The Misunderstanding of Fate

Chapter 8 - Friendless

It wasn't like I was angry with anyone, I was just tired. I was rock-bottom tired.

To make matters worse, dad and I had gotten into a slight argument on Monday over my upcoming birthday. It was on Saturday and he was insisting on cancelling his overtime shift in order to plan some celebrations. However, I know that we are not celebration type people. We would spend the day sitting on the couch watching crap television programmes and that was not something he should feel obligated to do. We had bickered back and forth for a while before dad settled on keeping his night shift. He then marched straight up to his room and we didn't speak for the rest of the night.

I was well aware that it wasn't my birthday that caused our intense and unnecessary emotions. An important fact I should mention is that my mother and I share a birthday. So, it wasn't my birthday that resulted in problems but my mother's. Truthfully, that was probably why I was even disagreeing with him. Of course I wanted my father to spend my birthday with me, especially since I hadn't seen him that much over the last couple of weeks. However, I knew he wouldn't enjoy it. If he spent the day with me, in our little house, I know dad would be constantly thinking about her. Work was the best option to avoid that situation.

Now, I has such conflicting feelings surrounding George. I needed someone. I think I needed someone to talk to. Yet, I know what the results would be. I'd be surrounded again, filled with uncertainty, but I wouldn't be alone. Last week, and the week before that and the week before that, I could have dealt with all of these emotions alone. Now, I was tired and I had a taste of what friendship was like and I wasn't sure if I liked it but I kind of wanted to try.

When George approaches me on Wednesday, I almost snap at him but I can't find the energy. My dad still wasn't happy about my birthday, although he hadn't cancelled his shift, resulting in tense conversations and slammed doors (mostly by me). Even though I know what's going through his head, I can't help but feel a little angry at him. I was choosing to spend my time here alone and he was angry with me?

The anger dissipates when he doesn't come home at the usual time. Instead, I hear him stumble through the door at one in the morning. When I exit my room, the smell is the first thing that hits me. Dad is hunched on the bottom step while his coat has been thrown on the floor along with his shoes. My teeth bite into my tongue painfully, stopping any tears that may leave, as I help him up the stairs and into his room. Once again, he's crying and mumbling about my mother, her birthday, and in that moment I don't think I've hated someone more. I refill his glass with some cold water and set his alarm for work knowing he will regret this in the morning. Once I've turned him on his side, I pull the blanket over him before returning to my room to get some sleep.

My eyes close. I fall asleep.

Getting called into the head teacher's office for a chat wasn't how I planned on spending my Friday morning. Exhausted, worrying about my father, and avoiding and looking for George, I step into the room with a small smile on my face.

"Luna! Thank you for coming," she smiles warmly at me while indicating for me to sit opposite her desk. My eyes are fixed on that smile, "how are you?"

"Uh - I'm not in trouble-"

Surprisingly, she chuckles, "No dear. You've been here for two months now and I just wanted to check in. See how everything is going or if there's anything I can help with."

A breath escapes me, "Oh! Everything is good. The classes are good and I'm not finding the homework too much to handle."

"I've spoken to a few of your teachers and they've got nothing but nice things to say about you and your work. That's impressive."

I offer her a small, genuine smile, "Thank you."

She nods, "And how are you settling into the neighbourhood? I bet it's very different for you."

My eyebrows raise at the question, "Um, good. It seems really nice."

Again, she nods at my vague answers, "Have you made any friends, Luna?"

The invasive question is the cherry on top of this disastrous week. Or two weeks, three weeks, whatever. The realisation that I have in fact not made a single friend slams into me. Not that I wanted to, originally, but it's a sobering thought. A laugh leaves my lips, one void of any emotion, before I simply stand and leave the room. While I'm closing the door, I thank her for checking in. Even in this state, I didn't want to be completely rude. Thankfully, she doesn't follow me or ring home when I leave early. Her actions, or lack of, reek of pity which would usually frustrate me but I cannot bring myself to care.

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A bit of a sad chapter! 

If you spot any errors, please let me know.