If everyone cared and nobody cried
If everyone loved and nobody lied
If everyone shared and swallowed their pride
We'd see the day when nobody died
- Nickleback, If Everyone Cared
My father made me an appointment at the school consoler's office today. He thinks it would be easier for me to talk with a specialist about my problems than to him, or mother. I waited, nervously sitting on a chair next to grey doors until the woman's voice called me to come in. Just as I grabbed a cold knob, someone pulled the door open from inside. A blonde haired girl stepped out, her face covered with blurred black mascara. Trying to be nice, I smiled at her, but she just passed by me like I'm not there.
Unlike the blond girl, Ms. Morell is shining with energy. "How do you like Beacon Hills High School, Abigail?" She folded some notes back in her wooden desk and pulled out new ones.
The chair in the office is much more comfortable than the one outside. "So far so good."
Flashbacks from San Francisco surprised me. I never thought I'll miss my old school. Back there, things were much simpler. Students here are different, so are the teachers. Actually, every single thing is different. "Do you like the change?" Dark haired woman lifted her chin.
"No. I just realized that." Some sort of nostalgia showed up in my heart. "After moving so much, one would think it became a habit. But truthfully, I'm not a big fan of changes."
I expected to see some confusion in her facial expression, but the woman in front of me showed no emotions. At least neither of them is visible to me. "Sometimes, changes are good." Ms. Morell said.
I glanced around the room. Her table is full of books about psychology, written mostly on Latin. The walls are not bare as the most of offices in the school are, these are covered with pictures, posters and bookshelves. There's even a flower in the corner. For some reason, I found it comforting. "Except when they are not."
She let go a slight laugh. "Think about the possibilities of starting a new life."
"Think about the possibilities of starting a new life, just to leave it behind after few months." I sounded so pessimistic, it made my stomach sick. But it was the truth.
"That is the problem, then." Ms. Morell stated, her eyes locked on mine. She is smart woman, and she reminds of Kate. "You are lonely."
Her words cut me deep. I felt revealed and wounded. My deepest fears are starting new friendships again, and then break them. It became hard to me to let people in after leaving so many behind. I feel lonely, and all those feelings are rotting inside of me.
My throat huddled, keeping the words inside. There isn't anything to say. We both knew what is wrong with me. Now I'm waiting for her to tell me what to do about it.
"Frank Herbert said that fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. Let's make a deal," psychiatrist requested. "I give you two weeks. Find a friend."
"Deals are usually two sided," I explained with annoyed tone in my voice.
"This one will be one sided. I don't want anything from you except to find at least one friend. Then you come here, one last time."
"If I find a friend, I'm free from all the treatments?" This wasn't an actual treatment, more like just an forced conversation.
"You won't need me anymore."
Why this felt like I'm making a deal with a devil? After the end of our appointment, I headed toward my locker to change books. The hallway was half empty, because next class already started. My Economy teacher won't be happy when I enter the classroom, late. I rushed to second floor, skipping two stairs at once.
As I assumed, coach Finstock gave me a disapproving look. His gaze followed me all the way to my seat. Five minute lecture about being late followed. As soon as he shut his mouth, brown haired boy turned and smiled at me. "Do you have a pencil?" I whispered after cursing under my breath for leaving mine in a locker. Stiles nodded and handed me a yellow pen.
For the rest of the class I spent trying to catch up what the man was talking about. He made none sense at all. I mean, it was the coach, nothing he says makes sense… And Stiles sitting in front of me wasn't helping at all, my eyes glanced at him now and then, making me even more confused.
It's the last bell for the day, students shouted happily as soon as it rang. I could see that they were tired and dried out. Only Stiles stood out, with his excess energy. Hyperactive boy pushed his books back in blue backpack, dropping something on the floor by accident.
Cliché. One drops something, the other tries to pick it up, but the person who dropped the thing also does the same. And they touch. But I was quicker than Stiles, so the cliché went down in the rain.
"Thanks," Stiles says, grabbing his notebook from his hands.
"No problem." I replied, about to leave the classroom when he asked me if I needed his notes.
At first I thought I could just borrow Allison's, but then I remembered Ms. Morell's words: Find a friend.
He knows about Allison, my sister, who's the same age as me and goes to the same classes. But he handed me his notes anyway. He's just being kind, that's all I thought as I accepted the notes with a smile.
"Abbigail?" Brown haired boy called for me again.
I stopped on the spot, an even bigger smile forming on my face. "If I wanted to share something with you…"
Confusion filled me. "I'm a good listener. Not a good talker, though." I said, slightly excited. No one except Allison actually shared a secret or thoughts with me before. But I kept hers, still deep inside my mind.
"Do you have time to listen, then?" Stiles asked calmly, too calmly. I wasn't used to see him as a normal person, talking like a normal human being without waving his hands all around him. Something in me woke up, I haven't felt that way in a while, excited and nervous at the same time.
Well, it's not going so well as I thought it would. But I'm still continuing with it.