Messed Up Vita

Chapter Nine

We sit at the dinner table, all three of us. My dad came home an hour after Linda and I had our. . .second squabble, and knew still nothing about it. He only smiled at us and asked why we were so quiet. Neither of us responded.

   "How was your day?" he asks no one in particular. I keep my eyes down on my plate, shoveling food into my mouth. "Hello? Anybody gunna answer me tonight?"

   "Sorry," Linda says. "We had a good day, didn't we, Ellie?" I notice a note of pointed jab in her voice, but I ignore it.

   I couldn't find anything to say, I blurt out, "The fall dance is next Friday."

   Dad raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Really? Today's Tuesday, so not that far off. You're finally going this year?"

  "Of course not," I say obviously. "I never go, and I never will. I think they're stupid." I see Linda sort of flinch, and I feel another twinge of guilt. But I don't take back what I say. I put some more mashed potatoes into my mouth.

   Dad, still oblivious to the whole situation. "Well, I think you should. It would be nice to see you actually dressed up for once."

   I shake my head. "Nah. I'm finished." Without another word, I pick up my plate and put it in the dishwasher. Linda nor my dad says anything as I exit the kitchen. I take out my phone as soon as I'm in my room. I quickly text the number I knew by heart.

   A minute passes, and I start to think they're not going to respond. Then a dinging sound pops up, and I open my phone happily. 

   "Hullooo"

   It was Jayden, my best friend. Long distance best friend, anyways.

   I text him back, "I really need to talk to somebody. You busy?"

   I wait, before he says back, "Actually, yes. I'm really sorry El, but I have to go. My girfriend's making me meet her parents. I don't want to go, but she's forcing me."

   "Please stay :("

   "We'll talk later, k?" I could almost imagine him brushing me off the phone, like a spec of dust. "See yah."

   I click off my phone in disappointment. I hadn't talked to him in a week, and he only responds when he's busy. Awesome job, Jayden. But this behavior isn't unusual in him. Loyal and trustworthy, but forgetful and busy at the same time. 

  I get up from sitting down on my bed, sick of doing nothing all day. I grab my guitar, still in it's case, and walk out of my room. I trudge down the hall, where Linda and Dad are still eating, chatting quietly. They both look up at me, and my dad has to turn around on his chair to see me.

   "Where are you going?" he demands.

   "For a walk," I respond, grabbing my jacket off the clear glass table. I slip it around my shoulders and zip it up the front. 

   "With your guitar?" he asks cynically. 

   I nod my head. "Going to the park. Be back in like, a half hour. If longer, I'll call." I quickly exit out the door, slamming it softly behind me. I slip the strap of the guitar across my chest, securing it to my back for the walk down the four blocks, the different direction of the school. I wonder why my dad was surprised at me going off with my guitar. I always did it; always in the park, underneath a huge oak tree. I always practiced there, where nobody will listen in or even care I'm there.

   Not like people care anywhere else, anyways.

   I walk down the sidewalk, knowing the park's only a couple blocks down. My feet take long strides as I badly want to sit underneath the falling leaves, free-handedly practicing my guitar in peace.