Lucid

Chapter Twelve

The day passes slowly. Kayla sits by me at lunch.
    "I'm really sorry if I overstepped I shouldn't-"
    "No, you're okay. Don't worry, I'm not upset with you."
    Relief washes over her face. "Wait, then what's wrong? You didn't show up at school for a few days and now you're... extra down."
    I stare at the school pizza while I ponder my next move: do I play it off as nothing and maybe get some peace, or do I rant to her and get a different kind of peace? I cringe at the foamy bubbles rising on the cheese.
    "Now you're making a weird face," she giggles, "I'm concerned you're going insane."
    Laughter seems to echo throughout the lunchroom. It takes me a few seconds to realize that the person laughing is actually me.
    "The pizza here never fails to disgust me. Anyways, I just have a lot going on right now, and a lot that I obviously haven't told you about. But I haven't really had anyone to talk to about it."
    I think back to mom's plead to get me to go to therapy. I told her it was therapy, or antidepressants, not both. Seeing my attacks and general mood, we evidently reached a compromise.
    "Of course. I'm always here to talk."
    "Do you wanna hang out after school today? We can watch a movie or something and maybe I'll feel like ranting. Strictly as friends, of course."
    She blushes. "Yeah, I know. Listen, I'm really-"
    "Sorry?" I finish for her. "Yeah I know. You've said it only about twelve times. But seriously, it's okay."
    She takes a bite of whatever is in her thermos and smiles. "Ok well, yes, I'd love to come over, escape my hell of a home for a little bit more." I open my mouth to speak but she cuts me off. "Yes, I'm fine, and no, I don't wanna talk about it. I just don't like chores and stuff."
    "Okay. You can just take the bus home with me if you'd like."
    "Sure."

    In my advanced journalism class I'm told to stand in front of the class to present.
    Present, what?
    "Okay, peeps, quiet now, Miles is going to share his writing."
    "What writing?" a classmate shouts, resulting in laughter. Dumb is funny now. But, then again, thank god he asked.
    "Last week's homework, the writing assignment. You were supposed to write a one page minimum story or narrative -- or really anything you want -- to get your creative juices flowing. Then, of course, you gotta read it for the class," the teacher explains.
    Fuck?
    I'm not sure what to feel or think or, most importantly, what to do.
    "Where's your paper?"
    "Um, I memorized my piece," I blurt. The teacher raises her eyes, impressed. She urges me to go ahead. I subconsciously fiddle with the hem of my shirt. "I met Alyssa a very long time ago," I begin.
    Instantly the emotion in my voice shines through and the teacher is taken aback, as if she's been hit by a truck. Her eyes sparkle. "Go on, Miles."
    And so I do.
                                         *****
    I throw down my backpack onto the floor and dive onto my couch. I let out a loud sigh and kick off my shoes.
    "Sorry, I've been wanting to do that all day."
    Kayla sets her back down and sits on one of our loveseats. "It's okay. Never seen you so relaxed before."
    I gently rest my eyes for a moment, absorbing the thoughts and images from the day. When I open my eyes Kayla is gone. I hear her feet clank on the floor near the kitchen. She comes back with a banana in her hand.
    "Oh, do you mind?" she jokes.
    She eats it in a few bites and then goes to throw the peel away. She comes back with my phone in her hand.
    "Someone's calling you," she says.
    I take my phone from her hand and slide to answer. "Hello?"
    "Miles, I'm coming over to pick you up, we're going to see Alyssa's dad," her familiar voice says. I don't speak. "They know something and need to talk to us about it. I figured you should come with. For support."
    "Alyssa's dad needs my support?" I say.
    "No," Mom says into the phone, "I do. Believe it or not all this is hard on me too. I don't know what they're going to say but I'm his contact for if he weren't capable of making health decisions himself."
    "Of course I'd come with you." I look over at Kayla who's brows are furrowed in confusion. "But Kayla is here right now."
    "Bring her along we can get dinner on the way home. I'm swinging by real soon, I'll be there in a minute."
    I shove my phone into my back pocket and look at Kayla.
    "What's up?"
    "Welp, we're going to the psych ward of Toronto General."