Dark Chocolate Cherry

TACITURNITY

I finally make it back home, but don't bother saying anything to my father since I'm a walking wad of rage. He's sitting on the couch watching one of his stupid action movies on TV, the ones Mom never wanted to watch with him because she didn't like thoughtless killing. I don't mind violent movies, especially when I'm really mad. Watching a murder is satisfying when you're angry. I storm upstairs and through the hallway and throw my backpack on the floor with such force I'm surprised I don't break a hole in the floor, and then I sit down against the edge of my bed with my knees tucked up to my chest.

I don't worry too much about homework. I do okay on tests without it, and grades have never really been a concern of mine. The only homework I might feel like doing tonight is Composition, but I finished my essay already. I'm so angry I feel like screaming so I pull my backpack towards me and pull my phone out of the front pocket. Surprisingly, it's not damaged. I put on Sleeping with Sirens and turn the volume up to full blast. Kellen Quinn's voice is like the inner voice of my soul: a series of depressing, high-pitched shrieks.

I feel like watching a movie, so I go to Netflix on my phone and start scrolling through my suggestions. There's one in my 'because you watched Edward Scissorhands' that looks interesting called Heathers, so I turn off my music and start watching it. It seems like an eighties girl movie at first, and then Christian Slater comes in and it gets better, because he offs Winona Ryder's popular battle-axe best friend and turns the movie into a dark comedy. I like it, but my movie-watching is interrupted by my father.

"What do you want to do for dinner?" he asks.

I pause the movie. "I don't know."

He gestures to my phone. "What're you watching?"

"Um... Heathers. It's an eighties movie."

"Oh." He pauses. "Is it good?"

"I guess. I don't know. It's kind of a cheesy teen movie. I found it in my suggestions."

My father nods. "I think I'm just going to order pizza. How does that sound?"

"Uh... fine."

"Alright." He turns to leave, and then he turns back around. "How did school go today?"

"I don't know."

"Have you made any new friends?"

"I've only been here two days."

"I know, but... is there anyone you would ever want to invite over?"

"No, not really. I don't really know anybody yet."

"What about that, uh, Nolan? He seems nice."

I look down at my phone. "I don't think—"

"I understand." He taps his knuckles against the door. "I'm watching Die Hard. Do you want to—?"

"I'm already watching something."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I guess I'll just—you like olives and green peppers, right?"

"Yeah."

"I'll get two pizzas then. From, what, Polito's?"

"Yeah, sure, whatever."

"Alright. I'll just, um, let you get back to your movie, then..."

"Okay."

He smiles faintly and walks out of the room. I watch him leave and then close the door. I un-pause the movie. Winona Ryder just feigned suicide so Christian Slater wouldn't kill her. I was almost tricked for a second.

After the movie's over, I put on the loudest Bring Me the Horizon song I have on my phone and blare it full blast. My mind begins to wander, and I end up remembering something I'd long forgotten.