When we got there, Lisa got out of the car, but I didn't move. Not that I could have even if I wanted to, not with that damn wheelchair. I knew I needed it, but it really was a pain.
Lisa came around the front to my side of the car. Once she had gotten me out, she started walking to the door, and I wheeled on behind her. When she opened the door, and I went in, the first thing I noticed was the noise. My house, with my parents prim and proper rules about what a household should be, was never loud. This place sounded like a bomb was going off all the time. Lisa led me down a hall, and opened one of the doors.
Inside, a girl was stretched out across her bed, listening to headphones and reading a book. She looked up as the door opened, and then she took off her headphones.
"Stephanie, this is Ellie. Ellie, this is your roommate. She'll help you out today so you know how things work around here. Ellie, I know you don't have any clothes or anything yet, but the police officer who was heading over to your house will have you mother pick out a few things you'll need here."
"I won't be getting anything from her then," I muttered under my breath. Luckily, Lisa didn't hear me.
"I'm sure you two will get along great," Lisa said, and then left, closing the door behind her.
I didn't say anything to Stephanie, and she didn't say anything to me either. She stared at me for a few minutes, looking me up and down. I knew I should probably try to make conversation, but I was so tired that I couldn't bring myself to care. I wanted to crawl into bed, but I knew that was going to be hard.
I struggled for a while, hoping someone would help me out, but Stephanie didn't budge and no one else came in. Finally, 10 minutes later, with Stephanie watching my every move, I crawled into bed and got under the covers. Within minutes I was fast asleep.
I woke up two hours later, and Stephanie was still sitting on her bed listening to music. However, she now had a new book, The Great Gatsby. I yawned, and stretched, popping my shoulders back into place. They always got out of line when I slept.
The pop must have been pretty loud, because Stephanie took off her headphones. "Awake?" she asked me.
"Yeah."
"Hungry?"
"A little."
"In the mood for people?"
"Not particularly."
She nodded in understanding, and opened her dresser drawer. Inside was hidden about five pieces of fruit. "I'm not supposed to have these. It's against the rule to keep food in the rooms."
"I'm not going to tell anyone."
She nodded approvingly, and threw me an apple. I thanked her, and started eating, just staring off into space.
"Want to borrow a book?" she asked me.
"Yeah."
"Got a preference?"
"Poetry, if you have it. Poe or Dickinson."
"Sure," she said, tossing me a book of Emily Dickinson's poems. We sat in silence for a while, over an hour in fact, just reading. Well, I was eating my apple too. Finally she put down her book. Looking at me she said, "Best book ever."
"Really?" I asked, not sure if I really wanted to get into a conversation, but not really able to help it. "I didn't think it was that great. I liked it, don't get me wrong, the ending was realistic, but I didn't like the beginning. I thought it was too slow."
"Interesting…" she said, thinking about it for a minute. Then she replied, "but didn't you think the plot more than made up for the slow beginning?"
"The way I see it, for a book to be really great, you shouldn't have to outweigh positives with negatives. You should just finish the book, and automatically love it. I didn't."
"You read poetry?"
"Sometimes," I replied. "Actually, I really asked you for those because I figured you'd have them and I wouldn't have to go through a mile long list to find a book you had that I wanted to read. But yeah, poetry is always good."
"Best book ever?" she asked me.
"Catch-22," I replied without blinking an eye.
"Best TV show ever?" she asked.
"Cartoon or real people?"
"Either."
"The Grim Adventures of Bill and Mandy with Daria as a close second. I like cartoons."
"Favorite food?"
"Spaghetti with meatless sauce. My friend's mom makes it best."
"Ok, your turn," she told me.
"Favorite color?"
"Yellow."
I looked at her, disbelieving. She was wearing all black. But I accepted that answer anyway.
"Favorite school subject?"
"English."
"What you want to do with your life."
"School counselor." She looked at me for a minute. Then she said, "And now, for the one required question. Everyone in here has to have at least one person ask him or her. Why are you here?"
I hesitated, but then replied, "My dad beats me."
She winced. "That's what happened to my last roommate. She used to scream in her sleep."
"And you?"
"My mom killed my dad when I was little because he beat on her. Then she killed herself."
"How old were you?"
"Three. Not old enough to remember anything." She turned over and looked at her clock. "Hmmm, 9 o'clock. In the mood for some real dinner? The big crowd will have all left by now."
"Sure," I said, even though I really wasn't. I wanted to hang around her for a while longer, and since she had invited me…well, I'd eat.
We headed into the kitchen, where there were some remains of fixings for sandwiches. I made myself a cheese and veggie sandwich. Then, making sure no one else was around, we headed back to our room. After eating, she pulled out another book from under her bed and threw it to me.
"The Perks of Being a Wallflower," I read out loud.
"I think you'll like it," she said, grabbing a book for herself.
We read ourselves to sleep.
Lisa came around the front to my side of the car. Once she had gotten me out, she started walking to the door, and I wheeled on behind her. When she opened the door, and I went in, the first thing I noticed was the noise. My house, with my parents prim and proper rules about what a household should be, was never loud. This place sounded like a bomb was going off all the time. Lisa led me down a hall, and opened one of the doors.
Inside, a girl was stretched out across her bed, listening to headphones and reading a book. She looked up as the door opened, and then she took off her headphones.
"Stephanie, this is Ellie. Ellie, this is your roommate. She'll help you out today so you know how things work around here. Ellie, I know you don't have any clothes or anything yet, but the police officer who was heading over to your house will have you mother pick out a few things you'll need here."
"I won't be getting anything from her then," I muttered under my breath. Luckily, Lisa didn't hear me.
"I'm sure you two will get along great," Lisa said, and then left, closing the door behind her.
I didn't say anything to Stephanie, and she didn't say anything to me either. She stared at me for a few minutes, looking me up and down. I knew I should probably try to make conversation, but I was so tired that I couldn't bring myself to care. I wanted to crawl into bed, but I knew that was going to be hard.
I struggled for a while, hoping someone would help me out, but Stephanie didn't budge and no one else came in. Finally, 10 minutes later, with Stephanie watching my every move, I crawled into bed and got under the covers. Within minutes I was fast asleep.
I woke up two hours later, and Stephanie was still sitting on her bed listening to music. However, she now had a new book, The Great Gatsby. I yawned, and stretched, popping my shoulders back into place. They always got out of line when I slept.
The pop must have been pretty loud, because Stephanie took off her headphones. "Awake?" she asked me.
"Yeah."
"Hungry?"
"A little."
"In the mood for people?"
"Not particularly."
She nodded in understanding, and opened her dresser drawer. Inside was hidden about five pieces of fruit. "I'm not supposed to have these. It's against the rule to keep food in the rooms."
"I'm not going to tell anyone."
She nodded approvingly, and threw me an apple. I thanked her, and started eating, just staring off into space.
"Want to borrow a book?" she asked me.
"Yeah."
"Got a preference?"
"Poetry, if you have it. Poe or Dickinson."
"Sure," she said, tossing me a book of Emily Dickinson's poems. We sat in silence for a while, over an hour in fact, just reading. Well, I was eating my apple too. Finally she put down her book. Looking at me she said, "Best book ever."
"Really?" I asked, not sure if I really wanted to get into a conversation, but not really able to help it. "I didn't think it was that great. I liked it, don't get me wrong, the ending was realistic, but I didn't like the beginning. I thought it was too slow."
"Interesting…" she said, thinking about it for a minute. Then she replied, "but didn't you think the plot more than made up for the slow beginning?"
"The way I see it, for a book to be really great, you shouldn't have to outweigh positives with negatives. You should just finish the book, and automatically love it. I didn't."
"You read poetry?"
"Sometimes," I replied. "Actually, I really asked you for those because I figured you'd have them and I wouldn't have to go through a mile long list to find a book you had that I wanted to read. But yeah, poetry is always good."
"Best book ever?" she asked me.
"Catch-22," I replied without blinking an eye.
"Best TV show ever?" she asked.
"Cartoon or real people?"
"Either."
"The Grim Adventures of Bill and Mandy with Daria as a close second. I like cartoons."
"Favorite food?"
"Spaghetti with meatless sauce. My friend's mom makes it best."
"Ok, your turn," she told me.
"Favorite color?"
"Yellow."
I looked at her, disbelieving. She was wearing all black. But I accepted that answer anyway.
"Favorite school subject?"
"English."
"What you want to do with your life."
"School counselor." She looked at me for a minute. Then she said, "And now, for the one required question. Everyone in here has to have at least one person ask him or her. Why are you here?"
I hesitated, but then replied, "My dad beats me."
She winced. "That's what happened to my last roommate. She used to scream in her sleep."
"And you?"
"My mom killed my dad when I was little because he beat on her. Then she killed herself."
"How old were you?"
"Three. Not old enough to remember anything." She turned over and looked at her clock. "Hmmm, 9 o'clock. In the mood for some real dinner? The big crowd will have all left by now."
"Sure," I said, even though I really wasn't. I wanted to hang around her for a while longer, and since she had invited me…well, I'd eat.
We headed into the kitchen, where there were some remains of fixings for sandwiches. I made myself a cheese and veggie sandwich. Then, making sure no one else was around, we headed back to our room. After eating, she pulled out another book from under her bed and threw it to me.
"The Perks of Being a Wallflower," I read out loud.
"I think you'll like it," she said, grabbing a book for herself.
We read ourselves to sleep.