OPEN YOUR EYES

Chapter 10: Change of Heart – Ephram

                It had been two months since our fight. Two months since Colin had woken up. Two months since I kissed her. Two months since I actually looked her in the eyes. Two months since we'd even spoken.

                Two months of nothing.

                My life…well, I would wake up, go to school, play piano, come home, do my homework, read a comic book or two, and go to sleep. And then I'd wake up the next day and do it over again. I was living, but I wasn't really living. I was there, but I was just going through the motions. Other people didn't exist in my world. I tried to not allow myself to be anything but this rock, with no feelings, no interests, no nothing.

                Sometimes I went out—by myself, to get breakfast or something at the diner. Occasionally, Delia tagged along, but I was almost always by myself. I think I've seen Amy a couple of times—with Colin and her brother. Usually at the first sighting I flicker my eyes away and pretend to be unusally interested in whatever song I'm listening to or whatever dumb thing Delia's saying.

Colin—at school he seems like a kind of…well, an asshole. We've never exchanged a word. I don't even know if he knows that my dad did his surgery. But I watched him sometimes, when nobody else thought I was looking, and he was always laughing and flirting and the center of attention. He was a variation of Bright, only he had everything. Never with Amy. Amy was always by his side, but it seemed like he didn't give her much attention. She looked so pathetic sometimes that I would just want to…but then I'd catch myself and think, Her fault. And now she knows how wonderful it is to waste all your time on someone who doesn't care.

I didn't really know what their status was—when eavesdropping on my dad and Nina, sometimes I caught a few things, like that Colin didn't know he was her boyfriend. Sometimes my mind would start to wander, and think about how Amy was feeling, but I always caught myself.

Whenever I found myself thinking about anything that might cause a dramatic emotion, I'd pull out a comic book and drown my thoughts with loud music. As for my dad…generally, my dad and I were on this "leave the room when you see the other one coming" kind of thing. And it was calm that way. He didn't try to talk to me anymore except for casual comments and meaningless questions.

My life may not have been eventful or exciting, but at least I had some control. At least it was manageable. It might not have been ideal, but at least there was no screaming and yelling and no broken hearts. No crazy girls sending my emotions into turmoil, and no psycho fathers making my stomach churn.

The only times I ever really thought were when I was alone I the dark at night, with no colorful surroundings or loud music or comic books to distract me. It was then that I'd think about how alone I was. The only person I really had was Delia, but she was too young to understand how much I needed her.

Wait, needed her? A kid? Come on, you don't need anyone. You're cool on your own, I assured myself constantly. During the day, it was okay. I believed it.

It was during one of these nighttime thinking sessions that I realized how little meaning my life had, and how much it really sucked. I needed something back, or I would just die off. I needed reality. Calm and painless as my life may have been, it was also lonely.

'Tis better to have loved and lost then to never have loved at all.

I think I finally understood.

***

                The next morning, I woke up and sleepily glanced over at my clock.

                "7:30!" I groaned. "Shit, I missed the bus!"

                I quickly tugged on the first things I could find in my closet, grabbed my backpack, and ran downstairs. My dad was standing in the kitchen, grabbing his keys off the counter, when he saw me come in.

                "You missed the bus," he said impatiently, tapping his foot and nodding his head towards the clock.

                "I know," I responded flatly. One of those comments that couldn't induce any emotions; that was what our conversations consisted of. If you could even call them that. Hold on. I thought I decided this last night…I need something to happen in my life. Enough of this no-emotion bullshit. I'm done. "You could've woken me up," I added spitefully.

                He gave a strange look and commented, "Oh, so now we're back to this again. Come on, I'll give you a ride."

                What?! "But…" I began, shocked, so shocked that I didn't bother trying to hide my surprise. "You'll be late."

                "So?" he shrugged nonchalantly. "A few patients have to wait a few minutes. Can't let you be late."

                I shrugged too. "Yeah, whatever," I retorted, like I didn't care one way or the other.

                But inside, I was trying to hold back a smile. Maybe he was changing. Maybe he'd been changing all along, and I just had been dwelling on the past too much to notice. And though it wasn't much, it was a start. Because the hidden message behind his nonchalantness towards the patients was that finally, for the very first time…he put me before them. That's all I ever wanted from him. That was a good father. Son first. So I hesitantly added, "Thanks."

                As I followed him outside, I couldn't help but notice that he, too, was holding back a smile.