Saving Laurel

18. Routine

Wes Thompson

I have one class with Sawyer.

And most days I can put enough distant between the two of us that he can't do anything. I'm not always that lucky.

Like today.

His arm lands heavy across my shoulder as he pulls me roughly to his side. His goons around him, they're not all bad, Peter Hannigan's younger brother is there, Darren. Darren never tries to make me tic but he also doesn't stop Sawyer, not that I blame him. I don't even try to stop Sawyer.

"How's it going Wes." Sawyer asks, smiling at me like we're friends.

"Fine." I mutter.

"So I was thinking bud..." I try to shrug him off but I just end up tic-ing instead and I lose focus of his voice because I'm already starting to freak out he's going to push me right now in the hallway.

Every time Sawyer talks to me there's the hidden agenda of making me tic. Or well, not so hidden agenda. For some reason it's hilarious to him. I wish I could find the humor in it. Instead I just end up with a headache and embarrassed.

"...you say?" He gives me a good jerk, bringing my attention back into focus.

"I.." I'm cut off when I whistle, my head jerking to the left thankfully away from Sawyer. "I'm good."

Whatever he said, I doubt I want a part of it.

"I saw Laurel sitting with you." He says. "Put in a good word for me will ya?"

I almost laugh but it's cut off when I shout "fuck off" into the air. Instantly I apologize.

Sawyer laughs, his fingers gripping my shoulder tightly as I make eye contact with Darren. He gives me a small sympathetic smile and I wonder if he's thinking the same thing I am. That I wish his brother Peter hadn't graduated last year. He had my back when it came to Sawyer or anyone really.

But I guess I couldn't be protected by Peter forever. Besides it seems like life has really turned around for him. And that's awesome.

"I don't really talk to her." I tic again but it does nothing to calm me and I immediately want to do it again.

I don't give myself the reprieve though, desperately trying to keep my tics to a minimum around Sawyer.

"Aw come on. I've seen you two and Cora says all she does is stare at you in music." He grins, his front tooth is crooked making it look razor sharp and taking away from his overall perfect appearance.

Thank god.

Otherwise Sawyer would literally be that corn fed, perfectly good looking country boy that seems to exist in every high school. Or at least that's what movies and books make you think.

"Come on Wes, we're friends." No. We aren't. "Help a brother out."

I'm also not his brother.

But I mumble a "maybe" and slip from underneath his arm when I see Brett and Ellie nearby. And lucky enough for me Sawyer let's me go without sending me into a tic fit.

It must be my birthday or something.

"Why were you talking to Sawyer?" Ellie barks at me when I'm still very far away.

I don't answer her until I reach them, watching Brett push his glasses up his nose with his finger.

"It was not intentional." I whistle, tossing out a cuss word after. "He caught me after class."

Ellie's hair is tossed up into a bun, hot pink tips shooting out of it like spikes. She checks her bag once, her black painted nails about to close her locker when she stops and double checks her bag. It's something she always does. Double checking that her wallet is still there.

It drives me nuts, making a whole list of my own compulsions to appear in my mind. My OCD wanting to check them all off just to be sure. To be safe. So that the world will stay on its axis.

I get this impending feeling of doom if I don't do what my OCD puts in my head and it's all centered around my mom. If I don't turn the dials a certain way in the car, or if I get home late, if the shoes aren't lined up the right way, if I don't do the same series of events every morning or a whole list of other ridiculous things, my mom will most certainly die. And then I'll be alone. So of course I do them. Even though I've been through enough therapy that the tiny part of my brain that's still sort of rational and normal knows that's not the case.

Ellie slams her locker hard, the noise snapping my attention back and she grins at me. I roll my eyes just as she turns to Brett and says "guess who has a date with Laurel after school?"

"It's not a date." I mutter, cycling through my usual tics and then whistling shortly after.

But Ellie just ignores me, continuing on like I haven't spoke.

"This kid right here." She links her arm through mine, dragging me down the hallway to our last class.

"Oh yeah." Brett clears his throat and we make eye contact, I shrug.

"She asked for help with our music theory stuff." It's not a big deal really. Everyone at some point has asked me for help.

Like Cora.

Who I'm guessing is the one that told Laurel I was a "genius" at it. I helped her out last year for a little bit.

"Is she meeting you at your place?" Brett asks.

I'm trying not to think about it, mostly because it'll break my routine. Like do I have the fifteen minutes that I usually do with Brett to go to the music room? Or will she be waiting for me?Does she want me to ride with her? Or will she follow Brett? And based on all these things, hows that going to effect everything else? Like if I show up fifteen minutes early to home will I have missed some crucial step in my day which will alter someone else's course and what if their course goes so awry that something bad happens and maybe they end up in the hospital and what if they had a kid and that kid is in the hospital and my mom ends up having to stay late because she's a bleeding heart and she wouldn't want to leave a hurt, scared kid. So when she finally leaves it's later than normal which means there's more cars on the road because of rush hour and what if she gets in a car accident and dies and then I have no one that really gets me.

And all of it could have been avoided if I just stuck to my schedule. I tic hard, all the muscles straining in my neck as I violently jerk and then shout into the air.

"Hey." Ellie's hand finds mine and squeezes as Brett says "let's just stick to the norm for now."

But I feel off and the thought that something bad is going to happen is over running my mind. My tics start gnawing at me and even though I can feel Ellie's hand in mind it doesn't keep the urges at bay. I go through the whole gambit except for the one that I really want to do. That one's a hard no in public if I can help it.

"I'll meet you in the parking lot at our normal time." Brett tells me, stressing the word normal like he hopes it'll register in my brain and calm down my OCD.

I force out a "yeah, okay" and let Ellie drag me to class.

Somewhere in my crazy head I know not following my routine won't cause my mom to die, probably. I mean it shouldn't, it most likely won't. But it could. So I might as well just play it safe.

"So how long do you think it's going to take for Savannah to give up on Brett?" Ellie asks me.

It takes me longer than normal to respond because I can't focus. Ellie jabs me in the ribs and I grunt.

"Why do you always (whistle, shoulder, neck, inhale, nose, no relief) do that?" I ask.

She grins up at me, "so you can't ignore me duh."

I laugh, like ignoring Ellie is even possible. She'd never have it.

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Kick me in the ass would ya? I've been seriously slacking on writing the past couple days.