The thought of facing Drei still
terrified me. He had tried to prepare and help me, but I was too stubborn to
listen. Ever since the bounty hunter and the less than comforting chat with my
mother, I didn’t want to admit he was right. It hurt my pride enough to realize
my own ignorance; I wanted to hold off hurting it any more.
School finished in a blur; class
elections, junior prom, graduation and finals slid together into a solitary
block of random images that made no sense to me. I missed my games but was
timorous at being caught or attracting unwanted attention. For me, there was no
escape from the mundane everyday life I faced, the life I had once invested so
much in.
Even summer was just a sequence of
parties, appearances, and shopping trips to New York, California, and Paris. My
friends were going through senior madness: a “disease” our school had dubbed
the craziness for jumping the bones of anything alive the summer before senior
year. Their exploits were recounted in vivid detail over overpriced coffee. If
questioned myself, I played a similar tune of countless faces passing through
my door, but never offered tales of specific encounters without prompting. After
all, there were none in reality to spare. It wasn’t me and I wasn’t ready—not to
mention the thought still brought flashes of my birthday back a little too
vividly.
Part of me wished I could have
enjoyed the summer more, but I couldn’t pour my heart into a half-life. It felt
like all summer I asked myself if any of it was worth it. Was this petty
existence worth anything at all? And every time I asked, the answer was no.
Mother filled the weeks before school
with college visits so I could learn which colleges best suited me. I felt more
relaxed and involved as I went from one campus to another, comforted by the
less superficial atmosphere. It was promising me something more of a life. And
while I strolled through lecture halls and parks, I forgot myself. I felt more
at peace in my skin, putting aside any disturbing realities of my life. I am
somewhat ashamed to admit I had forgotten Drei in that time as well. In fact,
all of it had been forgotten.
I returned for the start of school
with my new resolve and feeling less troubled. My worries consisted mostly of
finding time for my three advanced placement courses, seven clubs, four volunteer commitments, and anything else that would keep my mind from everything I had
forgotten. Of course, then, I hadn’t realized that was the purpose for my over-involvement.
A couple of months into the school
year, I found everything slipping from beneath me again. All the control and
the careful steps I had taken to stay ignorant were stripped from me. All with
one disastrous event.
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