by M. B. Feeney
Once we got past that part of my last entry— I’ve been told I need to write more, but we’ll see; Mizz Jones was very interested in talking about my relationship with Ty before the Jessie thing. That conversation was short. I told her he’s an egotistical bastard who I couldn’t stand the sight of. The feelings are most definitely mutual. It’s been that way all of my life. We’re just too different.
According to her, it’s sad when siblings don’t get on, and she’s sure we’ll make it up when we’re older. Yeah, I can’t see that happening. The guy’s a complete dick. I can’t wait to move away to college, so I don’t have to deal with him and my Dad’s favoritism of him over me anymore.
Aiden
—∫∫∫∫—
January 2012
Bethany from my AP history class was paired with me for a research assignment today. I’ve not spoken to her much, but today we got on well. The library was closed for maintenance, so I invited her to work in the den at home. Big mistake.
Mom saw us arrive and was positively giddy the entire time she was here. It had been ages since I’d brought a girl to the house— not since Jessie. We worked for three hours solid before Bethany had to leave. Naturally, Mom asked her to stay for dinner. I know it was cruel of me, but I couldn’t help but smile when her face fell at Bethany’s apologies for having to go and meet her boyfriend, Chad. It was clear to me that the idea of me forgetting about Jessie by getting close to another girl had obviously crossed my Mother’s mind. The fact that I brought home a girl who already had a boyfriend seemed to crush Mom for a moment.
I love my parents dearly, but I wish they’d give me the freedom they gave Ty. Yeah, he’s a college student, but that doesn’t make him any more mature or responsible than I am. Mizz. Jones actually suggested I show them my journal entries, but soon changed her mind when I shut her down. I’d promised myself to never yell at her again, but I couldn’t help myself this time.
Now I think she thinks I have parent issues on top of my anger and depression.
Why can’t people just realize I’m a teenager who had his heart ripped out and stomped all over instead of being someone who needs to be ‘fixed’?
Aiden
Chapter Three
January 2012
Two entries in one day, Mizz. Jones will be proud. She hates that I refer to her in this way, but right now, I don’t care. Mom keeps telling me that I’ve never defied authority in such a way before, and to stop, but I’m fed up of being ‘the good’ King Brother; the one shouldering all the expectations. Plus, knowing she reads these entries gives me a fizzle of pleasure.
I’m starting to not recognize myself. Before all this shit, I was happy chilling in the den working on school work or reading, but since Jessie. . . I can’t explain it. It’s not enough anymore. Yeah, I still work hard; it’s the only way I’ll be able to get out of this house for at least three years. Ty did college the lazy way. He opted to live at home, but still parties on campus all the time. I’m determined to do it all the right way. Campus housing, getting a part time job, and making excuses about not being able to come back during the holidays. The real student life.
I’d made plans with Jessie about coming home as much as I could while she stayed at the local college— their cheerleader squad is ranked one of the best in the state. I now wonder if she chose it because of my brother; I guess I’ll never know.
Do you know what I hate most of all? Jessie’s friends, who had started to become my friends, have shown their true colors by ignoring me completely. At lunch, I don’t even bother sitting in the cafeteria, even in the rain. I have a bench out on the quad where I can watch them without being noticed; something I hate myself for doing, but it’s like a drug. I can’t stop.
The only real friend I have is Zac. He’s a member of the History Club with me. We’ve both applied to the same schools, giving us the possibility of being on the same course. We’ve already decided that we’ll room together, if that happens. He didn’t hang around much while Jessie and I were a thing, not because I spent all my time with her, but because he gets uncomfortable around the popular crowd. Living through High School being tripped over, or shoved into lockers will have that effect on a guy. I was lucky, I never got it as bad as the others because of who my brother is; he just saved it for when we were at home.
I guess having a brother like mine exposed me to that side of life early on. Not that I ever envied him being accepted and included because of his looks and demeanor. He became more and more popular as he was accepted onto more sports teams. La Crosse, basketball, and track, to name just three. Dad was so proud and was always helping him with his training; rearranging his timetable at school so his sports sessions wouldn’t clash. He was the ‘Big man on Campus’, strutting around in his lettered jackets, even after he graduated.
Just once, I’d like to not be compared to him. No questions about why I didn’t play basketball because “you’ve got the height” or the long standing joke of “are you sure you’re brothers?” Why can’t my triumphs be as widely accepted as his?
Aiden
—∫∫∫∫—
January 2012
I ditched my meeting with Mizz. Jones today. Less than four hours sleep and a full day at school had given me a wicked headache. All I wanted to do was go home and sleep, but Mom was working from home. Instead, I drove thirty minutes to the beach.
When I arrived, I was hesitant to get out of the car, because the last time I’d been there was with Jessie. The place held amazing memories of last summer, and I didn’t want to taint them. Regardless of what had happened, and what she’d said to me, we’d still had some great times together.
Eventually, I got out. The rain that had been pouring down less than an hour before had stopped, but the wind was bitter. I didn’t care; I walked down onto the sand. Memories hit me as I walked towards the cove. Little flashes of Jessie’s smile, the feel of her skin, how it felt to kiss her. I reached the cove and I couldn’t walk anymore. It was there we first. . . Well. I’m not ashamed to admit that I broke down.
It’s just occurred to me; that was the first time I cried over everything that had happened. Yeah, I was angry and stuff, but I never really got emotional in that way. I can honestly say that when I managed to stop, I felt so much better – despite the headache being three times worse than it was when I arrived. For the first time in a long time, I realized that everything was going to be okay. It may take a while for me to get over things, and I would never forgive my brother or Jessie, but I was going to get over it.
Knowing I’ll be fine has made my focus on life clear. I need to make sure I graduate with the best grades possible and follow my original plan. How is it that all it takes to remind me of what’s important is writing about crying on a beach? Looking back at the mistakes I’ve made in the past, it's always something simple that made me realize which path I need to follow.
Thinking back to sitting on the beach, crying over everything that has happened in the past four months. I was worried when I first got there that I wouldn’t be able to separate the beach with thoughts of Jessie, but the longer I sat there; the less I associated her with where I was.
She’s always going to be . . . There, inside me, but I’d worked out how to make it not eat me alive.
Tyler. Well, that’s different. He’s blood, and that’s supposed to count for something.
I’m actually looking forward to telling Mizz. Jones that I have no need for her any more, not that I did in the first place.
Aiden
Chapter Four
February 2012
Mizz. Jones has decided that she will continue to see me until the end of this month, but not every week. So, I have two more meetings with her, and then I can put this shit storm behind me.
She was surprised when I opened up in our session yesterday about my trip to the beach. Usually, whenever she asked a question, I only told her the bare minimum of information. I guess that’s one of the main reasons she
extended the length of our ‘association’. She’s hoping yesterday wasn’t a one off.
I still refused to commit to making things up with Tyler or Jessie. That’s just something I can’t even comprehend doing, never mind promising to do it. For some reason, she can’t accept this, despite telling me she understands.
Mom has given up trying to get me and Ty to kiss and make up. I overhead Dad telling her to knock it off and that we would sort things out in our own time. For once she listened to him, but not before sitting us down and giving this big speech about blood being more important than a sex life. It was the worst thing ever.
Mizz. Jones reminded me today that I need to start looking through my acceptance letters to make the decision about which college I wanted to attend. Despite my best efforts, none of the Ivy League schools had offered me anything. I was seriously bummed about this, but there was nothing I could do about it now.
I wondered if the principal’s report I’d requested, outlined my recent behavior. Had it outweighed my stellar association with the History club and the re-enactment society, headed up by Mr. Hapley and the board members over at the oil refinery? These guys had more money than they knew what to do with, so one weekend a month, they’d re-enact a battle from American history.
As geeky or nerdy as it sounds, I loved every minute; running through the mud and firing guns. The attention to detail on our uniforms rendered me speechless every time I got to put one on.
However, despite my disappointment at not getting into an Ivy League school, I was given two promising offers; with both schools having fantastic History programs. One in state, one out of state. Which one I chose, would depend on what funding I’d receive. Naturally, I’d apply for a Pell Grant, in the hopes I’d get at least three or four grand, but I’d need to start looking into where I else I could apply.
I’ve applied to be the student TA for Mr. Hapley, my AP History teacher, for the rest of the school year. I think I’m in with a good chance and hope I get it, and not only because it’ll look good on college applications. As far as I know, it’s between me and Zac; and as we’ll likely end up at the same school, things could get competitive.
Speaking of Zac, we had a rare heart to heart talk during our free period after registration. It felt weird opening up to him, but it felt good to make him understand what had been going on with me. He never liked Jessie and wasn’t surprised by the things she said to me after we broke up. I know it’s not something we normally do. Guys, we don’t usually talk to each other about our feelings, but after having not spoken to Mizz. Jones about anything, I needed to speak to someone.
Knowing someone knows the full story and has my back feels good. I guess I have something to thank Mizz. Jones for after all.
Aiden
—∫∫∫∫—
February 2012
Mom and Dad sat me and Ty down this afternoon. My first thought was that they thought one of us had done something wrong, because that’s all they seem to talk to us about lately, but no. They informed us that some chick from England was coming to stay with us on some exchange program her school’s running.
I was tempted to ask if I could go stay at her house in her place, just to get away from all the shit here, but before I could, Mom said that it wasn’t a typical exchange. She was staying here, but no one was going over in her place. Apparently only six students were picked to come over. That blows, I’d love to go to England and see all the history over there for myself. Don’t get me wrong, I love American history, but England has ten times the amount we have, and then some. Being there would be amazing, and I admit to feeling cheated.
Ty got that telltale glint in his eye and he even grinned at me when our parents weren’t looking; he was gunning for her. That’s fine, he can have her. I’m too busy keeping my GPA up so I can get out of this damn house.
The only information Mom has is her name, Holly, and that she was seventeen. Great, it’ll be down to me to take her to and from school and play tour guide. At least Ty won’t be around during the school day to Lord it over me about how easy it was to get in her panties and then leaving her a mess for me, Mom, and Dad to clear up.
I’m also thinking about asking Mom for her email address to drop her a line, telling her to not come, or to at least find another host family.
I wouldn’t subject anyone to this house.
Aiden
Chapter Five
March 2012
So, Mizz. Jones is willing to stop seeing me, for a month; to see how I cope with my ‘issues’, without having the knowledge that I’ll be seeing her within a week to fall back on. I told her it wasn’t necessary for her to “reassess the situation” in April, but she’s being stubborn about it.
I don’t even know why, when I don’t have to, I’m still writing in this journal. Maybe its habit, or maybe it’s a comfort blanket kinda thing. I don’t know, but I’m going to keep doing it for a while, see what happens. It may be that in a couple of days, I’ll put the book to one side and forget all about it.
I’ll never tell Mizz. Jones, if we start meeting again, that I’ve come to actually enjoy writing this shit down. I fought her so hard about this damn journal, but I guess, and I’ll never tell her this, she was right about it. Diary writing is something that boys don’t do. Well, I’d never thought it was, until I started this one.
Ty saw me writing in the book yesterday, and tried to take it off me. My heart leaped into my throat at the thought of him reading stuff like this. Luckily, Mom walked in as he grabbed it and made him give it back. I’m making sure I hide it properly from now on. Mom and Dad know all about the journal that Mizz. Jones gave me, yet they’ve never once asked if they can read it− not that I’d let them if they did. I don’t know whether this means they’re uninterested or if they’re giving me some privacy.
Even though I barely spoke to her when I had to sit in her office every week, not having Mizz. Jones to discuss this with is making it harder to write this shit down. I honestly thought it would get easier without her reading the entries every week, but it’s the opposite.
Maybe there’s something to this therapy schtick.
Aiden
—∫∫∫∫—
March 2012
I got some great news today, which has made deciding which school’s place to accept. The board members from the oil refinery sent me a letter offering me funding. That’s ten grand towards my tuition, something they only offer to one Senior a year.
Naturally, there are conditions to the offer. The first of which is that I have to stay in state to qualify. I had been torn, but this offer has made it easier to make my decision. They’ve invited me, Mom, and Dad to have a meeting to discuss the possibility of an annual payment rather than a one off lump sum.
Mom’s beside herself. I know she’d been really worried about me heading to college. Ty got a full ride thanks to his sports, but it was looking less likely I’d be offered anything similar. My college fund held about twenty to thirty grand, which would begin to cover one year’s tuition, depending on the school, but after that. . . She was panicking. If we take this offer, added to the Pell Grant I’ve applied for, it could really help us all out.
Speaking of Mom, she’s been decorating the guest bedroom, ready for this Holly chick. She can’t wait to have another woman round the house I guess. Ty’s prowling like she’s already here, so I’ve been spending more and more time either with Zac or at the library.
It’s going to be weird having a stranger in my house, but I’m hoping it’ll take everyone’s attention away from me for a while, give me the chance to concentrate on school work.
Aiden
—∫∫∫∫—
April 2012
Ty came home wasted last night. There was a major kegger at a frat house after his Lacrosse game. He gave all the talk about needing to celebrate the win and to let off steam, but Dad wasn’t happy at all, and for punishment has told him he has to go pick Holly up at the airport. He tried to bri
be me to go in his place, but there was no way I was letting him get out of that shit. I had work to do, plus I needed to prep for this meeting with the board at the oil refinery.
I actually went to speak to Mizz. Jones this morning. For some reason, I’m feeling a bit anxious about this girl coming to live in our house. It’s different than someone, family, staying for a few days, but this chick’s gonna be here for six whole weeks. That’s more than enough time for so much shit to happen, and go wrong. The rest of the day at school was spent in a fog of feeling uncomfortable, an inability to concentrate, and a general awkwardness. Knowing there would be a stranger in my house by the time I got back home didn’t sit well with me, and I tried to put off heading home, until I literally had nothing to do.
I’d missed the bus, so had to walk home. Thankfully, it wasn’t far, and I took advantage of the time to myself and my thoughts. My car was in the shop for a service, and I was missing it.
When I walked up to the front door, I could hear voices inside and I felt sick. Rising above it, I walked inside. My family and Holly were sat at the table about to eat. She’d only been there a matter of minutes, yet they looked like a complete family.
Not sure what to do, I uttered a few welcomes and pleasantries before escaping to the sanctuary of my room. Her blue eyes were on my mind the entire evening.
