Abbey's life had always been completely normal-well, normal in her eyes. Sure, the other kids at school thought it was a little weird that she seemed to always have her nose stuck in a book and that she was constantly writing. But, she didn't care- she never minded sticking out a bit. Well, as long as she could easily fall back into plain.
Abbey was one of those kids- the ones that could be quiet when needed but was really loud and outgoing in her everyday life. She didn't mind that the popular kids thought she was a bit out there and odd; she didn't mind that she is 15 years old and has never even been on a date. She didn't mind that she was different.
She's always felt different. Ever since she was twelve she has suffered from anxiety and panic attacks. Then there was the fact that Abbey never felt like she belonged anywhere.
She supposed every teenage kid felt like that- that at one point they felt useless and out of place. She had felt that ever since she was thirteen, and she thought that maybe since she was going into high school that she would find herself.
Abbey wasn't the smartest, but she wasn't the dumbest. Abbey wasn't sporty, but she wasn't afraid of the ball. Abbey could never describe herself other than saying, 'Just…Abbey'. She felt she never fit into a category. (Sure, she hung out with the nerds in school, but that was only because she read. To Abbey, that was the only thing she thought she was actually good at. That and well- fangirling.)
Ever since her best friend Madelyn showed her a series of books called Gallagher Girls in sixth grade, Abbey's had her nose in a book ever since.
Soon after, she was reading anything and everything by Ally Carter, the women who wrote Gallagher Girls. That's all Abbey could focus on.
Reading, it became her safe heaven.
Abbey didn't have a bad home life. Actually, she had a great one; two loving and supporting parents whom working there asses off to provide for the 3 children, two older brothers that were fiercely protective and annoying.
She had friends, great friends. They had been friends since 7th grade but in the the short years of friendship they began to think of each one as family and loved each other.
Reading was just Abbey's escape from herself.
It's not like she self-harmed-she could never even bear the thought of that-but in her mind she was never good enough, she just felt like a failure.
Especially now, when she really did fail.
"Hey, honey," her dad started as she opened the door to the large truck. Before he could even ask how it went, she shook her head.
She threw her racket on the floor and pulled her 5'5 frame up into the truck that was at least two feet off the ground. She ran a hand through her hair and sighed as she plopped down in the seat.
"Oh Abs," he comforted, "I'm so sorry."
She shook her head once more and looked down at her lap. "Just drive."
She couldn't stand to see it anymore, to see the people that did make the team start new drills and begin practice, to see people she knew see her like this.
Her dad's truck slowly lurched forward, and pulled out of the tennis court parking lot.
She begged herself to have some dignity as she left the courts, to leave with her head held high and never let the tears fall until she was safely in the truck. And now she was and now the tears streamed down her face.
It wasn't even that she wanted to make the team that badly, it's that she wanted to know that maybe she was good at something, that maybe she did have a place on the earth. She had never felt like she was born to do something in her life. And when she tried out for the tennis team she thought that maybe if she made the team then she wasn't completely useless.
But now she was crying in her dad's truck because she didn't have a place. Not on the tennis team and not in the world.
"What did they say?" Her father's voice broke the silence after a few minutes.
"That I've got a lot of heart," she quoted the couch, "And I should come back out next year." She rolled her green eyes.
What a load of bull shit, she thought. Why should I come back out next year? So you can tell me no again? Bull. Shit.
"I'm so sorry, baby." Her dad rubbed her back. "I know how you feel."
"You do?" she croaked.
Her dad nodded and turned into their small town, a comfortable town in Illinois with less than 5,000 people and everyone who didn't live in the town pronounced its name wrong.
"I didn't make my freshman baseball team," he said.
"Yeah, but the next year you made Varsity," she complained.
"Because over the year I practiced," he stated proudly. "That is exactly what you can do. Practice. Then next year come back and shove that tennis ball down their throats."
Abbey laughed lightly, that's what she loved about her dad. He could always make her feel better, no matter what the situation. He seemed to understand her problems. He understood her anxiety issue better than anyone else, and he listened to her. He didn't interrupt her in the middle of explaining the situation and scold her or remind her that not everyone is as lucky as she is and she should have compassion for others, like her mother does.
"I don't think I'm going back out there next year," she decided.
Her dad shrugged- he also didn't force her to do thing she didn't want to. He wasn't the fun parent, no he was still strict, but he wasn't controlling.
"Are you or am I going to tell your mom?" he asked.
Abbey groaned-she had forgotten about her mother.
The mom who spent two hundred dollars in lessons and equipment. The mom who was all-state Varsity champion for the girls Tennis team for four years in a row in high school. The mom who spent two hours with Abbey every night working on her strokes. The mom who wanted nothing more than to see her daughter succeed at something.
It seemed as if Abby had tried everything. She didn't have a lot of hand-eye coordination, so softball was out of the question. She wasn't aggressive enough for soccer. She was too self-conscious for swimming. Not balanced enough for gymnastics and dance. And she wasn't artistic, she couldn't draw or paint.
Abbey's friends all seemed to be good at something.
Madelyn was amazing at softball, making the varsity team freshman year.
Bailey was an amazing drawer.
Samantha was a genus.
Eli, a boy she became friends with about three years ago, was the real version of Sheldon Cooper from The Big Bang Theory, just slightly less OCD and had fiery red hair.
Compared to all of her friends, Abbey was average. She didn't offer much-she had average grades and didn't have a special talent. She wasn't very pretty either. She was average in a lot of places- except her eyes.
She didn't look as pretty as her friends (she had boring brown-blondish hair, for example), but supposed the most attractive thing about her was her eyes. That's what she was mainly complemented on. She never saw what the hype was about her eyes. She had her dad's eyes, and they constantly changed. When she was sad they were ocean blue, when she was mad they were hazel. But normally they were just green, boring green. Sort of like forest green, nothing too special. Not bright green, that could pointed out of a room. Dark green, that some would have mistaken for colored contacts.
She had always been jealous of her brothers because they had their mother's eyes, bright blue, while she got stuck with the dull green.
Her dad pulled up the driveway and into the garage. Abbey got out, not bothering to retrieve her racket, leaving it on the floor of her dads dirty company car. She stomped up the stairs and into her room, slamming her door.
She could practically see her father cringe at the noise.
She slammed her body down on her bed, not bothering to change out of her sweaty clothes or take off her shiny new court shoes that would most likely be thrown in the back of her closet because she was for dammed sure not playing the game. Ever again.
Abbey heard a distressed meow coming from behind the wooden door that was closing her room off from the rest of the world.
"Ugh!" she cried and chucked a pillow at the door, making it shake on its hinges from the sudden movement. The meow didn't falter, still coming strong through the door.
"Shut up you stupid cat!" she cried.
The tears flowed from her eyes into her cheeks; from her cheeks to the nape of her neck; from her neck to oblivion. Abbey hated the feeling of tears streaming down her face and transferring from her cheek to her neck. The warmth that covered the cheek failed to cover the neck, never failing to leave her neck cold and sticky with tears.
The cat stilled meowed.
She hated that cat. It had once been hers, but now she despised it.
She had gotten it as a 10th birthday present, and named it after a book she hasn't even read. She named it Mr. Bingly, after the character in Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice. Her oldest brother, Alex, had been reading it and explained it all to Abbey.
She was fascinated with the characters and when she received the cat, she just had to name it Mr. Bingly. Now, the cat was just called simply Bing or sometimes Bingly. And as juvenile as it sounds, when the cat is in trouble, Mr. Bingly.
"Bing!" she screamed.
The cat stopped meowing. She rolled back over and wallowed in her pillow.
Her phone when off minutes later.
So how'd it go?
It was from Madelyn. Abbey didn't want to tell her that she didn't make it-Madelyn had made the varsity team when she was a freshman. Abbey was embarrassed that she didn't even make the JV team.
I should have done golf.
She sent the message and set her phone down.
She changed out of her tennis skirt that she now hated and athletic sports top. She slipped on her baggiest comfiest sweat pants that she was almost positive was a time her brother's and a tee shirt advertising the legion baseball team that her second oldest brother, Austin, used to play for.
She sighed and grabbed the book she was currently reading off her night stand.
Her phone dinged again.
Madelyn texted back.
I'm sorry Abs, maybe next year?
No way in hell I'm going back out there.
She flipped to a page and immediately became evaporated into the pages, losing her problems in between the words and enclosing her mind into the chapters.
Reading was what she loved, and she also loved to write. She never thought of becoming a professional author- she wrote because she enjoyed it and she knew if she started to think of it as a job she was going to think of it as a chore. Then, she would never write again.
Hours later, a small knock came from the door.
"Come in!" she called. She placed the scrap paper into the book, marking her page, and closed the book on her lap, looking up as the door opened slowly.
Her mom came in, probably just arriving from work.
"So you didn't make it," her mom sighed as she sat down on her bed.
Abbey just shook her head, looking down longingly at the book.
"I'm sorry, Abs." her mom hugged her.
Abbey started to cry again, a sense of overwhelming coming through her and bringing back those feelings of shame.
"I-" her voice broke," I just wanted you to be proud of me," she cried.
Her mom stroked her back and squeezed her harder. "Oh honey," the woman cooed," I will always be proud of you."
Abbey nodded, but she knew her mother was lying. She had never given her mother a reason to be proud. Austin gave her a reason to be proud, almost graduating and then going into the service. Alex gave her a reason to be proud-he had a wife and a good job in Pittsburg. Abbey never gave her mother a reason to be proud.
She failed.
And only she could understand what she was going through, only she could know what it meant to her today to not be perfect.
So what did you think?
Tell me what you thought be reviewing.
Should I continue?
I know that this chapter was kind of depressing but its all part of the plan.
Let me know!
Review!
Follow me on instagram: lovebooks14
THANK YOU FOR READING