Fragments of Abigail

The Return

Tuesday was the last day I wanted it to be. Every bad thing that's ever happened to me has happened on a Tuesday. For instance, I was born on one. Then, in third grade, I called my teacher "mom" in front of my whole class. I don't know why; she was nothing like my mom. Mrs. Glady had the whole "warm, kind, nurturing" thing going on that my mom had never quite perfected. Maybe it was my own secret desire that she was my mother. I don't know. I don't want to read too much into it though, because then I'll become my therapist, and I think I just got into the safe zone, meaning I actually hate my therapist more than I hate my life.
Any way you look at them, Tuesday's have always sucked majorly for me. This Tuesday is going to earn the special privilege of sucking the most though, because this Tuesday I get to go back to school. This Tuesday, after passing out in front of AP Bio four Tuesday's ago, I return to the place that most refer to as hell, sans any affection.

**

"Abby, darling, we've missed you!" I hold back my sarcastic chuckle because, well, I'm doing my best not to turn into my inner bitch.
"Thanks Mrs. Turner. So glad to be back." Whoops, I might have let a little slip through. Hey, I'm a work in progress. "Is Ms. Johnson available?"
"I'm sure she can make some time for you." She smiled warmly at me and pointed me towards my guidance counselor's office. I returned the smile and knocked before entering Ms. Johnson's office.
"Abigail! Your first day of classes, how are you feeling?" Tired of your enthusiasm already, thank you very much. She listens to kids like me complain all day and somehow still wakes up every morning ready for work though, so I guess she's coping in her own way.
"Ready to get this over with, to be honest. Rip the band-aid off, right?"
She made a small clucking noise and frowned. "It won't be that bad, I promise. Plus, you've got everyone's support behind you now." Dangerous territory, Ms. Johnson. We don't make promises we can't keep. It is a Tuesday after all.

**

Making my way towards my locker I swallowed back a grin when I saw my best friend leaning against it.
"Aww, Ava, you remembered." I dropped my bag so I could make an attempt to remember how these lockers worked. And then try to do it with my left hand.
"Oh, shut up. Of course I did. Now back off we all know you're basically a cripple." She nudged me out of the way and started in on my locker.
"I'm not a cripple. Only my right arm is screwed up, and I am fully capable of doing things like opening a locker." I glared down at the damn cast encasing my right arm. Of course I had to injure my right one; that's what the universe does to me when it finds out I'm a righty. Maybe if I had stuck with my trend in fourth grade of trying to be ambidextrous this wouldn't be too bad, but I didn't quite have the stamina to push through relearning the alphabet.
"Well, I doubt the rest of the day will be so kind to you, so just let me do this for you, okay, A?" I grumbled something my inner bitch would've been very proud of but let her open my locker anyway. I guess help is nice once in a while. Plus, she was right; the day was surely not going uphill from here.
"How's Evan?" I knew that keeping the topic on her longtime boyfriend was sure to keep pressure off me.
"I know what you're doing, A, but I'll allow it this once. Next weekend we're going to his parents' beach house on the Cape, and we wanted you to come too." I hold back a smirk. They probably need me there, because neither of their parents would let them go alone otherwise.
"I'd enjoy that, but I really can't do much with this bum arm. Also, do you really want me third wheeling? And do I really want to be third wheeling?" I groan as I shove books into my bag for my classes. My daily work-out that I definitely have not missed at all.
"Well, Evan already invited Nate too. It'll be fun!" Ah, yes, Nate. Not a bad guy, just a little talkative for my taste. Then again, Ava talks a lot and I put up with her.
"Well, I think the doctor gave me instructions to 'live a little,' so maybe I ought to. No promises on what I'll be able to do though." I point my chin at my arm. "This little fucker loves to mess up everything."
"Oh, you're gonna enjoy yourself. You just have to press hold on your pity party for a bit. Plus, this is just what you need--a little sun and relaxation. Don't forget your bikini! The beach is calling your name!" She cupped her hands around her mouth and pretended to shout my name. I let my mouth curl up a moment and shook my head at her antics.
"Don't expect much. These lovely bruises won't be fully gone in time for next weekend."
"Aw, who cares. Your mom's not here to rant about your image, and it'll just be me, Evan, and Nate you're showing off to. Just bring your bikini and a towel and maybe a good attitude, and this trip will be our first big "hurrah!" as seniors."
"Hurrah," I mumbled as I zipped up my bag and half-heartedly threw it over my left shoulder. "Now, let's get to Calc."

**