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Speechless(35)

By:Hannah Harrington


                There are only two and a half years left of high school. I can                     make it alone. Once I graduate, I’ll never have to see any of these losers ever                     again. I will find a way to move to a new, big city where no one knows who I am                     or what I’ve done, leave all this behind me, and become the fashion designer                     I’ve always dreamed of being. I’ll be able to block Kristen and Noah and this                     entire mess from memory.

                Until then, I will just show up and shut up and grit my teeth                     and get through this. Whatever it takes.

                * * *

                “She needs to see a doctor,” my mother says at                     dinner.

                Of course that’s what she says. Therapy is my mother’s solution                     to everything. I’m sure she thinks there’d be peace in the Middle East if every                     country were forced to sit down on a stiff leather couch with a box of Kleenex                     and talk about their feeeeelings.

                Actually…has anyone tried that yet?

                Ever since my mother got home from work, she’s been hounding                     me. Ms. Davidson made good on her threat and apparently spoke to her about my                     insubordination issues. She also recommended counseling. I’m not crazy; I’m                     perceptive. What comes out of my mouth is the root of my problems, so the                     solution is for nothing to come out. Ms. Davidson said I couldn’t shut out the                     world, but my question is, why can’t I do just that? It’s what the world wants.                     It’s the only way to keep myself out of trouble.

                Mom probably wouldn’t be on my back so much if I’d just owned                     up and confessed my true motivations behind the vow, but instead I’m passing it                     off to my parents as an experiment. It’s just the easier explanation, and I know                     if I was honest, she’d take it as some personal parental failure even though it                     has nothing to do with her. I can tell she doesn’t believe me, though, by the                     way she’s staring like I’ll crack under the pressure of her intent gaze if she                     just waits long enough.

                I sigh loud enough to get my father’s attention and roll my                     eyes, just to garner some jeez, this isn’t a big deal, must                         be Mom’s time of the month again, huh? solidarity. It works like a                     charm. He cracks a small smile at me.