Chapter Five October 21 #2
I unbuckle my seat belt and turn to her.
“Are you okay?” I ask, even though I know there’s never a simple answer to that question.
Especially with everything going on. And that’s the thing.
No matter how devastating something is, life continues to go on.
You still have to eat. You still need to shower and answer simple questions like “How are you?” You still have to be when being seems like the hardest task of all.
“Yeah.” She wipes at the corners of her eyes and laughs.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to off myself or anything like that.
I’m just…” Her voice trails off and she runs her hands down her face before they land on her stomach.
“I want this baby. I really do. I know that messes up Mom and Dad’s plans for me, and your life, too, but I want her. And I’m going to have her.”
I nod, because my throat is constricting too much for anything coherent to come out. It isn’t often Georgie shows her vulnerable side, and when she does, admittedly, it makes me a little uncomfortable.
“Are you going to marry Zach?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think so.”
“Are you ever coming back to school?” I ask.
“Not sure. Online learning feels a bit safer, you know?”
“Yeah.” I stop firing off questions because she looks exhausted. And not the kind of exhausted that goes away with sleep.
“I’m sorry I did this to you,” she says quietly. I can almost hear her fighting to hold back tears. She’s so strong. Even now.
I’m the one who should be apologizing. I wished this baby away. A baby my sister clearly wants and loves. A baby she’s already started calling “her,” like she knows it will be a girl.
“I just want everyone to be happy,” I say, not realizing how naive my words sound until they’re out of my mouth.
“If you never hear anything else I ever say to you, hear this,” she says, looking deep into my eyes.
The blue glow of the building’s lights shines into her car, reflecting off the light layer of dust on the dashboard.
“Stop worrying about making other people happy. It’s impossible.
The only thing you can control is your own happiness, and even that is questionable. Okay?”
“Okay,” I respond, but only because you can’t really turn away advice like that.
You can’t say, “No. I won’t run myself into the ground making sure others are happy” even though it’s basically how I’ve lived my life so far.
I just have a really hard time feeling joy when my parents are upset.
Especially when that anger is directed toward me.
I don’t understand people who can go on living life like they exist in an alternate timeline.
One where the earth isn’t dying and children aren’t losing their lives at the hands of taxpayer-funded military forces while so-called democracies resort to fascist extremes to control their citizens.
Couldn’t be me. I feel too much. I wish I didn’t, but I’m soft.
I’m sensitive. And to the outside world, it makes me look like a big, weak baby.
It’s probably why so many people infantilize me.
My phone buzzes. “It’s Andie,” I say, holding it up.
“Go. Have fun. I’ll be here at ten, okay?”
“But the movie will probably end before then,” I say.
“Then find another way to kill some time.” She grins, and I smile back at her before leaving the car and walking to the theater.
“Lennon!” Andie squeals from the foyer, like she didn’t see me just a few minutes ago. She runs to me, her enviable waist showcased under her crop top. She locks arms with me, and Dean trails behind us as we step onto the escalator.
“What movie are we seeing?” I ask. The scent of popcorn and fake butter is so strong, I can almost taste the salt on my lips.
“The one with what’s-his-face? The guy who played Spiderman.”
“That narrows it down,” I scoff.
“Here.” She slides a card into my hand as we get off the escalator. “Can you get us some popcorn and Cokes and some fruity candy for me? My treat. Pin is 2235.”
“Sure,” I say as she joins Dean who is talking to a group of guys. My eyes latch with one of them.
It takes me a second—my brain sometimes struggles to recognize people out of context—but it’s him.
John breaks from the group and walks toward me. “Hey, how’s it going?” he says with a nod as he keeps walking.
He keeps walking.
Frozen in place, I cover my open mouth with my hand.
Hey, how’s it going? That’s it? Here I was searching my brain for the right conversation starter only for John to stroll right by me.
Glad I didn’t open up to Andie and tell her my true feelings about John.
Saved myself some humiliation. I guess there really is nothing between us.
Maybe I should just be happy he acknowledged my existence at all.
I really should have just stayed home. It’s safer there.
A few minutes later, John comes out of the restroom and smiles as Avery and a group of her friends approach him. My eyes zero in on their hands and I watch as their fingers interlock. She’s so lucky, and she doesn’t even know it.
I force myself to leave this place where my feet seem glued to the carpet and walk to the concession stand. My heart is racing and I barely remember the order when the guy behind the counter asks me what I want.
“Miss?” he says as I struggle with the pin.
“There. Sorry,” I say, looking up at him.
He doesn’t accept my apology or even fake a smile. He only hands me the receipt, the snacks, and the drinks.
“Can I have a tray, please?”
He sighs heavily as he passes one to me.
I move to the side to gather everything. When the girl behind me places her order, the worker’s face transforms. I turn back to see that it’s Avery. Of course he’s nicer to her. It’s no secret that good-looking people are treated better. Just another hit for my confidence.
At this point, I’m ready to walk all the way home just so I can cry in peace.
I hate it here. In the real world. Around people who instinctively know how to act and be.
Just because I’m not a pretty blonde who knows how to place an order doesn’t mean I deserve to be treated rudely.
Maybe he wasn’t rude, though. It can’t be easy working at a movie theater on a Friday night.
I shouldn’t have let Andie talk me into this.
God, I can’t even go to a movie like a normal person without spiraling.
But then, I was fine until I saw John. Hey, how’s it going? It’s NOT GOING WELL!
After dropping off the snacks and drinks to Andie inside the theater, I tell her I’m going to sit at a table and write. She offers to sit with me until I feel better. I’d rather be alone, though, and she knows that. I’m not trying to push her away, but I can’t be around her and Dean right now.
There’s a handful of small, round tables by the escalators. I sit at the cleanest-looking one and pull out my notebook. Maybe if I can get the words out and onto the page, I’ll start to feel better. Exhaling a deep breath, I put my earbuds in and start writing.
“Lennon.”
My hand shakes as I peel my eyes away from my notebook. Slamming it shut, I pull out an earbud.
“Sorry. Did I scare you? I was saying your name over and over, but you weren’t responding,” John says.
“I was listening to music,” I say, removing the second earbud.
“Why aren’t you in the theater with Andie?” John asks, still standing, hovering.
“I changed my mind about watching the movie.”
“Is it a sensory thing?” he asks, rather astutely. Too astutely.
“How do you know I’m autistic?” I blurt.
He shakes his head. “I didn’t. I just noticed you’re often wearing earbuds or headphones. So I thought, maybe you don’t like loud noises, or maybe it’s so random guys don’t bother you,” he says, almost laughing to himself.
“I don’t really get triggered by loud noises. And I don’t wear headphones to keep people away. It’s just…I like music.”