Page 20 of The Golden Boy's Guide to Bipolar
I spit into the sink just as my second alarm goes off.
7:00 a.m. take meds
Yami keeps working on her hair, and I head over to the kitchen, where my mom is waiting for me with a plate of chorizo and papas. I reach for the pill counter and take out the pill for Monday, staring at it for a bit before doing anything.
Something in me is resisting going back to the routine hard, even with my mom back. It’s like, everything in my life feels so far out of my control right now. I don’t have a choice but to go toschool every day. I have to do my homework and ace every test to live up to everyone’s high expectations. I’m forced to go to therapy every single week. I don’t even get to date who I want. But this, I have control over. This, I can choose.
I put the pill in my mouth and pretend to swallow, then go to the bathroom just as Yami’s walking out. I close the door behind me and spit the pill out in the toilet.
At school, it’s more of the same boring shit I’m used to. Every class is almost impossible to stay awake in. I’m acing them anyway, so it really doesn’t matter if I’m awake or not. I’ve got a practically photographic memory, so as long as I skim whatever chapter we cover in the textbook later, there’s not really any need to take notes.
The teachers and I both know I’ll get all my homework right and do great on the tests. Some of them don’t even care if I sleep in class anymore as long as I keep my grades up. There’s really only two teachers who have actually tried to do anything about it. Mrs. Perry, the English teacher, never fails to give me a detention if she catches me, but I’ve gotten sneaky. Then there’s Mr. Franco. He catches me almost every time, but I never get in trouble. He usually just wants to talk. Still, it’s best to be stealth if I can help it.
It’s not that I don’ttryto pay attention, but even when I do, it’s all so boring. Mr. Franco has this slow, soothing, almost melodic voice. It’s like hewantsme to fall asleep. Luckily Jeremy’s the tallest guy in this class, so sitting behind him is about as safe as I can get. My eyes grow heavier and heavier, and finally I give in and close them....
“¡Oye maricón!” someone calls out. I flinch, not because of the word but because of who’s saying it.
I turn around to get a look at Nick and see he’s with all of them. Avery, Marcos, Antonio, Joseph, and Daniel all stand behind Nick like his little henchmen.
I don’t wait to be called that word again. I swing and hit Nick right in the nose. He hits back, but I dodge him all right. There’s a reason they always come at me all six of them. Before I know it, Avery has my arms pulled behind my back while the rest of them rush me. I flex my stomach, preparing for impact.
Nick wipes his bloody nose, then swings for my face.
BLAM!
My eyes shoot open to the sound of a textbook being slammed on my desk, making me fall out of my chair. Everyone cracks up, and I force myself to laugh with them, letting them believe my flushed face is from laughter and not that dream flashback.
“Asshole!” I playfully yell at Jeremy, who’s wheezing and wiping a joyful tear from his eye. I make myself get up and sit back down, even though my fists are still balled from the dream fight, and all I want to do is punchsomeone. It takes everything in me not to lash out. Instead, I laugh along, heat heavy in my ears.
The only person not laughing is Mr. Franco. “Language, Cesar,” is all he says before getting back to his lesson.
Everyone stops laughing when he goes back to teaching, but my ears ring so loud they all might as well still be mocking me, and those laughs might as well be coming from Nick and them. I can barely hear the bell signaling the end of class over the sound of my ears ringing.
“Cesar, will you stay a moment?” Mr. Franco asks, just when I stand to leave.
I pack up my bag and walk over to his desk, but he waits until everyone else is gone before saying anything.
“Didn’t sleep well last night?” he asks.
I shrug. “You know how it is,” I say casually.
“No, I don’t, actually.” His eyebrows knit together in a concerned expression, which I hate. “Is everything okay at home?”
“Everything is great,” I say truthfully. My mom and Yami are more supportive than I could ever ask for. Jamal is still my best friend, and he’s amazing. I have friends and straight As and I’m lucky enough to be here on scholarship and... and, and...
And I’m miserable.
The fuck is wrong with me?
“Are you sure? Everything all right with your mom and dad—”
“I don’t have a dad,” I interrupt, surprised by my own firmness.
Mr. Franco doesn’t stop with that pitying look. “I hope you know my door is always open if you need to talk. And if you don’t want to talk to me, we have a school counselor here who would be happy to—”
“Can I go now?” I cut him off, but when his eyebrows knit together again, I force a smile. “My next class is across campus. Don’t wanna be late.”
He finally smiles back. “All right, Cesar. Go ahead.”
