Sunday, February 19, 2012

"Ellie": Fatherly Advice

I feel like such a loser lately.

At school, I spend a lot of my time alone. This is mostly be choice, since I really don't care for any of the people in this town or at the school. I'm getting a glimpse of a high school life I never had and I'm fine with the fact that I didn't live through this. I've seen such amazing things, the world, different bodies and lives, it's like... what do I have to say to any of these people? The dumb ones are all about Jersey Shore and LMFAO, and even the smart ones aren't nearly as cool as they think they are, just because they listen to old music and have Audrey Hepburn posters. Even my closest friend, my ex girlfriend Emily, is sinking into it. It's like she naturally morphed into this whole Teen Queen persona. She is not the girl I knew. She really isn't.

The last time I talked to her, she tried to fix me up with some guy, a friend of her boyfriend. I told her not to do me any favors.

I'm in a bad way, though. I'm nearly failing a lot of my classes. I guess I'm not book smart. I never even went to high school, I don't know much about studying! My "parents" have noticed.

One night I got up in the middle of the night to get a drink and I saw "Dad" flipping the channels. It was like 2 AM I guess. I asked what he was doing up.

"Couldn't sleep, didn't want to wake your mom. What are you doing up? It's a school night."

"Who cares?" I asked.

"Your mother cares. I care. We've noticed your marks aren't great."

"You know I'm not really your daughter, right? And she's not really my mom? And I don't give a shit what you think."

"Watch your mouth!" he scolded. There was a silence between us for a second. "I hate hearing you talk like that. Yes, damnit, I remember who you really are, but you look too young to talk like that. Would you mind?"

"Whatever," I said.

"It's a problem. Your schoolwork. Don't you care about anything? Wouldn't you like to graduate, finish high school, go do something with your life?"

"With my life?" I nearly choked. "You think I wanna stay here?"

"Don't you?"

"Hell no," I said. "And I think it's fucked up you assumed I did. What, you like it here?"

"Yeah. Actually, I do," he said. "I'm making good money. I'm in a stable partnership with a woman. We have a daughter."

"You've got a fucking lie!" I said in a whisper-yell. "We don't even know where the real Ellie and her dad are, let alone if they're trying to get back. You can do what you want but I'm not staying here a goddamn week longer than I have to."

"Well then," he said, "Maybe that's a good reason to try. So you don't throw Ellie's future away, no matter who ends up living this life."

I gritted my teeth. He went on. "I know you don't think I know what you're feeling right now. Maybe I don't. But I know it can't be good to shun the world the way you do. You're going through something right now, and you think because you're older that you're above it, but I don't think you are."

I said bitterly, "You think I need to make friends and study?"

"It could be good for you."

I wanted to yell out "FUCK YOU!" I wanted to storm off. If I really was a teenager, I probably would have. But I restrained myself and swallowed my anger.

"We've thought about hiring you a tutor, at least, to help you through this next semester. Then you can do what you want with your life, go back to Maine, go to school, whatever you need to do."

I turned around and went to my room but I didn't sleep. I was still hot with anger at the idea of this person trying to control my life, thinking he knows better than I do just because he looks like my dad. I wouldn't have taken that shit when we were the same age group, but suddenly he towers over me with his hairy gut and receding hairline and I take everything he has to say instead of fighting back.

After sleeping it off, though, I hated to admit there were parts of the conversation that made sense. There are things I could do to make my time here easier, but only I can make those decisions.

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1 Comments:

At 2/20/2012 8:14 AM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Have you considered mentioning all this to Emily? Look way back in the blog, to the entries from "Brianna". What looks like adaptation, getting lost in the role, may well just be a defense mechanism. Tell her how you feel. Why should she think you were the man you were if you don't act like it? And why should she be the woman she was if no one will treat her that way?

 

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