Grey Street // H.S.

Chapter 7: Trespassing

My dad once told me, "Elle, someday you're going to wake up and you're going to be old. Your whole life will be underneath you and the only things you'll remember were the times you didn't take a chance and just leap into it. Don't let this be one of them." I was six and waiting in line for Splash Mountain at Disneyland.

My dad is very good at coming up with inspirational lines that are extremely touching and thought provoking, then using them at the most insignificant times, like waiting in line for a ride at an amusement park.

Another time when this rang true was when I was ten and frustrated with my chalk art in the driveway. It looked more like a monster threw up on the asphalt than the mountain scene I was attempting to draw. So he came up to me, holding my shoulders and spoke softly, "Elle, stop trying to create in your mind what it's supposed to look like and just let your hands do the work, you'll be amazed at the results."

Since that day the words he whispered are constantly replaying in my head whenever I paint, influencing a lot of my best work. 

My dad has always been more supportive of my painting than my mom has. I honestly think he's scared of her and because of that he goes along with the doctor or you're a failure mentality that my mom can't seem to shake. I'd like to think he see's some potential in me that goes beyond that.

I think if my dad was walking down the street with Harry and me right now, which I'm glad he isn't, I'm certain he would have another cheesy one liner. It would go something like, "Elle, trust your gut. If you're around someone who brings out a side of you that you didn't know was there maybe they're good for you."

Maybe Harry will be good for me, maybe having a friend like him won't be so bad after all. I have never left a party early or missed an opportunity to get drunk. Yet, here I am walking down the street, not at a party, not drunk and I'm with Harry.

"What are your parents like?" he asks suddenly, interrupting our silence.

The sun has set by now and except for the street lights and the occasional lit window from a house it's completely dark. I turn to look at him but it's difficult to make anything out, his face covered with a shadow.

"Absent," I say crossing my arms in front of me, facing forward again. It's a little chillier tonight than it has been and there is a strong breeze, leaving goose bumps on my skin. "My mom is almost always at the hospital working. When she is home she acts like everything she does is perfect and she should win a prize for being the best mom in the world. Honestly, that makes it worse to me. She never really listens to what I have to say and what I like. I'm pretty sure she thinks Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is still my favorite book like it was when I was six. I honestly don't think I've had a real conversation with her in the last five months. It normally turns into an argument."

I look up at Harry and he's just staring back at me, nodding his head. He doesn't say anything but the look in his eyes urges me to go on.

"My dad and I get along a little better. He's home a lot more often and as long as my mom isn't around I can have a real conversation with him. He made it to two of my track meets last year compared to the zero my mom attended. He likes to read old medical journals and biology magazines while listening to dusty, old albums on the record player in his office."

It's always seemed strange to me because for the most part I feel like my parents would have been happier if they never had kids.

"They both just work a lot. In a way it's admirable because they obviously found the thing in life that they love and they're happy with it. I guess it just kind of sucks that they had to drag Ethan and me into it too. I think deep down they really love us, they're just too wrapped up in their own things to figure out how to show it."