It's one of those nights where I can't stay asleep. I can't focus on one thing, and yet my mind keeps reeling on specifics. Moving to Orlando, Justin, my not fitting in when August rolls around and I'm in my first class...the guy from the tech commons...I flop onto my stomach for the hundredth time. When I can't deal with my mind any more, I get up and turn on my room light, tripping over my suitcase that I still haven't unpacked from two days before. Since where I land is close enough to my sketch book, I reach over under my bed and stretch my fingers out to scrap it towards me. Then I realize that my pens and pencils are on the other side of the bed, and lean my hands into my face.
Instead of drawing anything, or adding things to previous sketches, I just flip through the pages. Whatever comfort or calm state of mind I was hoping to receive doesn't come, and I feel like I want to crawl out my skin. Unfortunately this is nothing new, but I thought I was over it. The "lonely spell" as I nicknamed it hasn't come for a while and I don't like what's in its place.
I don't even remember falling asleep, but when I open my eyes I still feel tired, and my neck hurts from sleeping in an awkward position for too long. I find the strength to go up to my desk and turn on my laptop. I don't know why I didn't think of watching a movie. As I wait for my desktop to come up, I scroll though my phone and play a game to pass the time. Another mind number I completely missed. My dad just subscribed to Hulu Plus and I start browsing all the movies when the cartoon Chelsea pops up in my recommended. I click on it and settle back feeling a sense of happiness. I was just starting eighth grade when the show first came on, and its catchy theme song had no problems roping me in. I see that the all of the fifth season is uploaded and I start where I think I left off last. Once junior year picked up, I had a hard time keeping track of anything, let alone new Chelsea episodes. Eventually, after laughing an eight pack through a slew of episodes, I start to realize that the characters are older, and Chelsea and her long time crush Wes are dating. How much did I miss??
I don't know I'm watching the series finale until I,
1. Scroll through the commenters and their crying emojis
2. Hit the Wikipedia page for Chelsea
3. Read the tweets of the creator, Jeffery Coast, and his retweets from the last episode premier...
What is life? I hug my pillow tight as the characters accept their diplomas and shake hands, just like I did a month ago, and wipe the tears from my eyes as Lea, another one of the main characters gives a speech. The credits zoom up, and I just sit there, swimming in my feelings. It occurs to me how old I feel in that moment, and then how small I am compared to the many moments there are. Label it humbling but I just feel crushed. I need a glass of water. I burst out of my room door the same time Danté enters from his room. I land into the side of his back, and due to his height he doesn't move while I experience a boomerang effect. "I'm sorry," I mumble expecting him to blow up, like brothers seem to do concerning sibling accidents, but instead I see a difference. He's not the same person my dad and I left when we went to Orlando; his whole aura seems to have shifted and I scurry away before his good vibes turn into concerned ones for me.
I nurse my water, one because it's ice cold, and two, because I like where I'm standing and don't want to leave. When I turned eighteen, I hadn't felt any different than seventeen or sixteen or even fifteen. People knew my age while I had to think for a second. I felt the best when I was surrounding by my big group of friends, even if I didn't do half the things they did. Even when they thought they were too good to talk to the other people in our class. Even when I witnessed it but didn't understand it. Now I'm no longer in high school, my friend count went down to zero as soon as I reached that stage...and I really don't know where I was going with this thought. Danté is looking at my strangely, and I narrow my eyes, confused.
"Huh?"
"I said I'm going out if Dad asks..."
"Oh. Okay. Have fun." I think I sound less whatever I feel. I hope. It works because my brother is gone in an instant and it's just me. The last thing I need to do is mope; I won't get out of my hole for a while and because it's summer there is no school excuse to hide behind. My water is gone soon, but I still don't move, content to stay there until there's reason not to. So much for TV...thank you Jeffery Coast for running my life. I burst out laughing realizing how ridiculous I sound in my head then switch to tears when I then realize it's not funny at all. I don't know when my dad is getting home from grocery shopping and hitting the hardwood stores, but I don't need to be mopping up tears when he comes through the door. I'll make a cake. I start opening and closing cabinets in search for the box mixes. I don't find any cake mix, but I see one for brownies and pull it out anyway. I hear my phone ring in my room, but I don't answer it. If it's Justin, I don't want to talk to him right now. I take out the eggs, oil, and baking ban, then turn around and reach for a bowl and the big fork I've claimed for baking only.
I add, mix, and check the box directions,waiting for the oven to preheat. It beeps just as I'm lining the pan with parchment paper. I pour the goopy black-brown mix into the pan and slip it into the oven. My phone rings again. I only get it to set the timer, not bothering to look at who called me and how many times. When the brownies are done,instead of trying to eat a scorching hot one per usual, I leave the brownies uncut on the stove, grab my phone and wallet, and walk out the door.