Everything Is Just Fine

Chapter 9

I don't know why Shelby and I let Amy drive to Plainsburg. She speeds--20 over the limit--and cuts through traffic like someone is chasing her, and I'm afraid I'm either going to get whiplash or die with her behind the wheel. But she had insisted that we take her Sentra because it had more space than my Beetle and Shelby's Fiat.

"At this rate, we'll cut our trip to Plainsburg in half," Shelby jokes, playing with the dial of the radio.

Amy is a firm believer in the idea that whoever sits in the passenger seat is in charge of the road trip music, which means the last hour has been filled with America's Top 40, and Shelby turning the dial every minute.

I'm laying in the back seat, my head resting on my backpack, and flipping through my battered copy of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest.

When I'm feeling particularly good about myself I like to pretend that I'm like Chief at the end of the book, breaking free and running across fields that I haven't seen in a very long time, but most of the time I feel like Murphy.

I pull out my headphones as Amy and Shelby agree on a station that is playing one of Benjamin's favorite songs. He had been a huge fan of Pop and EDM, no matter how much I tried to get him to listen to other genres. I scroll through my phone until I find The Cure, and crank up the volume to drown out what's playing on the car's speakers. I flip open One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest to a random page and begin reading. I've read it so many times, I have all my favorite passages highlighted, and those are the parts I read over and over again.

I think another reason I love this book so much is because they are like me--the patients. I think they are the most honest characters, wholly who they are, and that's all I can try to be--wholly who I am.

And all of this thinking about trying to be completely who I am and how I can be more honest is just a way for me to beat around the bush of the glaringly obvious thing I have in common with these men.

We all suffer from mental illnesses, and we all have done our share of time in an institution.

★ ★ ★ ★

Somewhere between farmland and more farmland, I had fallen asleep, but then again The Cure has always been a sort of lullaby for me. When I was younger my mom would play Boys Don't Cry during my nap times.

"Yo, Lancaster," Shelby says, shaking my leg. "We're here."

I pull my headphones off and sit up to look out the window at the city I had spent the first eighteen years of my life in.

I don't know why I'm expecting Plainsburg to look as if it had changed over the past few weeks, but it's still the same. Everything is still small and simple, and though Freemont is a small city as well, Plainsburg feels even smaller.

"If I see anyone from high school, I'm going to get so much shit for hanging out with someone who went to Lincoln," Amy jokes as we pass by C+W's Burgers, the best burger and shake joint on the east coast.

Benjamin, Alan, and I had spent a lot of time in the back booth of that place bullshitting and horsing around. C+W's was the place where Alan and I had met each other, and it was the place we made up after our first big fight in ninth grade. It was the first place we went after I got out of SunnySide, and it was also the last place we met up before things went so fucking awry.

I look away from the burger joint. My chest feels too tight to breathe.

"You okay?" Shelby asks, glancing at me in the mirror.

"Fine. Just a lot of memories."

I close my eyes, focusing on the sound of the engine, the tapping of Shelby's fingers on the dashboard, and Amy humming to the song playing softly on the radio.

Minutes later, we pull into the parking lot of Nana's condo, and it doesn't hit me until just then how much I actually missed her.

When we round the corner to the front of her building, Nana is jumping up and down, waving like a five-year-old with a huge smile on her face. She's made a sign with glitter that says: WELCOME HOME, BUG!!! It's like she hasn't seen me in years.

"That's your grandma?" Amy asks as she pulls into a spot. "I already love her."

We pile out of the car, and Nana's running across the crunchy browning grass to smother me in a hug before I can even grab my backpack. "My Jess-bug!" She's crying. Her face is streaked with blue mascara, and she pulls the neck of her purple sweater up to wipe her nose. "Oh, I'm so happy you're home!"

"Hi, Nana," I say in a more subdued greeting.

Nana used to tell me that I was too mellow, but I argue that she has enough energy to power the whole city.

Nana finally releases me to turn her attention to Shelby and Amy. "You must be Amy!" She squeals, pulling Amy into a hug that I'm sure cracks a few of her ribs. "I'm so happy my Jess-bug has made friends so quickly." She pulls back to hug Shelby, never pausing in her words. "He's always been a shy boy, only ever had Alan. Sweet boy, that Alan! He brought me seashells from California."

"Alan was here?" My heart plummets and it hurts knowing that Alan has no problem coming to see Nana, but he hasn't texted me once since the day he reminded me about the Movie in the Park.

"Of course!" Nana takes my backpack, leading the three of us into the building. "He was here last night. I'm sure he misses you."

I don't say it out loud, but I miss him so much that some days it's all I can think about.

Why does no one tell you that having a fall out with your best friend is actually more painful than a breakup?

★ ★ ★ ★

Nana forces us to eat her chicken and dumplings even though we had eaten before leaving Freemont. She regales with all the gossip in the small city, and it turns out that she plays poker every Friday night with Amy's grandfather.

It's after ten when Nana finally lets Amy and Shelby leave. They're staying at Amy's parents' for the weekend.

"See you tomorrow, Jess," Shelby says, her arms piled with containers of Nana's food.

Nana's sitting in her chair when I come back from walking Amy and Shelby to the car. She smiles sleepily at me. "I'm so happy you're making friends at college, Jess-bug. I don't want you to be lonely."

"I'm never lonely, Nana. You know I tend to prefer my own company over that of others."

"You get that from your father. He was a bit of a lone wolf too." She points to the couch, silently telling me to sit down. "Tell me about classes, and I want to know more about this roommate. All you said was that he was nice. I want more details."

I sigh, sit on the couch, and indulge her curiosity.

★ ★ ★ ★

It isn't until one in the morning that Nana stops asking me questions and releases me to go to bed.

The room I lived in for the last few months of high school and over the past summer is pretty much unchanged. The picture of my parents still hangs on the wall near the closet. My mom is smiling at the camera while Dad is smiling down at her like she's the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

And that's how I remember them--so in love that their worlds solely revolved around each other.

"I miss you," I say to the picture. "I miss you so much."

The rest of the walls are plastered with posters from movies and video games. My vinyl collection is bending the shelves where my PS4 and Switch are collecting dust. I remind myself to take my Switch so I can kick Toby's ass at Mario Kart.

I take a picture of the game, and send it to Toby with the message:

Ready 4 Rainbow rd?

I strip off my shirt, making a point to not look at my forearms. I go to my dresser, and pull out some Batman pajama pants I hadn't taken to Westbrook.

It's nearly two in the morning when I climb into the twin-sized bed. I don't expect Toby to text back, but right before I close my eyes, my phone beeps.

You're so fucking on!