Page 6 of Through Quick and Quinn
So for now, it’s just me and you.
…Q
10/19/21
3:48 a.m.
We can see the line forming as soon as we round the corner. “Oh my gosh, Honey. Two hours, minimum.” He is trying his hardest to put on his best happy face, but the wait for this ride just might create the crack in the facade.
“This is the reason we came, Marcus. This very ride.” They lock eyes, almost as though they are telepathically communicating, before sharing a smile and a nod that was probably imperceptible to everyone else.
My dad squats down to my brother’s eye level to whisper. “Hey, you wanna go ride in your favorite red sports car?” It takes the five-year-old a moment or two, but we all see the lightbulb turn on. His eyes grow wide and he sucks in a quick gasp before releasing an elated squeal and launching himself into my dad’s arms.
“It’s going to be a long two hours,” I joke as we settle in line. I look behind me and am relieved to see that the line is already well beyond us. I hate when we are last. It gives me some strange comfort to know that at least I don’t have to wait as long as the poor folks after me.
My mom spots a snack stand off to the side of the line up ahead. She hands me a twenty-dollar bill. “Here, Deck. Go take your brother to get a churro. There and back, okay?”
+ + +
Hey,
I woke up from a familiar nightmare and I knew today would suck. Sure enough…
So the counselor at school called me in to talk about how my freshman year is going so far, my classes, any questions, blah blah blah. Probably some formality they have to check off their October to-do list. He starts talking about what classes I’ll have going forward and I’m not gonna lie—I got triggered. Get this. They have us taking math classes like calculus and then more calculus, but nothing about financial literacy? Seriously? What’s the percentage of the population that actually uses calculus versus the percentage of the population that needs to, I don’t know, know how to manage their money? Ridiculous. It’s total crap. The more I think about it, the more I think it’s done on purpose. Like, are they trying to break us with stress and totally irrelevant and incomprehensible concepts for teenagers? Or just keep us financially stupid and dependent? Both, I bet. Needless to say, my counselor probably flagged my name in the system when I left our little chat.
Anyway. Happy 8th birthday. I miss you, bud.
-Deck
+ + +
Hey,
Caught Mom sobbing her eyes out today. It’s been a while since I’ve seen that. I think she tries to do it in secret, probably to protect me. Actually, I don’t think that. I’m pretty sure she despises me and has zero interest in protecting me. Dad says she doesn’t want me to be reminded of what happened, but what they don’t realize is that nothing can suddenly remind me of what I think about 24/7. He has told me time and time again not to blame myself, but I do. And I always will. And as much as she’ll never admit it, I bet Mom blames me, too.
I can’t wait for Christmas break. I haven’t had as much time to dig as I would like because I’ve been bogged down with busywork for school, so I’m pumped to have the extra time. I’m going to spend it looking into the months of the year. I haven’t stopped thinking about it since yesterday. Smack dab in the middle of Spanish class, I realized that October/octubre comes from “eight.” Right? Like octagon and all that. So then I start going through the months… Sept is “seven” and Dec is “ten”… so all our numbered months are wrong? What? Dude. It’s like cracking a code and then all of a sudden realizing that I stumbled upon a big, fat secret that’s staring everyone in the face. I’m dying to figure it out.
Love you.
-Deck
Friday, January 14, 2022
Note to self:
It is quite interesting to consider how much can change in a relatively short amount of time. Just two years ago, Mandy and I were inseparable. A year ago, Mandy and I were still friendly. Today at school, not so much. I happened upon her in the hallway and she squawked something about me being a “weirdo freak witch.” It did not bother me, and honestly still doesn’t, but what stuck with me was the look on her face. It exuded utter disdain.
Perhaps I hurt her more than I realized, and definitely without intention. I meditated on it and contemplated trying to clear the air with her, but I don’t think it is the right time to do so. Nothing I say will be received well, and to be honest, her viewpoint of me isn’t really my work to tackle.
I’m in a good place right now. Things with Mom are even getting better. We’re going for doughnuts tomorrow at some new little shop that opened, just me and her. I’m hoping we will talk about something other than her work, but I highly doubt we will talk about my interests. They clearly make her feel uncomfortable, like I’m some spiritual energy wacko, and I know she’s hoping it’s a phase. Well, we’ll see how it goes!
…Q
***
Mandy / 7:47 p.m.
omg idk how I was ever friends with her!
