Morphine

eighteen : slap in the face

Mum's friend, Meredith, who agreed to tutor me turned out to be very nosy. She constantly keeps trying to get a detailed confession out of me. I figured mum didn't tell her anything more than necessary. Once she asked "Why do you need crutches?" And I lied and told her that I twisted my ankle while playing football. She continued to ask more. "Yes but how exactly did it happen?" I was about to tell her a short story when she said, "Also, how much do the crutches cost?"

But she teaches well and always scolds me for being lethargic which angers me and results in me working twice as harder.

I feel like my life is a sitcom. Only certain days are eventful and worth making an episode about. Then the story continues with weeks of gap between each episode. The rest of the days I just tune out. Sometimes it's really hard to convince myself that I'm the one living my life, not just floating around anticipating what will happen.

Two weeks into college and still nothing has happened between Chase and me. After long hours of pondering over what I said, I realised I hurt him more than I intended to. It was cruel of me to want to get back at him that way after he'd given me the sweetest apology. But it was also a reminder of how easily things can be taken away and that I was not ready to start over and over again on my life. I see him every day but I'm forced to look away because I know I won't be able to bear the sadness in his eyes when he doesn't bother forcing a smile.

Milan hasn't been talking to me either. He lost his zeal when he heard what I did to his best friend. He hasn't spoken to me about it, but his silence tells me that he is angry but it's also not his place to be angry.

I still haven't made any new friends of my own. Milan and Toshio seem to have become good friends so they have lunch together forcing me to bear the awkwardness between Chase and me. Today, I decide not to do that.

After my first two hours of biology and an hour of physics, I have an hour of break before the next three hours. I decide to find another place to have lunch at rather than sit with them.

I settle in the amphitheatre after buying a nice big cup of coffee. Everyone walks around, chit-chatting. It's a normal day.

Looking around, I try focussing on the groups of people scattered around. It helps to get my mind off of my life. Most of them just sit together and use their respective phones, not bothering to make conversation. I immediately look away, not willing to think about how I didn't have many friends let alone time to spend with them.

Just when I think that that's what almost everyone is doing, I spot a group of about five to six students standing and watching two people beating each other. At first I think they're fighting but then I notice that they stop after each punch or kick and talk to each other.

Then they switch and another pair starts fighting. I know what that is.

I grab my crutches and trot my way over to them as fast as my legs allow. As I get closer, I see that they are quite serious about what they're doing, but they're also enjoying themselves. It fills me with a kind of hope.

It's a group of people trying to learn how to defend themselves in a physical fight.

I see one guy, just a few inches taller than me, telling them that they're stance is not strong enough or that their focus is not in the fight. I figure he's the head.

It's not a professional martial arts class or anything but it's something that will help. There is no way I am letting this opportunity slide away.

When I reach them I suddenly feel very nervous. What if they reject me or laugh at me? What if they are mean and unaccepting?

I squish those thoughts and say, "Hello?" to the guy who seemed like the head.