I continued ripping my toast in pieces, the conversation at the table ensuing around me.
McKenna nudged me with her elbow, and I glanced over at her, my eyebrows raised.
"Are you going to enter?" she asked me.
"Enter what?"
She glanced down at my breakfast plate before glancing back up at me. "The art contest Lee, what we've been talking about all morning."
I shrugged. "Not interested."
She didn't say anything else, and I cracked open my orange juice, taking a few sips before I absentmindedly resumed ripping my toast into pieces.
They continued to converse around me, but I couldn't bring myself to pay attention, let alone join them.
"Are you going to continue to mutilate your toast, or are you going to actually eat it?" Kara asked me.
I glanced down at the untouched breakfast on my plate.
"I don't really see how that's any of your business," I stated, my eyes snapping up to meet hers.
Kara rolled her eyes, reaching over and plucking a blueberry off of Justin's tray. "No need to get pissy with me, it was just a question. I was just rallying in support to save the toast."
"Fuck off."
McKenna's hand rested on my thigh underneath the table, and she squeezed my knee, shooting me a questioning look.
A why the hell are you acting like such a dick look.
The answer is simple.
I don't fucking know.
I took another long sip of my orange juice, glancing towards of the cafeteria again.
Maybe I was planning my escape route or something.
"I can't deal with you and your bipolar ass this morning," Kara informed me, with a long sigh.
My eyes immediately snapped back over to hers, and I felt a tightness spread across my chest.
"Babe," Justin said, raising his eyebrows at her. "We talked about this."
"What?"
"Bipolar isn't an adjective, remember?"
Kara let out a frustrated sigh. "Shit." She drummed her fingers on the table before glancing back over me. "Lee, I can't deal with you and your hormonal ass this morning." She glanced back over at Justin, raising her eyebrows and waiting for his approval.
"We'll keep working on it."
And then I felt something inside of me snap.
It was probably a long time coming.
When I woke up this morning, I felt as though there was a string inside of me that had been strung too tight. And I've just been waiting for it to snap.
"Well you know what Kara?" I asked, my voice laced with venom.
Her eyes immediately snapped over to meet mine.
"Maybe that's because I. Am. Fucking. Bipolar."
And with that I shoved my tray away from me, storming away from the table and out of the cafeteria.
I could feel my heart racing in my chest, for reasons that I couldn't understand.
Why was I so fucking pissed off?
And then tears began to blur my vision, and I used the hem of my shirt to reach up and catch them before they fell.
I don't understand what's happening to me.
But that's nothing new really.
I felt a presence behind me, jogging to catch up to me.
"Give me your key," Warren demanded.
"Leave me the fuck alone."
"Key to your dorm Lee, now."
"Go away."
I was full-on crying now, and I didn't know why.
I ripped open the main door to the front building of the boys' dormitories, and luckily for me it was Dylan sitting behind the front desk.
"What's happened?" Dylan asked, coming out from behind the desk.
"Would everyone just leave me the fuck alone?" I demanded, as Warren pressed the elevator button.
I used my sleeve to wipe my face of tears as Dylan handed me a box of tissues.
I begrudgingly accepted, hiccupping as I wiped my face off.
Warren yanked me into the elevator as it came to our floor, and the doors closed behind us.
"Key," he repeated.
I looped it off from around my neck, handing it to him wordlessly.
I cried the entire way up to the third floor, and Warren practically dragged me to my room.
"You didn't even lock your door," Warren chastised, pushing open the door.
I stumbled inside, clutching my bedpost as sobs racked my body.
I don't even know why I'm sobbing.
I could faintly hear Warren talking, probably on the phone.
"Lee, can you at least tell me what's wrong?" Warren asked, his voice a bit desperate.
How can I tell him what's wrong when I don't know myself.
It wasn't long before my bedroom door opened again, and this time it was none other than Parker himself.
Warren and Parker had a short conversation, and Warren hesitantly left, shooting me one last look over his shoulder as he did.
"Did you take your meds this morning?" Parker asked me.
"Fuck you."
Parker raised his eyebrows at me.
I took a few calming breaths, trying to regain some sense of composure.
"The first thing out of your mouth is about my medication," I spat at him. "I'm fine, thanks for asking."
"You're right," Parker mumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets. "This was always mom's thing, you know? She was always better at this."
Lee's having an emotional breakdown, better hand him over to mom.
"Everything is always mom's thing," Parker continued to rant. "Fuck, I don't know what I'm supposed to do Lee. Or what I'm supposed to say. I'm probably fucking things up right now." He wiped his hand across his face. "Did something happen this morning?"
"I don't know," I whimpered, pressing my forehead to the bedpost.
"You don't know?"
I don't know what's happening to me.
Why can't he understand that?
I don't know why I'm bipolar. I don't know why I have mood swings that I can't control. And I don't know why I have emotional breakdowns that don't make rational sense.
"Well when I was having a shitty day, mom used to tell me to go back to sleep. And when I woke up things would be okay," Parker said, his eyes searching mine.
"I don't think it works that way," I said, as tears began to cascade down my face again. "Because when I wake up again I'm still going to be bipolar. And you're still going to be a shitty person. And nothing's going to be fixed."
"Well it's worth a shot."
And so I trudged up to my bed, pulling the covers up and willing myself to never wake up to this nightmare again.
~*~
Parker was doing homework on my futon when I finally willed myself to get out of bed.
He wordlessly handed me a bottle of water, which I graciously accepted, my throat aching and eyes burning.
I felt ridiculous and embarrassed at my outburst from this morning. I'm not sure what came over me, but I wanted to crawl into an abyss and pretend that none of it ever happened.
And I don't know how I was ever going to face my friends again.
I took a seat on the edge of my futon, pulling my knees up to my chin as I watched Parker work on what looked like Statistics homework.
"This weekend is Martin Luther King weekend or whatever," Parker commented.
"This upcoming Monday is his day, yeah," I agreed.
"You're going with Emmett to his tournament."
I raised an eyebrow at him. "I don't want to."
"I don't remember phrasing it as a question."
"Fuck you, I don't want to go."
He can't make me go and watch Emmett play soccer all weekend.
Parker finally looked up from his homework, closing his Statistics book with a sigh. "Lee, you're going."
"Why? I'm fine here." I raised my eyebrows at him. "Is it because of what happened this morning, because it's not my fault that I-"
"It's not because of that," Parker declined.
My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Then why are you making me go?"
"Because I'll be in Colorado for the weekend," Parker stated, simply.
"So what?"
"And I don't trust you to be here alone."
There it is.
"That's complete and utter bullshit."
"I told you back at Patricia's office," Parker reminded me, calmly. "Trust is earned. And you broke mine. Completely."
"So you're going to set me up with a babysitter this weekend?" I demanded, my voice raising a few notches. "I'm 17 years old Parker."
"And you're going to be 18 this year," Parker snapped, losing a bit of his collective exterior. "And I need to know that you'll be alright. Because I won't legally be able to be your guardian anymore, although you know that I'll still be there for you anyways because fuck the government. And I have to know that you're going to be okay Lee."
We were both silent for a few moments, the weight of Parker's words settling around us.
I was going to be 18-years old this year.
Me.
A borderline-suicidal, bipolar, ADHD-ridden, panic attack prone teenager.
When did that happen?
I swallowed back the lump in my throat as Parker ran his fingers through his messy hair.
"Okay," I muttered, quietly.
"Okay what?" Parker asked, a bit exasperatedly.
"Okay I'll go with Emmett this weekend," I said, a bit louder. "Okay I'll earn back your trust. Okay I'll prove to you that I'm going to be okay, one way or another."
He stared at me for a few moments, and then just slowly nodded.
I leaned with my back resting on my bedpost, glancing out towards my window.
"How're you feeling?" Parker asked me.
"Pretty shitty."
"How's that compared to this morning?"
"Less shitty."
He nodded, twirling his pencil in his hand. "Want to go and grab some lunch?"
I wasn't hungry.
I'm never hungry.
And that scares me, because it reminds me too much of rehab. I wasn't ever hungry then either.
But the difference is that now I eat anyways.
Then I just didn't eat. And I remember very clearly the dire effects, the threat of a feeding tube if I didn't get my shit together.
"I think something's wrong with my medication," I voiced aloud.
"Why?" Parker asked, his eyes immediately zeroing in on mine.
"Because I don't have an appetite anymore."
"You never have an appetite," Parker pointed out. "I thought you were eating more now though."
"I was nauseous before," I corrected. "Because of the Depression, that happens usually. But I don't think that I'm depressed anymore... Am I?"
"I don't think that it works like that," Parker stated, twirling his pencil in his hand again. "I don't think you go from being depressed to not. It's a process."
"Well the point is that I'm not nauseous anymore," I stated, redirecting our conversation. "I'm just not hungry. Ever."
I could see the alarming look in Parker's eyes, because that also reminded him of rehab, of our countless arguments over the lack of food that I was consuming.
Parker always used to tease me growing up, call me the walking, talking stick figure. Because I've always been tall and thin. But through rehab I was more like the walking, talking skeleton.
When I finally did start regularly eating again, they had to put me on the diet that they start Anorexics on in rehab. A liquid diet.
It was God awful.
When I started at Jefferson Lake, I'd only just started on full meals. And I still had to drink a protein shake with every meal.
The protein shakes ended when I hit my starting weight from rehab. Although it was still considered underweight, my BMI was still acceptable. And the protein shakes, which at first were delicious, then just tasted like vomit in a bottle, so I wasn't sad to see them go.
"I'll call your psychiatrist and see what he thinks," Parker said, with a nod. "Are you still eating though?"
I nodded.
Just not drinking the protein shakes. But he doesn't need to know that.
~*~
"Do you want Subway for lunch?" Emmett asked me.
I nodded, knowing that my answer didn't really matter.
Emmett always ate Subway before a game.
"Good, because I'm starving."
"You're always starving."
"Don't judge me."
We pulled off the highway at the next exit, and we pulled into a gas station that had a Subway attached to the side.
"You can pump your gas and get a sandwich on the side," I commented.
"I've seen a Cici's Pizza attached to a gas station before," Emmett informed me, as we headed inside.
"That's disgusting."
"I'm just saying, it could be worse."
Emmett ordered his usual, some chicken footlong with rubbery chicken that looked like it'd been processed in the back.
No thank you.
The guy looked to me expectantly.
"I'll take a 6-inch on flatbread," I recited. "Veggie sub."
You couldn't pay me to eat Subway's over-processed meat.
McDonald's on the other hand...
"Everything on it?" the guy behind the counter asked me.
I nodded, and he began loading up my sub.
"What kinds of chips do you want?" Emmett asked me, as he secured a bag of Baked Lays for himself.
I tossed him a bag of Doritos as he went to pay.
I grabbed my cup after my sub was ready, filling up on Sprite as we headed back out to Emily's car.
"I don't imagine she'd be okay with us eating in her car," I commented.
"What she doesn't know won't hurt her."
I cracked open my bag of Doritos, absent-mindedly eating them as Emmett began coasting down the highway again.
"McKenna couldn't come?" Emmett asked me.
I shook my head. "She's working on her piece for the Spring Art Competition."
"And you're not?"
I brushed off his question, popping another Dorito into my mouth.
"You used to enter those things all the time," Emmett continued.
"Yeah, as in past tense. As in I don't anymore," I said, a tightness to my voice.
Emmett didn't question me any further, which I was grateful for.
We pulled into the hotel that Emmett was staying in for the weekend as I finished my chips, and Emmett checked in at the front desk.
Third floor.
I was used to climbing three flights of stairs every day, but I'd hoped to get a break this weekend. No such luck apparently.
"My game isn't for another couple of hours," Emmett commented, as I fell back on the bed I claimed for myself. "So as soon as you finished eating, we can go out and do something."
I glanced down at my untouched sub. "Okay."
Emmett flipped on the TV, and the two of us watched an episode of the Big Bang Theory.
"You remind me a lot of Sheldon," Emmett commented.
"I don't think that's a compliment."
~*~
"Just chug it!" I encouraged.
"I have to play tomorrow," Emmett reminded me, before tipping his beer back.
"It's only one round of beer pong," I reminded him. "And we're not going to lose."
"He's a cocky little shit, isn't he?" Wyatt asked, with a laugh.
He was Parker's roommate and fraternity brother.
We were currently at a frat party over at Florida State, and with Parker being in Colorado, Emmett and I were playing a round of beer pong against a couple of Parker's frat brothers.
And killing it.
"You first," Emmett ordered, stacking his cup on top.
He'd only had to drink two, and he was already complaining.
I aimed for the back, left corner, making it of course.
As I'd always said, beer pong is all just a science.
"I hate this cocky little shit," Brett informed Wyatt, causing Wyatt to crack up.
"I want him on my team next time," Wyatt countered, picking up the drink.
"No way," Emmett disagreed, making his cup as well.
"Damn," Brett muttered, as we took another turn.
Emmett missed his cup.
"Does he ever miss?" Wyatt asked, dumping the beer from the second cup into the one he was still working on.
"Rarely," Emmett said, with a slight smirk.
We ended up winning, as I'd predicted.
"Why doesn't Parker bring you out more?" Brett asked, as he tipped back his beer. "I'd keep you on my team every fucking time."
Because he's an overprotective shit.
"Because the kid's underage," Wyatt reminded him. "And none of us are telling Parker that we let his underage little brother come and party with us."
"You think I'm telling him?" Brett questioned. "I like my face intact, thanks."
I chuckled at that, as did Emmett.
"So you're coming to play for us next year, right?" Brett asked Emmett.
Emmett just shrugged.
"Emmett, if you fuck us over for Stanford, I'll end you."
"Stanford?" I asked.
"Our boy here is in high demand," Brett informed me. "Number 2 team in the country wants him. As does Clemson and Syracuse."
"I haven't made any college decisions," Emmett declined. "I still have time."
The two guys cracked up.
"You should've committed long before now," Brett reminded him.
"I still have time," Emmett repeated, before picking up one of the beers and taking a swig.
Brett just shrugged. "Come here man, give us the edge we need. With you and Adams on the front, we should take the conference next year."
"Stop trying to recruit the man," Wyatt said, with a laugh. "He came here to party, not to listen to your sales pitch."
"Listen to my words Winston!" Brett called over his shoulder, as he left the beer pong table.
"Ignore him," Wyatt said, with a laugh. "He's just pissy because I guess the team sucked ass this year. They'll get over it."
And then he left too.
"Are you really going out of state?" I asked Emmett.
Emmett had been pretty much a staple in my life growing up. He'd always been Parker's best friend, but he'd pretty much adopted me as his annoying younger brother.
It was already strange enough living in separate cities. I was used to seeing him at my kitchen counter everyday, used to playing video games with him and arguing with Parker over which flavor of pizza we should order.
Emmett was the buffer between Parker and I. He was the balance between us. Parker and I were on opposite ends of the spectrum, and Emmett was our happy medium.
I couldn't imagine him moving out-of-state. To never get to see him, except maybe on holidays. I think I'd probably suffocate with that much Parker, with no one here to act as a martyr between us.
We'd probably kill each other.
"I don't want to talk about college right now," Emmett informed me, turning his back on the beer pong table. "How are you at flip cup?"
*****************************************************************************************************
So what did you guys think about Lee's mood swing? Sometimes I think that we forget he's bipolar. What about his outburst towards Kara? Was it deserved? And then a little bit of Lee-Emmett time. What did you think about Emmett's lack of commitment towards college?
The picture up there at the beginning of the chapter was submitted by Ghost_Author. What do you guys think?
So in case you didn't notice, I changed up the cover a little bit. This story talks about a few important factors regarding mental illness, and I decided to show my support to a few campaigns here on Wattpad. So be sure to check out some other stories within those campaigns as well!
I also want to take a moment to talk about one of my characters, Kara. She's received a lot of hate in the comment section for some of the comments she's made, such as using "bipolar" as an adjective. But newsflash guys, we all do this. I've caught myself doing it, but I'm much, much better about it now. It's just being misinformed is all. And maybe instead of spreading HATE in the comments, we can spread AWARENESS. Because that's generally what it is, people are just misinformed. Just thought I'd throw that out there. Let's all step down off our pedestals and take a look at ourselves before we start condemning others.
Teaser: Parker's POV! His trip to Colorado with Emily <3