A Tragic Kind of Wonderful

*

As soon as we get home I move my bike out to the garage. Dad asks what I’m doing and I say, “Putting it where it belongs.” No one says anything to that, and I feel bad for saying it. Nobody knows the reason I ran to the bridge on foot was because I couldn’t get my bike out of the house without being heard. I have no immediate plans on doing it again, but if I need to, I want my bike.

Mom makes me a grilled cheese though I’m not hungry. I quit halfway through and no one tries to make me finish it. Aunt Joan asks about the envelope Zumi gave me. I’d forgotten it was in my hand till I had to set it down to eat. It’s blank and sealed. When I don’t say anything she lets it drop.

I say I’m worn out and want to go lie down in my room. Everyone walks me there. Mom slides the trash can over to hold my door open. No one says anything about it. I’m fine with that.

After more hugs, Dad leaves. So does HJ. Back to work. It’s Friday.

I don’t want to open Zumi’s envelope. I don’t want it haunting me, either. I try to block it out but my superpower hasn’t come back. Maybe it’s gone for good.

Dear Mel,

My phone really did break and I didn’t get a new one till Tuesday morning. Then Dr. Jordan told me you were on the run and something terrible could happen if we didn’t get you back. Your mom gave us the password to track your phone so we could hit refresh over and over while she was out driving around looking for you. When you popped up near the Presidio, I jumped in my car to drive up while Dr. Jordan called your mom to tell her I was going to get you. He said you might be paranoid, and the only way to get you back would be to pretend I didn’t know anything, and tell you I was taking you somewhere but drive you home instead so they could check you into a hospital.

I gave Zumi this note since you probably don’t want to see me now, but I hope you don’t want me to stay away for long. I hope you can forgive me.

Dr. Jordan said I did the right thing but it doesn’t feel like it. He wasn’t there. And I don’t care what HE thinks. I care what YOU think. Now that you’re home safe, are you glad I did it? I hope you can tell me at least that much because even if it was the right thing I still feel like the worst kind of asshole.

I think I know maybe five percent of you now and I still haven’t seen anything I don’t like. I didn’t like how you were upset, but finding out you’ve been carrying all this around and able to keep it together, it makes me like you even more. I understand if you hate me now but I really hope you don’t. Either way, I’m here for you.

David

My plan backfired. I thought reading this would let me forget about it but it’s making me think more.

I text him:

I understand.

He answers right away:

But are you glad?

I think about what I want to say. It’s not easy.

He texts again:

Please tell me the truth.

Even if it’s hard.

I think with David the path of least resistance is the absolute truth.

You lied to me.

I’m sorry. Dr. Jordan said

it was the only safe way

to get you home.

But now I can’t trust you

anymore. I’ll always wonder

if you’re doing it again.

Dr. Jordan said you weren’t

thinking straight. He said if I told

the truth, we might lose you.

I have to go.

Tell me how to do it right

and I will.

Do what right? How to act

around someone whose brain

doesn’t work like yours?

That’s not how I think of you.

Then why did you lie to me??

I take deep breaths to try to calm my heart.

I wish I didn’t. I promise I

will NEVER do it again.

Not even to save your life.

That’s another lie! You expect

me to believe you’d stand there

and let me jump off a bridge?

No. I’d grab your hand and

not let go. But I won’t lie or

trick you again.

What if you think I’m having

an episode when I’m not?

I don’t see how this can work.

I’ll never know when you

might be trying to trap me.

I will NEVER do it again no

matter what I think. I regret

it now more than anything.

Please give me another chance.

My eyes itch. I type:

I have to go.

Please don’t give up on me.

I want to switch off my phone now except Mom made me promise not to. I put it on Do Not Disturb to leave it on but stop it from telling me if anyone calls or texts.

Even if I were like everybody else, I think I’d still be very mixed right now.





HAMSTER IS RUNNING

HUMMINGBIRD IS FLYING

HAMMERHEAD IS SLOGGING

HANNIGANIMAL IS CRASHING/MIXED

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