Comfort Zone

I Guess I'll Just Have to Brave the Dangers of Teenage Normalcy

"Well apparently I have to have a few entertaining stories prepared for them so I better go make some memories," I roll my eyes sarcastically. I hadn't meant for her to take the number literally.

"Exactly," she grins triumphantly, "and you can start with this party."

"No," I reply firmly, starting to get angry.

"Henley, I'm not going to let you get away with wasting your life away in your bedroom," she screams, throwing her hands up in utter frustration.

"When are you going to realize that I don't consider your stupid, pointless, little parties, football games, and basic, normal, teenage stuff a good use of my time. I would rather stay here than be surrounded by all of that," I yell, flailing my arms in random directions trying anything to get my point through to her.

"All of that," she repeats questioningly. "What does that mean?"

"The people, the dancing, the music. I hate all of it," I cry out.

"I'm one of those people Henley," she hisses. "When are you going to realize that if everyone else wants to do something that you don't, they might not be the ones that are wrong. It just might be you."

I glare at her, unable to respond. She knew I didn't meant it like that. Didn't she?

I'm perfectly aware of the fact that I'm the abnormal one in this equation. I don't know what it is, I just can't bring myself to like the things that "normal" teenagers enjoy. I've technically only been to one actual party, the one with Rhett. I've gone to plenty of school functions in Jr. High, though, and from what I gather, they're not all that different.

Ever since my first School dance in seventh grade, when I hid in the bathroom and called my mom to come pick me up after thirty minutes, I had known I would never be one for partying.

She has to know that I would give anything to be able to go and to feel comfortable. Then again, I'm not sure I've ever told her that.

I can't believe she hasn't at least guessed that I'm not actually avoiding these parties because I hate them. I just hate how they make me feel. Small and insignificant.

In my room, by myself, I don't have to play an angle, I'm not part of anything, I'm the only one I have to impress.

I should probably explain this to her, but for some reason I don't want to.

"I'm not going Vi," I repeat instead, through clenched teeth.

She stares at me for a long time. I'm sure she's going to keep trying, or at least tell me she's disappointed, but she doesn't. She just releases a low, bitter chuckle, before spinning on her heels, and walking out the door.

I don't move. I sit staring at the door for what feels like hours before grabbing my pillow, yanking it towards my face, and screaming angrily into it.

Why did she just leave like that? I hate fighting. Holding grudges stresses me out to no end. I need things resolved. I don't like having unfinished business and loose ends floating around out there, especially not with my best friend.

I can feel the anxiety forming in the pit of the stomach and know I won't be able to sleep tonight until I fix things with Violet.