Hello August, Please Be Good To Me

Chapter 5: Hide and No Seek

"Lyric, I know I will regret this, but what are you doing?" Danté asks, as he peers over my bed to find me huddled in the tight corner. I had my last box of Girl Scout cookies, safely hidden in the back of the freezer until now, my Tangled DVD, stale popcorn, a body pillow I'd snatched from Danté's room, and the lights turned off with no light coming from the windows. "Hiding from the world. What about you?" It's obvious that my brother doesn't want to entertain the situation, but he presses on anyway. "Wondering why my sister is hunched over in the dark under the bed cradling a box of cookies. And is that popcorn burnt?" I ignore him and turn my attention back to my movie. As he walks away, I hear Danté mutter, "Yeah, she'll fit right in with the college crazies." I fling a stuff bear at his shoulder and instead hit my dresser just as he tramps out of sight. I hear something fall, and panic for a moment before reminding myself I should be hiding. When I do peek however, I see it's just my graduation cards and settle back into my movie. How dare Danté bring up the C word in my private sphere?? (Now I'm convinced people pity me). Instead of turning up the volume louder, I accidentally turn it lower but leave it there.

Later this month, I'll go to my orientation, and the fact that Universal Studios is right there is the only way I have to entice myself away from staying my butt on this floor when it's time to go down there. I keep all these thoughts to myself so I don't have to explain myself. It's easier to process your internal readings when you don't have others looking over your shoulder expecting you to defend or drop your point. I have more freedom living in my head than I do in outward expression. People may see me as the genius, far from timid, creative girl with a unique name, but I'm not sure I want to be that girl anymore. Was I ever that girl truly? And if I never was or am no longer, what kind of girl would I be now? I don't have many choices, that's certain. I talk just enough to make sure people like my dad or Mariana and Cat don't worry about me unnecessarily, but I feel quite alone. While it was a satisfying solitude for a long while, I now find it rather lonely.

I still go with my aunt and uncle to church Sundays, long after my mom died and my dad stopped forcing Danté and I to go, hoping to chase away my self-created isolation. I love the AME church songs, the ushers I've known since I was five, and even praying in the pews, but I haven't felt that special "feeling" the elders always dote on, and though I've been taught God won't leave me nor forsake me, I think he left me a long time ago.

I don't do anything ungodly. Mostly. Well sometimes. Okay, I'm no saint. But I do feel guilt for my bad actions and try to be the best person I can. My aunt tells me that works mean nothing if you don't have faith. When I asked her what the heck she meant, she said that God doesn't care that you're a textbook Christian, your heart is the true aspect of what God sees and wants full reign over. Then doing right comes naturally 'cause you want to do it for God, not because you feel the need to. I'm still not sure I understood what she meant, but I nodded any way and leaned on my Uncle Dennis' shoulder. Jesus and the Holy Spirit made an appearance in the conversation but by that time I had drifted off for a few minutes.

I hear a truck rumble in the distance and the front door unlocks, opens, and then closes. My dad's at work and it's just me and Danté at home until we all go out to eat today. "Just because. You can even invite Iris if you want," my dad told Danté when he'd asked why. "And Lyric gets to choose the place, since she's our grad!" So I choose Macaroni Grill and plastered a smile on my face as my dad whistled out to his car. Going out for fun and good times started as a great idea until you realized all you really wanted to do was stay at home. Hence my temporary confinement

"Lyric! You got a package!" Danté calls as the door slams shut. "Don't slam the door!" I yell back from my corner, missing my favorite scene where Rapunzel and Flynn start dancing with the villagers. "Here," I hear before a loud thud on my bed, and the closing of my room door again. I pause the movie, and peer curiously onto the bed. A box about sides the length of my arm sits on the covers and I rummage for a pair of scissors to tear open the box. I don't know what it is, and I didn't order anything, so I shake the box before cutting the tape. My jaw sets when I pull out the plastic wrapped UCF hoodie and T-shirt my dad must have got for me. Knowing that he'll eventually ask about them, I stuff the clothes back in the box and place it on the top shelf of my closet. I'd never had a shirt in middle school or for my high school while I was there, except for the senior shirt that came with the senior fees, and I was completely fine with keeping the tradition. Not anymore.

I climb back over the bed and onto the body pillow, tempted to restart my movie. Instead I close the laptop and hug my arms underneath my chin. There's that lonely feeling creeping into my bones again, and I can't keep it at bay this time. I close my eyes and try to take a nap, and pray for the weekend to come.