Chapter 22: Stress

Ms. Fared loved my paper. She said it brought her to tears, it was so powerful. I don’t get how words can move people to tears, but at the same time I do. My words remind me of my past, which makes me feel stale feelings again. Reminds me of who I was.

The second half of Junior year was basically just preparation for Senior year. I took driver’s ed again, and failed it again. I went to the doctor and was told I might never be able to drive, due to my late reaction times and my failure to see clearly 100% of the time. My vision had a tendency to blur, but I always just tolerated it because crappy vision is better than no vision at all.

Mom told me not to stress out about the not being able to drive thing. It’s amazing that I could even halfway function as a normal human being, so I should have been grateful for what I had.

Then there were the college applications.

I didn’t want to even think about colleges until senior year, but we were bombarded with letters starting January. A bunch of colleges were dying to have me.

James got no letters.

Summer was great. I was given the freedom to do a lot more things; I even got a job at the local PetSmart. All the dogs seemed to love me, for some reason. Probably because I used to be blind. Could they tell?

I’d come home and Derek would sneeze on the dog fur that clung onto my clothes, so my mom yelled at me to wash them.

Ryan worked at the pet store with me, but in public we had to act friendzone-y in case a disapproving elderly couple walked by. It was dumb to be that sensitive to other people’s feelings, I know, but it was Ryan’s idea.

Ryan came out to his parents and they hardly minded at all. They were less rigid and conservative than mine. Plus, I think they expected it.

He said it was a really big weight off his shoulders to tell his parents about his sexuality. I assured him I would soon, but I had to wait till the right moment.

--

Senior year was strangely free. All the younger kids were scared of us; we were no longer at the bottom of the food chain.

During spirit week we painted our face with blue, the class color. We stomped around the cafeteria, hollering and scaring the hell out of the freshmen. It was great.

College applications were another story.

“Where are you going to go to college? You’ve applied for like, ten different places already. Any colleges in mind?” Mom was flipping pancakes.

“I was thinking about NYU. It has a really good history, and it’s in our budget.”

Mom stopped flipping and turned to face me. “As in, New York? But that’s so far away.”

That’s kinda the point.

--