u babe so take that how u like 
on imessage… no my dude 
2. You talked to an ex today, correct?
NOPE MY EX IS ON DRUGS 
4. Is trust a big issue for you?
ehhhhh idk possibly 
5. Did you hang out with the person you like recently?
no but like he’s in my classes?
6. What are you excited for?
yr 10 formal and finished for the year 
7. What happened tonight?
i made fajitas watched youtube and read fic,,, but it’s only 7pm 
8. Do you think it’s disgusting when girls get really wasted?
no do what u want… i just get annoyed when straight girls are suddenly making out with every other girl in sight BC BITCH Y CAN’T THE GAY GIRL GET SOME
9. Is confidence cute?
y e s self love is super hot 
10. What is the last beverage you had?
tea11. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust?
like one or two? 
12. Do you own a pair of skinny jeans?
three actually THEY MAKE MY BUTT LOOK GOOD
13. What are you gonna do Saturday night?
refer to 7 
14. What are you going to spend money on next?
bus fare 
15. Are you going out with the last person you kissed?
what kiss 
16. Do you think you’ll change in the next 3 months?
yes what the hell 
17. Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything?
uhhhhhhhh like leah, the space gals, and my pal steph 
18. The last time you felt broken?
probs yesterday 
20. Are you starting to realize anything?
i can’t study and i hate having feelings for people 
21. Are you in a good mood?
eh im in neutral u made it better tho lmao 
22. Would you ever want to swim with sharks?
yea y not 
23. Are your eyes the same color as your dad’s?
no i am harry potter in which i have my Mother’s eyes
24. What do you want right this second?
more fajitas 
25. What would you say if the person you love/like kissed another girl/boy?
…huh 
26. Is your current hair color your natural hair color?
yes but i think due to the sun it’s a bit lighter than usual 
27. Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh?
no omg humour is important
28. What was the last thing that made you laugh?
the vid u sent me 
29. Do you really, truly miss someone right now?
yep my mother 
30. Does everyone deserve a second chance?
i think so but there’s a line between 2 chances and 50 and if you have to give someone more than like 2 extra chances drop them lol 
31. Honestly, do you hate the last boy you were talking to?
no he’s a butt but he’s ok and he helped me make fajitas 
32. Does the person you have feelings for right now, know you do?
look i honestly don’t know but if he doesn’t then H O W 
33. Are you one of those people who never drinks soda?
lmao no i wish 
34. Listening to?
africa by toto, next in the queue is paint by the paper kites
35. Do you ever write in pencil anymore?
yes my last test was in pencil 
36. Do you know where the last person you kissed is?
again w the whole NO ONE HAS KISSED ME THING 
37. Do you believe in love at first sight?
no love is not purely based on appearance lol 
38. Who did you last call?
the guy who i’m doing my psych pres with
39. Who was the last person you danced with?
my pal nat in a stationary shop 
40. Why did you kiss the last person you kissed?
HMMM AGAIN WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME
41. When was the last time you ate a cupcake?
props like the last time my history teacher brought them to class
42. Did you hug/kiss one of your parents today?
nope lol 
43. Ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush?
YES CONSTANTLY 
44. Do you tan in the nude?
whats tanning dont know her 
45. If you could, would you take back your last kiss?
IF THIS HAPPENS ONE M O R E TIME 
46. Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night?
nope i wish tho 
47. Who was the last person to call you?
my dad
48. Do you sing in the shower?
hell yea i do 
49. Do you dance in the car?
hell yea i do 
50. Ever used a bow and arrow?
yea twice 
51. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer?
like 3 weeks ago for a school thing but the angle was gross 
52. Do you think musicals are cheesy?
NO THEY ARE MY LIFE AND SOUL 
53. Is Christmas stressful?
YES I LOVE SHOPPING BUT NEVER HAVE ENOUGH MONEY FOR EVERYONE 
ok i can’t be bothered to do the the format like that anymore rip nice structure
54. Ever eat a pierogi?
a wot
55. Favorite type of fruit pie?
apple and blueberry 
56. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid?
vet or journalist, still wanna write to some degree lol 
57. Do you believe in ghosts?
i think there is something beyond what we see but idk 
58. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling?
yes omg sometimes before i travel to somewhere new i dream abt the place and then i get there and im LIKE I HAVENT BEEN HERE BEFORE WHY DO I KNOW IT and it’s bc i dreamt abt it
59. Take a vitamin daily?
HHAHAHAHAHAH
60. Wear slippers?
no BAREFOOT BBY 
61. Wear a bath robe?
nah dressing gown tho 
62. What do you wear to bed?
t shirt dress or men’s shirt 
63. First concert?
taylor swift im sorry 
64. Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart?
K MART BITCH 
65. Nike or Adidas?
nike but i dont wear either 
66. Cheetos Or Fritos?
CHEETOS WE DONT HAVE FRITOS IN AUS 
67. Peanuts or Sunflower seeds?
peanuts dude
68. Favorite Taylor Swift song?
currently sparks fly or the live back to december 
69. Ever take dance lessons?
NO I GOT FRIENDS WHO DANCE THO
70. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing?
lowkey want to marry a painter or a designer 71. Can you curl your tongue?
yeee boii 72. Ever won a spelling bee?
nahh 73. Have you ever cried because you were so happy?
YE at my sister’s wedding and at the disco last year lmao 
74. What is your favorite book?
hp, trc, or i’ll give you the sun 
75. Do you study better with or without music?
wWITH 
76. Regularly burn incense?
nah got a wax burner
77. Ever been in love?
ppffft i wish 
78. Who would you like to see in concert?
hozier, arctic monkeys, the lumineers, dua lipa, lorde, hippo campus, the weeknd
79. What was the last concert you saw?
taylor swift but i’ve been to like festivals since then? 
80. Hot tea or cold tea?
hot but since summer is a comin 
81. Tea or coffee?
tea
82. Favorite type of cookie?
white choc macadamia 
83. Can you swim well?
i could before i got boobs
84. Can you hold your breath without holding your nose?
yes 
85. Are you patient?
NOPE 
86. DJ or band, at a wedding?
baND (mostly bc last time i went to a wedding w band the singer was HOT and she could sing like beyonce) 
87. Ever won a contest?
uhhh i think so?
88. Ever have plastic surgery?
nope lol 
89. Which are better black or green olives?
don’t eat either!
91. Best room for a fireplace?
LIVING ROOM OR BEDROOM GUY 
92. Do you want to get married? 
i think so but also i cannot understand why anyone would want to marry me 
ok i lov u more than i love steve harrington have a good night lad ! this was v long i hope ur happy 
9 notes · View notes
barbaesparza · 7 years
Text
Diary of a Scrawny Kid – Dominick Sonny Carisi (2639 words)
Ma left me this notebook in case I wanted to draw something or write her a note if she’s not here and I want to go back to sleep. I don’t know what to draw so I’m just gonna write here instead. I’m really bored.
I’m getting tired of telling the same story over and over again. But I can’t do anything else.
Hospital food sucks balls.
Pa brought Gina and Theresa to see me. Ma stayed home with Bella. Theresa said I look like a mummy. Gina brought me some magazines. I don’t know why she thought I’d be interested in Vogue, but it’s the thought that counts.
I wish I could go outside. Technically I can, but the doctor and nurses said to take it easy.
Ma snuck me some lasagna from home because I’m “a growing boy”. She’s the best.
My friend Adam came to see me after school. He brought along a small pile of homework for me. I sure was glad to see that… Actually, I’m glad to have something to do.
I went outside today with Ma and Pa. We walked for a little while and talked about what's been going on at church and at home. Luckily they haven't asked me anything more about how I got hurt.
My face has been a lot better the last couple of days. They took some of the bandages off. Ma brought Bella to see me. She was awful quiet. I think I scared her.
I want to go home, but I don’t want to go back to school.
I’m waiting for my discharge papers. The doctor said he thinks I’ll make a full recovery and made me an appointment to come back to see him.
I’m allowed to stay home until next week. Adam brought me more homework. It’s pretty lonely in the daytime. Ma’s here, but her concern is a little over the top at times. It’s better than the hospital, at least.
Bobby didn’t talk to me all day today. Wouldn’t even look at me. I’m glad.
I went back to the hospital for my appointment and the doctor said I was doing well and that the scars should fade with time. Nothing hurts anymore so that’s good.
My teachers are helping me catch up on what I missed. Sometimes at lunch I stay back so they can go over some things with me. Sometimes I just ask Adam.
I told Adam I was thinking about asking Abby to the Spring Fling. He kinda looked shocked, but then he told me to go for it! So I’m totally going to ask her tomorrow. I hope she says yes.
Abby said she’d go with me! I’m so excited! Maybe Gina will help me find something to wear?
Adam looked kind of sad today when Abby gave me a hug in the hallway. I think maybe he likes her? Crap.
Maybe I should ask him. I don’t want him to be sad. I don’t even like Abby like that, not really. But she’s really nice and super pretty, and I always wanted to be her friend. It’s just a dance, right?
I asked Adam if he like-likes Abby and he straight-out said no. So maybe I’m just imagining things.
Abby and I had lunch together today, but I don’t know where Adam was. I kept looking around for him, but he didn’t show up. He was probably at the library.
Gina took me shopping and we got this maroon button-up for me to wear. Then when we got home she decided to play around with my hair and put some gel in it. I kept putting my hand in it by accident and getting my hand all sticky, haha.
Abby kissed me after the dance last night. I’ve never kissed anyone before. It was, um, kinda nice? But I didn’t think she even liked me that way.
The dance was really fun, and even though he doesn’t like dancing Adam still came and I got to hang out with him by the fruit punch.
I had fun dancing with Abby, and she looked really beautiful in her floral dress and I told her so. She does gymnastics outside of school and she was telling me about her competition that’s coming up.
Abby and I haven’t kissed again, but we’ve been hanging out every day at school. She’s the most awesome girl I’ve ever met. I love making her laugh. I think I’m going to ask her to be my girlfriend.
I miss Adam. I don’t know what happened. We used to be pretty close but lately he’s been studying a lot. It kind of feels like he’s avoiding me.
I took Abby to the mall today and we got ice cream. Then I told her I like her a lot and would she want to be my girlfriend? She smiled so big and said okay. Then when we finished our ice cream we walked around the mall, not really looking at anything. So I guess Abby’s my girlfriend now, and I’m her boyfriend. I still can’t believe it.
I caught up with Adam and told him the news. He smiled and gave me a hug.
Abby asked me to go watch her at her gymnastics competition. She was amazing! She got 3rd place in her category and the judges were really impressed. I also met her mom, haha. She seems nice. She didn’t really say much except “You must be Sonny” and “It’s sweet of you to come along and support Abby”. Abby was really happy.
Adam and I got paired up for the science project. I’m really glad, I’ve been wanting to hang out with him more.
Abby told me she loves me yesterday. I said it back. I think I do? Adam’s coming over soon so we can work on the science project.
We chose to do our project on diabetes, then Adam stayed over for dinner. Talk about irony! Ma made cannoli, too.
Okay so the thing is, I’m only 15 and I’ve never been in love before, so how can I know what love feels like? But this is nice, so I’m not going to question it too much.
Adam and I were lying on my bed, doing our project, and then we got bored and started talking about where we want to go for college. Adam wants to study literature. I told him I didn’t know. I still kind of want to be a priest but I don’t know if that’s silly. I didn’t tell him about that. He wants to move to NYC. I told him I’d probably stay on Staten Island, at least for college.
I talk to Abby every night on the phone, even if we already saw each other that day. Last night we talked for more than an hour. I don’t know why but we never run out of things to talk about.
We finally finished our project, and just in time too. To celebrate, we played Super Mario Kart. He totally kept letting me win. I know he can kick my ass in this game.
Adam comes and sits at our table more often again now. He talks to Abby, too.
Abby came over today. We weren’t allowed to stay in my room, obviously, but we watched a movie and I made popcorn and that was really fun. The teasing from Gina and Theresa afterwards was insufferable… “Ooh Sonny’s got a girlfriend” should not really apply since I told them about this from the start…
In English class today we were writing poems. I wrote a really shitty one about Abby that I’ll never show anyone, especially Abby. Poetry just is not my thing. Adam wrote a really nice one, though. The teacher chose 5 people at random to read theirs out to the class. I don’t know what I would have done if she chose me. Anyway, Adam’s poem was super romantic and got several wolf-whistles from the boys and even a few of the girls. I don’t know how he writes that stuff but I sure know he’s going to do well in college.
Bobby snuck up on me today while I was getting some books from my locker. I froze. He shoved me against my open locker and taunted me by saying “got your head in the books again, Sonny boy?” Ugh. I thought all that was over. I’m so done with Bobby. It didn’t even hurt, though.
And then I just sat there, on the floor. I was going to be late for class but I didn’t care. I was just done. Didn’t want to move. Because that’s what I’ll have to keep dealing with for the next 2 years.
Then Adam came down the hallway and saw me. He asked me what was wrong, and I told him. After a while, he asked me if Bobby had anything to do with me ending up in hospital. I didn’t say anything. Adam just nodded and patted me on the back. He sat with me for the whole period, which was weird because he has a perfect attendance record.
Adam brought some cookies to school today. He baked them himself. He said it was to cheer me up. I can’t believe he made them just for me. And they were AMAZING.
Abby and I went to watch a movie last night. She said I could pick, but I don’t think she ended up liking it very much.
Adam came over for dinner again. Afterwards we hung out in my room doing homework. He helped me with math. He’s better than me in every subject, basically. So he helps me a lot. Sometimes he asks me stuff too, but I’m pretty sure he’s just humoring me.
Ma and Pa took us all out to have dinner for Bella’s birthday. We had Mexican food because it’s her favorite. I got her a little notebook with purple flowers on it. I think she liked it!
I think I’m in love with Adam.
Alright, I have to write why. Yesterday I had to psych myself up just to write down that one sentence. I’ve never liked a boy before. And Adam is pretty much my best friend, although I’ve never called him that.
I think I love him because, well, when I look at him I feel really funny inside, and I love the way he laughs and even though he’s shy he’s not with me?
And when we talk, I feel like he really cares what I’m saying, and he’s really listening, and he’s so thoughtful and articulate, and he just gets me, you know? And he’s there for me. Not because he has to be, but because he wants to. I think.
When he read that poem in class he looked at me once and my stomach did so many flips and I didn’t even know why. But I know now. Now I find myself wishing so hard that he had written it about me.
When we hug I just want to hold on tight and never let go.
I feel like I’m cheating on Abby.
I guess I can admit it here. I don’t love Abby.  Now how do I tell her without making her cry?
I told her and she didn’t cry. She looked really upset, though. I never thought I’d be the one to break up with someone. But it wouldn’t have been fair to her to keep going when I didn’t love her.
I don’t know if Adam likes boys. Or me. God, I hope he does.
Abby hasn’t talked to me much since. I hope we can still be friends because I really do like her as a friend. But I’ll give her some space for now.
I found this note in my locker today.
I love you so much it hurts, but you don’t feel the same way.
I’m really confused, I hope it’s not from Abby? It’s typed, so I have no idea who it’s from.
Adam invited me over to his place for Sunday lunch. Afterwards we just hung out, watching TV. I couldn’t stop looking at him, I don’t think he noticed. Which is good.
I think Abby and I are friends again now. It’s not back the way it was but at least we can talk.
I got another one. I’m even more confused. I don’t think it can be Abby.
I wish you would notice me. I wish you could see me.
It just hit me. Someone loves me? Please let it be Adam.
I wonder what it feels like to kiss a boy. I wonder what it feels like to kiss Adam.
Geography exam went pretty well today! Glad it’s over – I can’t wait to get 9 hours of sleep tonight.
I can’t stop thinking about him. I find myself daydreaming in class, thinking about hanging out with him again, and how it would feel to have his hand in mine.
Another note turned up in my locker. I found it after lunch.
Give me a sign, Sonny. I’m so scared.
I’m really worried for this person now. Why are they scared? I’d give them a sign, but I don’t know who they are?
Theresa made me coffee this morning. It makes me feel super grown up, drinking coffee.
So I thought I was real smart. I sellotaped my own note to the front of my locker. Give me a clue?
And then I got this…
I love you, and… I’m a guy.
Could it be?
I finally saw Adam again today. I really wanted to ask him about the note… but I choked. What if it wasn’t him?
That would be really embarrassing if it’s not him. What if he’s uncomfortable about me liking him? I really don’t want to lose him as a friend.
Adam and I hung out at the park this afternoon. I didn’t know how to say it but I was sure I would chicken out forever if I didn’t do it then. So I just told him that I thought I was gay, while we were sitting on the swings. It turned into a huge heart-to-heart, going into how I don’t think I was ever in love with Abby. He just listened. When I was all talked out, he looked at me and said he was proud of me and was here for me.
Maybe the note-writer isn’t Adam. But I’m really glad he’s my friend and that he’s supportive.
Oh my God! I found this in my locker after school today!
Blue eyes
Floppy hair
Light of my life
So fair
Smile for me
In my darkest hour
Be there for me
As I’m there for you
Hold me close
I want you to
Kiss me once
I need you to
Never have I ever
Felt this way
But alas the light
Was never mine
For someone else
The sun doth shine
It’s Adam’s poem! In his handwriting! And he put it in my locker! Oh my God, ADAM LOVES ME!
So I left the following in Adam’s locker right after I got his poem:
Dear Adam,
I love you too.
Sonny
And during break Adam came up to me at my locker and just smiled at me, and I smiled at him, and we just knew. I said “You got my note?” and he nodded and then hugged me really tight. For like, a really long time. I was so happy. And… I really wanted to kiss him then but there were people around…
Um. So Adam’s coming over again. He said he was going to drop his stuff at home first. I’m kind of freaking out here.
Update: Kissing a boy is awesome and kissing Adam specifically is freaking amazing.
28 notes · View notes
buffalowingsfortwo · 5 years
Text
9/9/19 11:47 pm
ash to faith
i went to bed early last night and woke up on my own around 11:30, and it felt nice. some point late last night or soon after i woke up, i fully accepted that i’ve been being really negative recently and creating a cycle of bad behavior and moods, and then i decided that today would be the point where that stopped.
i got up and went to class 30 minutes late because i couldn’t find parking and then i walked all around the parking lot trying to find a machine selling one-day parking passes, but the first one i found was out of order, and at the second i realized they only take cash, which i didn’t have. so i went to class, and told myself i’d just get one when i got out and hope i didn’t get a ticket. both of those things worked out for me. in my math class, i finished a section i was on, took the test for it, and passed. the teacher said i could retake the test on wednesday to try to get a better score (i just got a 75) and i think im going to because i really want to do well in this class.
i didn’t spend my break with diana because i spent a full 45 minutes buying a semester parking pass and then trying to find my car again. in my psych class, we went over test review because our first exam is on wednesday. i really like the people who i sit by, and we usually talk a little bit during class. most people in there are older women of color, and even though i don’t like the teacher that much, i feel like i learn a lot from everyone else and i like the environment.
after psych, i went home to eat, and on my drive, i went past a huge flock of crows that was flying in a weird pattern. i think you’re aware, but there’s a lot of things that i just deem as symbols of good luck, for no reason other than i feel like it. i’ve decided crows are a new one for me. realistically, there was probably just a dead animal or something in one of the fields i was driving past, but i was having a good day, and i really really like crows. when i got home, i ate soup and a salad. i also saw that my mom got me new pepper spray, because my last one broke, and a stun gun, because last week, someone got robbed at gunpoint on avc’s campus. life is terrifying but they’re both a nice purple color.
when i went back to school for my communications class, the teacher lectured for a while before announcing that we’d be doing more speeches today. i went up with my partner, and we both talked about each other for a few minutes. we were both really nervous, but she did really well. i spoke too quietly and used too many space fillers and looked down and crossed my hands too much. i felt like i was gonna throw up afterwards, but in both of our speeches, we mentioned that neither of us liked country music, especially when men were singing it. when i ended my speech, a kid that i think is really cool (he’s hot and into film and art and he’s not white) asked us both why, which started a debate, which the teacher got pulled into. it was dumb but it made all of us laugh so i felt a little better. at another point, the teacher brought up that he liked the killers, and we argued about which of their records is best. he thinks it’s hot fuss, which is wrong, but i can respect. he said i seem like a good person to talk about music with. im hoping im in his good books now. i think you’d like him. he swears and makes dumb jokes and shits on men and republicans a lot and is also not white. that’s the most stressful class i have by a longshot, but i really like the people in it. the av sucks, and so does this school, but i sit in classes like that, and hear every side conversation about tv and music and career paths and families and i feel happy to be where i am and where i’ve been.
i came home and ate a burrito and strawberries and now im making this post. i think im gonna watch another harry potter movie and work out before going to bed. tomorrow i pick up brandi from the vet around 8 am, and im really excited. i think a lot about an idea i once heard, when someone said that if one human year is seven for dogs, a day at work or school away from them must be why they make such a big deal when their owners come back home. that and the fact that they, for the most part, have no real reason to believe that anyone’s ever coming back to them. brandi’s never been away for long, so 24 hours must be totally killing her. i think when i pick her up im gonna bring her new treats and another toy even though she has too many as it is. she’s similar to you in that she’s awful and puts me through hell but there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for her and she supplies roughly 95% of my joy.
i missed you a lot today, and almost cried a few times about it. don’t take that too seriously though, i cry a lot for no reason these days. im extra sensitive now because yesterday i heard good as hell by lizzo for the first time. im always late to songs like that, but whatever, it’s a good song. i like listening to it while driving because it brings me the same feeling that driving with you does. im really really glad to hear that you’re having so much fun at school and finally getting the full life experience you’ve always deserved, but shit does suck a little bit without you. i thought a lot today about how you’ve always been the one thing to make me laugh and bring me back down to earth when nothing else could. you’re at a big growing point in your life right now, and i am, too, just not in the same ways. i don’t know when i’ll see you next, but im excited for it. i know i’ll laugh a lot. i’ll probably cry too. im ugly like that.
“i ain’t worried doin’ me tonight, a little sweat ain’t ever hurt nobody”
- get me bodied by beyoncé
0 notes
nikolkatrikolka · 5 years
Text
Freedom and Choice in Childbirth: Making Pregnancy Decisions and Birth Plans by Sheila Kitzinger, 1987.
Tumblr media
Thames Valley Midwives owns a shelf of books expectant mothers can borrow. I spotted this one in the waiting room and opened to the page you see here. The black-and-white image of a woman with child facing a windy horizon resonates with me. It was taken by photographer and filmmaker Nancy Durrell McKenna, founder of SafeHands for Mothers, an NGO dedicated to global woman’s health. I don’t know who the woman in the photograph is, but there’s something in her resolute gaze that mirrors how I feel about my own pregnancy. Kitzinger’s first sentences in the chapter Emotional Changes captivated me. I decided to take her book home.
“...An inescapable fact about pregnancy,” Kitzinger writes, “is that - emotionally - each woman is as if on the rim of the void. More than any explorer in frozen wastes of ice, more than any sailor in an expanse of uncharted ocean, she is alone in the face of a momentous event, the drama of birth, which is going to open her body and bring from its depths a new human being. She has only to think about that to feel awe at the magnitude of what must happen, to know eager expectation and wonder - and sometimes also fear.”
She discusses the universal experience of growth and change during pregnancy, the inevitability of childbirth, and the emotions felt undergirding both events. Worries concerning the baby, fear of birth, and changes in a woman’s sex life is explored. I reflect on three points she makes, listed below. 
1. One element of worry, she writes, is what happens after the baby comes (pg. 85). This has been my experience. I don’t have a career to support our growing family. My husband and I are in the process of potentially getting a mortgage and my income does not count toward our application because I do contract work. If I had a career, we likely would have been approved already. We are living with my in-laws until the house works out, which means we won’t have our own place when baby arrives. I don’t know what it will be like, living out of a suitcase while caring for a newborn. I’m determined to view it as an adventure. 
2. Birth is “perceived as a time of testing” for most women (pg. 92). Education on what labour entails can help women “approach birth as an active and creative experience,” rather than one of fear and powerlessness. Fear of birth is generally a result of fear of the unknown or fear of pain. The mind is a powerful tool in enduring and overcoming trauma.  
A good example of this “time of testing” came just this afternoon when we received a call informing us that my ultrasound results indicate a low-lying placenta (placenta praevia). An ultrasound for the beginning of April was requested to re-assess the position. Although it’s never recommended to google medical issues, my husband and I turned to our iPhones and learned the following: Depending on the placenta’s location, a vaginal birth would be ruled out and a caesarean scheduled. In that case, vaginal delivery would compromise baby’s life and mine due to blood loss. The news is somewhat eerie because last night I had a vivid dream that I had heavy bleeding from my uterus. A caesrean isn’t my first choice but I’m thankful for modern medicine. 100 years ago placenta praevia resulted in the death of the mother. Also ultrasounds can be wrong. So there’s that. 
3. The necessity of waiting 9 months to meet your child. A woman experiences so much change physically and emotionally during pregnancy that she needs time to prepare for motherhood. 
This need to prepare was underscored for me yesterday. I hadn’t slept well and was sick to my stomach from eating too much dairy the night before. It took everything out of me to work an eight hour day. Earlier, I was in tears over how frustrated I feel at my useless psych degree. I had looked into teacher’s college and learned I would have to update a number of undergraduate credits in order to have any teachables. I barely made it through university alive (*moment of melodrama) and the thought of going back is too much. I pondered what career to work towards. It was a low point in an otherwise emotionally steady pregnancy.
As soon as I got home, I took a hot bath to relax and ventured into the kitchen to eat dinner. I peeled a deliciously ripe kiwi and dropped it on a nasty area of kitchen floor that hadn’t been cleaned yet. Exasperated, I dropped an F-bomb and slammed the kiwi into the garbage (I knew I was at wits’ end because I haven’t sworn like that in ages). My husband popped his head into the kitchen with raised eyebrows and told me I can’t say words like that when the baby is here. Seconds later, I walked into a puddle of water on the ground from the bath I had taken. I threw down a towel to dry it up, complaining about how much I hate our apartment (our tub overflows and the water spills into the hallway). Directly after this, in an attempt to make salad, I knocked over the container of grape tomatoes. The tomatoes scattered across the kitchen floor. Some rolled under the fridge, beyond reach. At that point, I lost it. I crouched on all floors trying to salvage what I could and burst into tears. Thankfully I have a compassionate husband who let me cry on his shoulder and assure me that everything’s okay. And everything was okay. But I wasn’t.
Kitzinger concludes her chapter with an encouraging word on how the stress of pregnancy can challenge women in positive ways (despite - I might add - the hormones that make you cry over lost grape tomatoes). It can “stimulate fresh thinking and new understanding” of self and a woman’s relationships. It prepares her to cope with the changes and stressors of life. Before now I never really thought much about the far future. The responsibility of another life puts this in sharp relief. My emotional day was due to a number of things, including my future, and by way of association, my daughter’s future.  A future which, though held in Christ’s hands, is shaped by the decisions I make today. “Pregnancy is a learning time,” Kitzinger writes, “It is a process which, though often stormy - and sometimes tumultuous - encourages an emotional ripening and maturation that give the strength and sensitive awarnesss to take on responsibility for a new life” (pg. 98).
I imagine the woman in the photograph facing the “winds of change” - as it were - with acceptance and fortitude. Perhaps that’s what I’m learning to do, too.
0 notes
tanmath3-blog · 7 years
Text
I’m going to start this interview a little differently. This is the blurb for Andy Graham’s new book. Enjoy!!!
  You’re eighteen. Bored. Dad’s away a lot. Says its business, but you’ve seen the lipstick stains. Mum’s home. Too much. Keeping the world gin market afloat on her own. There’s Ariel, the family maid. She’s cool. The one piece of this messed up world that makes sense. And then there’s Raph.
Raph’s the leader of your gang of two. He gets off on doing those things to the animals you both catch: the slicing, crushing, and maiming. Buried a few alive, too. His relationship with that hammer of his is sick.
You run with Raph because, well, nothing else to do out here, right? Except if your folks found out what you’ve been up to, there’d be hell.
Then you find it. Whatever it is.
It can’t be what you think it is. Those things don’t exist. But it’s staring at you. Asking for help. Is it dying? Can these things die? You need to do something for it. Raph wants to do something to it.
Time to choose. Do you run with the human devil you know, or take a chance on this thing that fell from the heavens?
An Angel Fallen is a tale of divine retribution from British author Andy Graham. On a day when the world is struggling to stay sane, and is being ravaged by biblical plagues, what price will two teenagers pay for their past?
  Please welcome Andy Graham to Roadie Notes…….
1. How old were you when you first wrote your first story?
Mid-teens. It was a mash-up of LOTR and D&D, written in a red exercise book I’d nicked from school. I don’t know what happened to the original story (it may be gathering dust in a box at the back of my Mum’s loft), but some of those ideas resurfaced recently in some of my short stories, e.g. a spiral staircase that always turns left, whether you’re going up or down it. I then had a long break from writing when the teenage years (and hormones) kicked in. I wrote a lot of short stories when I was working as an EFL teacher, and even looked into publishing them, but didn’t start writing properly until a few years ago.
2. How many books have you written?
Three novels. One set of short stories. One novella.
The novels are my main work to date. The Lords of Misrule is a series of dystopian political thrillers set in an alternate world based on 21st Century EU/ US. They are dark, ambiguous, and the events are very, very possible. That is proving to be both their strength and weakness with readers. Some people like the ‘greyness’ and moral flexibility, others prefer their stories and characters more black and white.
My short stories and the novella explore the dark themes of human psyche in more detail than my longer works. Purely by nature of the stories being shorter, the nastiness is much more concentrated.
3. Anything you won’t write about?
Sparkly vampires with a heart of gold. It’s a crazy idea, it’ll never work. Apart from that, I haven’t found anything I won’t write about, yet. I think most subjects are fair game, it’s the way they are handled that’s important. G.R.R. Martin, for instance, tackles the theme of incest in ASOIAF, but doesn’t go into intimate detail (thankfully). I don’t want to deal with that particular topic, but if for some reason it came up in a story, would I go there? If it revulses me, would it revulse a reader? Is the ‘duty’ of a fiction author purely to entertain? If so, does provoking an emotional response count? I guess if it serves the plot, yes. If it’s there just to be cringe-worthy, then no.
4. Tell me about you. Age (if you don’t mind answering), married, kids, do you have another job etc…
I’m in my mid-forties (as a friend of mine pointed out – ‘over half-way’), married, and have two kids who are still at the wonderful age when they want to spend time with me, and I with them. My wife, fortunately, also still wants to spend time with me. I do various things outside writing: I play bass in a band, teach sports massage, and I am a qualified osteopath. It’s a little manic at times trying to keep up with all of these things, but I like the variety, and it gives me plenty of material to use in my stories.
5. What’s your favorite book you have written?
Ahhhhh. Pass… Not sure. The first proper novel I wrote (Franklin – The Lords of Misrule: Book 2) is probably my favourite story. I Died Yesterday (the titular short story from my compilation), is the one that haunts me most. An Angel Fallen (this novella) is the one I’m proudest of.
6. Who or what inspired you to write?
It’s always been something I wanted to do. Not entirely sure why. Maybe because I grew up in a house full of books, or because I was a shy kid, happier with words than people. As I mentioned before, it took me a long time before I actually started writing properly. Eventually, it was a case of just making time for something I’d really wanted to do. It’s something I’d encourage everyone to do – if you really want to do something, make time for it. Otherwise, it’s never going to happen.
7. What do you like to do for fun?
Make things up and write them down. Outside of that, I play my bass, run around with my kids, and go to the gym (though that’s more like therapy, to be honest).
8. Any traditions you do when you finish a book?
Drink. Wine. Beer. Slivovice. Then start writing the next book.
9. Where do you write? Quiet or music?
I write wherever I can. That’s one of the beauties of the job – you just need a keyboard and imagination. I’m happiest in my front room, sitting in an armchair. I can’t write with music on, it gets in the way of my plot (and spelling).
10. Anything you would change about your writing?
Yes! I seem to have an allergy to punctuation. I’d love to be able to clean that up, it would help the editing process in particular. I tended to get carried away with some of my descriptions in my earlier books. That has improved, I’m much more concise now.
11. What is your dream? Famous writer?
Revenge: to watch my kids struggling with their own children as I struggled with them. Otherwise: Fame? No, not too concerned. Money? Yes, being financially secure would be great. (Anyone who says money’s not important is either lying or loaded.) Success as an author would be fantastic. But, without wanting to be too pretentious, my main dream is for my kids to grow up happy and healthy in a world which is not full of people being such f*****s to each other. But, then, if we did live in such a world, I wouldn’t feel as inspired to write dark fiction.
12. Where do you live?
At the moment in Prague, but we’re in the process of moving to a tiny village in the middle of nowhere. Mixed feelings about it, to be honest. Prague’s a great place, we have good friends, the kids are happy, but the opportunity to ‘go native’ out in the sticks and get ready for the apocalypse is too good to miss.
13. Pets?
The kids have two budgies, initially called Bertik and Pirko. (The latter means ‘feather’ in Czech.) Through sheer bloody-minded persistence and repetition I’ve managed to get them renamed Bucket and Pivo. (The latter means ‘beer’ in Czech.)
14. What’s your favorite thing about writing?
Being judge, jury, and executioner. I get to control who lives and dies, who gets vengeance, and who gets what they got coming to them.
15. What is coming next for you?
I want to finish book four of my main series (The Lords of Misrule). I’m about a third of the way through the first draft. I’m finding it tough going at the moment because there’s so much else going on. I’d like that published by the end of the year. I also have a collection of short stories set in that world coming out in a few months’ time. Then, who knows? I have a few ideas knocking around to build on An Angel Fallen, also supernatural horrors, and similar in length. I have rough plans for a few supernatural thrillers, or I may dip my toes in Joe Abercrombie’s pond and go full, epic grimdark.
  You can connect with Andy Graham here:
http://www.andygrahamauthor.com twitter – @andygraham2001 FB – andy graham author.
Some of Andy Graham’s books: 
Getting personal with Andy Graham I'm going to start this interview a little differently. This is the blurb for Andy Graham's new book.
0 notes
krissysbookshelf · 7 years
Text
Enjoy An Exclusive Sneek Peek of: The End of Our Story by Meg Haston!
Bridge and Wil have been entangled in each other’s lives for years, but when Wil’s family suffers a violent loss, and Bridge rushes back to Wil’s side. As they struggle to heal old wounds and start falling for each other all over again, Bridge and Wil discover just how much has changed in the past year. Though they once knew each other’s every secret, they aren’t the same people they used to be.  
LEARN MORE
  BRIDGE Spring, Senior Year
NOW that Atlantic Beach and I are about to part ways, something strange has started to happen. With just two months left in senior year, suddenly I’m noticing every little detail: the way the salt-screened classroom windows smudge the sun. How the beach rats’ feet are permanently plastered with sand. The color of Wil Hines’s skin, perpetually an end-of-August bronze from hours spent between the ocean and the sun. Now that it’s all about to disappear, everything around me is sharper, brighter. My brain is trying to convince me that I’ll miss this place once I leave for Miami and The Rest of My Life, but that’s impossible. I’ve been plotting my escape for almost a year now.
At the desk next to me, Leigh props up her sketchpad. On it is a drawing of a concrete wall with What time should I pick you up tonight, biotch? graffitied in blazing hot-pink flames. Weeds crawl through the cracks in the wall, and a girl leans against it, smoking a joint. Leigh is incapable of texting like a normal person.
She flips to the next page, where she’s written First bonfire of senior year!!! When I shake my head no, she rolls her eyes and flips again. The third page says Dude. Bridge. Come on. The girl is slumped against the wall in defeat. She looks like Leigh: shoulder-length dreadlocks, warm mahogany skin, and dark brown eyes. Even the cartoon-version of my best friend finds me lame these days. I shrug and mouth Sorry, even though we both knew the answer before she asked the question.
At the front of the room, a substitute stares blank-faced at her computer screen. We’re supposed to be doing trig practice problems, but the thirty-four of us seem to have an unspoken agreement: We’ll do nothing, leaving the sub free to analyze her sort-of-boyfriend’s Instagram posts.
As Leigh sighs and goes back to her sketchpad, Ana Acevedo leans across the gray linoleum aisle and puts her lips close to Wil’s ear: “We should go to the bonfire, babe. You never go out anymore.”
Babe. I can’t believe they’re still a thing.
I can’t believe we’re not anymore.
I stare at the back of Wil’s neck, taut from Ana’s whisper. I remember the first time I sat behind him. It was the beginning of fourth grade at my new school, and my entire body was raw with sunburn. I was on fire. Breathing hurt. Even holding a pencil hurt. So I sat as still as I could on the edge of my seat and counted the sun-bleached hairs on the head in front of me. On hair number eighty-six, the boy turned around.
He said, “Your skin matches your hair, almost.”
I blinked.
“You have sun poisoning. Like, bad,” he told me.
“Duh,” I replied, but secretly, I was relieved by his diagnosis. I had been considering something in the flesh-eating disease category.
“Didn’t your mom put sunscreen on you?”
“She had to work.” I didn’t tell him that yesterday had been the first beach afternoon in the history of Bridget Hawking. That I didn’t understand the Florida sun. I lay on the sand, feet and palms pressed into the fine grains, the fireball searing me slowly and without my knowledge. The water looked exactly the way I thought it would, like a beach diorama I’d designed in first grade. Crinkled aluminum foil scribbled cerulean.
“What about your dad?” he asked.
“My dad is dead,” I lied. Or maybe I didn’t. Mom told me once she had no idea.
“Oh,” he said. He poked his tongue in the space between his two front teeth. “Do you want to come over after school? My dad has a workshop and you should probably stay inside.”
“I don’t even know your name,” I said.
“Wil. Short for Wilson, which is my dad’s name, too.”
That afternoon, Wil’s dad picked us up in a truck that had been patched and repainted too many times to tell its true color.
“This is Bridge,” Wil told his dad.
“As in, Brooklyn?” Wilson Hines smiled. “Or maybe Golden Gate?” When he turned to wink at Wil, I noticed that he had longish hair. The dads I knew back in Alabama had buzz cuts, mostly.
“As in Bridget,” I said. “From Alabama?”
“Bridget from Alabama,” he said. “Of course.” He had us ride in the cab so my burn didn’t get worse. He fished around in a bag at Wil’s feet and found a trucker’s hat that said MAMA P’S SEAFOOD SHANTY. He put it on my head to keep the sun off my face. In the truck, there was a tiny fake pine tree on the dash, which made everything smell like Christmas.
He buckled my seat belt and was quiet most of the way but every now and then he’d ask me a question, like what Alabama was like this time of year or whether Wil had caused the teacher any trouble in class today.
“Just between us,” he said, as though Wil wasn’t there. He winked.
Wil’s family lived in a white ranch-style house that was low and long, ten blocks east of the water. The house was situated on a double lot, and behind the main house was a large workshop. It looked like a barn, which reminded me of home. Over the front door of the workshop was a neatly hand-lettered sign: HINES BOAT BUILDING AND REPAIR. Inside, the light was watery, and it smelled like varnish and sawdust. In the center of the workshop, the upside-down skeleton of a small wooden boat balanced on a large worktable. The walls were all pegboards and wood shelving and straight lines.
Wil’s dad went to get us some snacks and told us that when he got back, he wanted to see that everything was as he’d left it.
“Got it,” we said. We sat with our legs outstretched on the stained concrete floor and compared things, like mothers (his was an office manager at a dentist’s office in downtown Jacksonville; mine was a hospitality expert), and least-favorite things about our fourth-grade teacher (his: how she had only picked girl line leaders so far; mine: how when she read to the class, she licked her finger each time she turned a page, which meant that every book in our classroom was covered in her spit), and favorite holidays (his: Halloween, because you can’t buy packets of fake blood any other time of year without looking crazy and also because of the candy; mine: my birthday because my mom made Funfetti waffles).
“Also, sick days in quotes,” I announced as Wil’s dad returned with a paper plate full of celery and apple wedges smeared with peanut butter. A sick day in quotes was something special Mom did for my brother, Micah, and me once or twice each school year. We’d get up at the regular time, get dressed for school and eat breakfast, and just as Mom was rushing us out the door, she’d yell, “Sick day in quotes!” and pull us back inside. She’d call the school and tell them we were “sick” and make a big show of the air quotes while she was on the phone. Then we’d pile in her bed together and eat sugar cereal straight out of the box and watch cartoons until we all fell asleep.
“What about sick days?” Wilson crouched on the floor and placed a single napkin in front of each of us. One celery stick for me; one celery stick for Wil. One apple chunk for me; one apple chunk for Wil.
Wil rolled his eyes at me. “Don’t get him started about sick days.”
“No such thing.” Wil’s dad shook his head. “No matter what, every day—”
Wil finished the sentence for him: “You show up to play.”
When Wilson dropped me off at home that night, he told me I was welcome anytime. So I showed up the next afternoon. And the next. I spent nearly every day in that workshop, until Wil and I morphed into friends. Best friends. More. We were solid: made of layers of afternoon snacks and middle-school dances and first kisses. We took years to get that way. And I undid it all in a blink.
Somehow, I’ve survived our senior year without Wil. But now it’s April, and with Miami only a couple of months away, Wil’s absence seems sharper, just like every other detail of my Florida life. If I had to get all Intro to Psych about it, I guess I’d say that before I make the biggest change I’ve ever made in my very small life, I need something familiar. I want to find Wil in his dad’s workshop. I would talk through the cloudy life questions that have been hovering over me since August: What if I don’t get a good work-study job? and Mom can’t set Micah straight all by herself and But I don’t want to stay here, I most definitely do not want to stay in Atlantic Beach for the rest of my life. Not anymore.
The bell rings, and I watch Wil slide out of his seat and rest his hand on the small of Ana’s back. He steers her toward the door, leaving the smell of varnish in his wake.
He must be working on a new boat. He always smells like sawdust and varnish when he’s finishing a skiff. Varnish is his favorite smell—he used to sniff the can as a kid. I bet I’m the only person in the universe who knows that. I know all his real secrets, like how he can’t sleep without the National Geographic channel on low in the background. How he knows his dad loves him and his mom tries but doesn’t know him. How he can only cry underwater.
It’s such a waste, knowing those kinds of things about a stranger.
Original post: http://ift.tt/2qRbdFF
from Blogger http://ift.tt/2qfF79O
0 notes