………………………………………….
Maybe I'm the one…
………………………………………….
I parked the car in the school parking lot and made my way to the school. The ugly school, with its peach colored bricks and green doors. It looked like someone had used vomit as their color pallet. Honestly, why orange and green?
Besides the fact that I was going to school, I felt pretty good about today. I mean, Rob was at school, right? So it couldn't be that bad.
I made my way to my locker through the crowd. When the crowd parted for me I felt a bit embarrassed. I knew what they were talking about. I knew that my story had been all over the news.
I was now the latest target for gossip. Yipee.
I opened my locker and carefully lifted my bag inside. Despite resting at home for a week, my back was still sore. The doctor was supposed to take the bandage off yesterday, but the wounds weren't as healed as he would like. Another week, he had said, just to be safe.
I mentioned that it was itchy, but the doctor had ignored me. Maybe he had selective hearing, or something.
A pair of strong arms circled around my waist, and I stiffened. Then I realized it wasn't Jeff, it was Rob. Yeah, I know. I was a little paranoid. Just a little.
I relaxed into his hug and leaned my head on his chest. "Good morning!"
"Good morning," Rob mumbled. "How's the back?"
"The doctor said I had to keep the bandage on," I pouted.
Rob kissed me lightly on the cheek, and I giggled softly.
I could practically feel everyone staring at us. Probably half of them were disgusted by our PDA. (For those of you who don't know, PDA stands for Public Display of Affection.) The other half was probably storing info for gossip later. Honestly, these people had nothing better to do than talk about me?!
I laughed at the strangeness of it all. Then I kissed the underside of Rob's jaw, wiggled out of his grasp, and took off for class. If I was late for English again, Ms Barb would definitely give me detention.
As Ms Barb took attendance, the daily announcements were read out over the intercom. Stuff about sports, and clubs. I generally didn't even listen to announcement. Who wants to listen to such falsely cheerful voices at this time in the morning?!
But today, one announcement particularly caught my attention.
"Would Emily Richler please come down to the office after the announcements."
Instantly, every person in the class turned around and sideways and looked at me. I felt my cheeks heat up slightly as I stood up. Ms Barb nodded and I –reluctantly- left the class.
I ran through all the rules I had broken over the last couple weeks as I walked down the deserted hallway. Nothing major, I would think. A few skipped classes. But that would only add up to a couple detentions. So why was I being called down to the office?
As soon as I opened the door, I was ushered into the Vice Principal's room. His name was Mr. Vince, and I had yet to meet him in all my years of high school. In general I wasn't really a bad kid, so I've never really gotten in trouble. I've never even been in Mr. Vince's office.
To be honest, his office wasn't that bad. I mean, it was tacky looking, but it wasn't scary or anything. I sat down on the red plastic chair and waited for the V.P.
I glanced disdainfully over his desk. It was covered in tacky antique-but-not-really stuff that you'd find in a flea market.
The only thing worth noting in the entire room was the giant trophy case that stood in the right hand corner. Academic awards were kept in there.
To think that my name will never end up engraved on one of those dusty trophies.
I smiled. School used to be important to me, but now I just didn't care. I wasn't really sure why I didn't care; I just didn't. Not since Pat died.
I froze. It had been so long since I had thought of Pat's death. The memories came back to me, all flooding back bit by bit.
Each memory was still there, but for some reason, I wasn't pained by them. I accepted them, like when someone accepts that their child is getting their tooth pulled but will be back in an hour.
It was like, I thought that Pat was just going to walk around the corner and hug me hello or something.
Shit.
This was all Jeff's fault.
"Emily," I said to myself quietly, resisting the urge to pull at my hair. "Pat is not coming back. He is dead."
But even to me, those words lacked conviction.
I bowed my head into my hands and groaned.
This was all Jeff's fault.
"Good morning, Ms Richler."
Mr. Vince stepped into the office. His balding head clearly screamed "I'm fifty years old!" and so did his formal suit. He had a funny tie on- with blue fish and red water. I stared at his tie for a moment before snapping back to attention.
"Morning, Mr. Vince."
Vince made his way to his chair and sat down. "I trust your day is going well."
"I like your tie," I told him, completely ignoring his comment.
"Thank you. My son bought it for me." His son must be like five years old. "Do you know why you've been called down, Ms Richler?"
"Not really," I said vaguely.
The door opened behind me, and a new figure stepped into the room. It was our principal, Mr. Quaker.
Jeff and I used to always make fun of his name. We called him Mr. Quacker- quack quack. Well, it was funny at the time.
I missed those fun times with Jeff.
"We've called you down to formally apologize." Quaker said. "Our school is supposed to be very safe. Safe enough for you to be able to watch a football game without getting hurt."
"We're sorry that this has happened," Vince added. "It's our duty to watch out for our students. If only we had known sooner-"
"Its fine," I said, my voice flat. I moved my gaze away from their guilty faces and fixed it on the desk. "Like my mom says, there's no use crying over spilt milk."
"We want to know how you've been holding up." Quaker (quack, quack) said again.
"Everything's fine," I told them, smiling falsely. "It'll take me awhile to get over some things. He was my best friend. But I'll be fine."
"The incident could have been a lot worse," Vince said thoughtfully. "But I imagine you are still traumatized by it."
"Not really..."
"You took a week off of school to rest, correct?" Quaker asked.
"To help my back heal…"
"Your mother told us you needed to sleep off the incident," Vince pointed out.
"I'm fine!"
"And something else-"
"About the other incident, a year ago-"
"We've kept an eye on you. Both us and your parents. And we've both agreed that you haven't been acting yourself since Pat… passed away."
"Wait a min-"
"Your grades are slipping," Vince said patiently. "You've been skipping classes more and more. You've stopped keeping in touch with most of your friends. You've dropped all your hobbies."
"That doesn't mean I'm not myself." I argued back. "Where are you going with this?!"
"We've left you alone for a whole year," Quaker said. "Your mother thought you could work this out on your own. But it's clear that you can't, or won't. And both your parents agree."
"What do you mean, work it out?" I glared at Mr. Quaker. "This isn't some kind of math problem!"
"We want you to see the local psychiatrist," Mr. Vince said, finally getting to the point. I stared at him blankly for a minute, before my face started to burn.
"I don't need to see a freakin' psychopathist!" I yelled, standing now. "I'm not a psycho! I'm over Pat! He's dead, and I'm never going to see him again! I know that!"
I think my yelling just made them all the more smug.
"You also have little control over your emotions," Quaker pointed out smugly. "All the better reason to see a psychiatrist."
"I'm fine," I said lowly. "And I won't see any psychopathists."
"Psychiatrist."
"Whatever."
I shoved my way past Mr. Quaker to the door. I didn't care that these two were the rulers of the school. They were clearly the crazy ones, and I was leaving whether they like it or not.
"Your parents have already agreed," Mr. Vince called out. "Your mom will drive you to all your appointments. Eddie will be expecting you."
"Trust me Ms Richler," Mr Quaker said. I imagined him turning into a duck and then slaughtering him and roasting him over an open campfire. "It's for the best."
I turned around and gave him the finger. Then I left.
…………………………………………..
Author's note: I love this chapter because it shows just how closed minded some people are. They believe that they can help her, even though she doesn't really need help.
It also reminds me of when someone dies… you know, it takes a long time to get over that sort of thing. More than a year. And other people who haven't experienced a loved one die, they just don't get that. They think that a couple months of mourning is okay, and after that you're just being a party pooper.
sigh Oh well, enough of my ranting.
Thanks to: bloodygirl, Italiangurlinamessedupworld, Usagimiyuki, Ihaconch, porkypick, raeroochella, LaLaFeary and Bumbledbee! Love you guys!
-Maybe I'm the one- Psycho, by Puddle of Mud