Life As We Know It

Billie swims around in circles, my eyes following him round and round the glass fish bowl. He’s my tenth goldfish. So far he’s outlived my last one by two days. I keep killing them and mom keeps buying me new ones. I’m not entirely sure why, but I’m not going to question it. I’d asked for a ferret but dad shot that one down, claiming that they smell bad. In the end it was probably for the best. I can flush the dead fish down the toilet; I’m not sure what I’d do if the ferret died.

“Mikey, come on it’s time to leave for school,” mom says from the other side of the door.

“Not going,” I answer back, not taking my eyes off the fish in front of me.

I can hear my mom sigh, her hand slapping against her leg, “Mikey, I’ve let you skip the last two days. You need to go to school. If you miss again I’m going to have to get you a doctors note.”

I roll my eyes, getting up from my desk chair and pulling the door open. My mom is standing in the hallway, her brown hair pulled up into a tight bun. She looks worn down, bags beginning to form under her bright blue eyes. Not having Gerard around and me being me is taking a toile on her. She’s used to my older brother having these conversations with me. “Then get a note.”

“Mikey please, we can’t keep doing this,” my mom begs.

I’d been officially diagnosed with depression over the summer. It’s been almost a month since all my friends left for college and I’ve not been doing well. The pills that Gerard or Scarlett basically forced me to take have been long forgotten under a pile of dirty clothes. It’s not like they do anything anyway. I’ve missed fourteen days of class since school had started exactly a month and seven days ago. I don’t know anyone there anymore. I sit alone at lunch, spending most of my day hiding in the nurse’s office or trying to blend into the background. Gerard had tried to convince mom to let me go to high school in the city so that I could be around my friends. That was shot down quickly after Gee and dad got into a screaming match and Gerard had spent two whole weeks sleeping at Bob’s house.

“I don’t want to go,” I assert about to close the door when I see someone moving in the background.

Stepping around my mom I move up the hallway and into the living room. Sitting on the couch is Bob. He’s covered in grease, his hands resting on the knees of his worn out blue jeans. Bob is the only one of our group that didn’t leave Belleville. He’s content here, helping his dad run their small farm on the outskirts of town and working on his welding. I spend most weekends at Bob’s, watching him create art out of metal pieces or fix up cars. The blonde never forces me to do more than I’m willing or be happy when I don’t feel like it. His place has become more like a home than my actual house.

“Hey Bob, what’re you doing?” I greet, trying to muster up a smile.

“You’re mom called me.”

“Why?”

“She said you’d not left your room since Sunday night when I dropped you back off,” Bob admits getting up from the couch and walking over to me. “What’s going on Mikes?”

“I’m fine Bob,” I mumble back, moving into the kitchen and pulling the refrigerator door open. I’m not hungry but I look inside anyway just for something to do.

“Then why don’t I drive you to school?” I see the welders hand curl around the top of our white fridge, leaving behind a dark smudge.

I shrug, “Don’t feel like it.”

“You can’t keep on like this Mikes. I don’t want to call Gerard but you aren’t giving me much of a choice.”

I slam the refrigerator door closed, standing quickly. “Don’t. Call. My. Bother. Gerard has got enough to deal with at college. He can’t come home.”

“Go get dressed and I’ll drive you to school,” Bob instructs, pulling out his phone to let me know he’s serious.

“I am dressed.”

Bob raises an eyebrow at me, his lips tugging down into a frown. “You’re in Spiderman pajama pants Mikes.”

I shrug off his comment, moving back into the living room to pull on my red converse and the Thrasher sweatshirt I’d stolen from Frank before he’d left for college. “It’s not like anyone pays attention anyway.”

Bob shrugs, pulling open the front door and ushering me outside, shouting a quick goodbye to my mom. I climb into the truck, turning the heat on. Although it’s only September it’s started to get chilly in the mornings, dew clinging to the grass. My eyes follow the burly blonde as he gets in on the driver side, closing his eyes and letting out a long breath before putting the car in reverse and backing down the driveway. “I need ten bucks for gas.”

Digging around in my backpack I pull out some wadded up bills, placing them on the dashboard.

“Still selling your Adderall?”

“Yup. Can you get me from school today? I actually need to get more.”

“Whatever you need little dude. Are you heading into the city next week?”

“I told Gerard and Scarlett that I would. I’ve got enough cash for the train there. If I sell the rest of my pills and half of the ones I’m getting today I should have enough to get back home. Mom asked about the deposits in my account so I’m going to have to lay off that for a little,” I respond, noticing that Bob turns in the opposite direction of the school. I raise an eyebrow at him, not sure what we’re doing.

“I called the school and told them that you’re going to be late. The office lady just sounded like she was happy you’d be coming in at all. I figured we could get some breakfast. Waffle House okay with you?” Bob explains as we sit at a red light. “Marcus is going to meet us there.”

I nod. Marcus is Bob’s boyfriend. They met at some show Bob went to last summer. Marcus found out that Bob only lived ten minutes away from him. The two of them have been inseparable since. When I’d first found out that Bob was gay I couldn’t believe it and thought the group was just trying to mess with me. After I’d met Marcus I realized that it was true and stopped asking questions. The two boys are the only friends I have left here. I’m glad for that. “How are you two doing?”

Bob smiles, his cheeks dusting a light pink, “We’re great. He came by the shop yesterday and hung out for a while. I’ll have to show you what he made. Now that he’s not terrified of the welding gun anymore he’s getting pretty good. I think we’re going to take a trip to the beach soon, maybe while you’re in New York.”

“Good, you guys need some time without me around,” I answer back, glancing out the window as we pull into the parking lot of Waffle House. I spot Marcus’s bright red bug situated between two beat up cars.

“We don’t mind having you around,” Bob answers back as he shuts off the car and we get out.

The second Bob is around the back of his truck a thin boy dressed in skinny jeans and a bomber jacket hurries over to us a huge smile across his face, wrapping his arms around Bob. I stand silently, shifting my weight from foot to foot, eyes set on the dying bushes outside the restaurant. The two boys stand smiling happily at each other, Bob running his hands through Marcus’s copper hair. The small boy bats away the welders hand with a laugh.

“We’re making Mikey uncomfortable,” Marcus chuckles, turning his emerald green eyes towards me.

“You guys are cute,” I respond, letting Bob’s boyfriend pull me into a hug.

Once all the touchy feely crap is out of the way, the three of us head into the restaurant, grabbing a booth towards the back corner.

“Does Mikey need me to call his school again to get him out of classes?” Marcus teases, giving me a wink. He’s called the school more times than I can count, claiming to be my dad or doctor. Mom’s never caught on and the redhead is usually more than happy to do it, wanting to be an actor one day.

“Naw, he’s going to school today, just didn’t want to send him on an empty stomach,” Bob answers back as an older lady walks over to our booth questioning if we’d like drinks.

Marcus orders some kind of tea, Bob gets a soda and I order coffee still not at all hungry. Instead I watch the people working behind the counter. They shout orders, crack eggs, pulling open various doors and move around each other in an intricate kind of dance. I like watching people. Each one has their own individual life but somehow they all interact. Scarlett taught me how to appreciate stuff like that. She sees the world so differently than everyone else. In some ways I’m jealous, it’s like she’s got a super power. Pulling out my phone I text her, wanting to feel closer to the people that left me behind.

Thinking about you while sitting in this Waffle House.

Why are you at Waffle House? School?

Skipping first few periods to have breakfast with Bob and Marcus. Not doing so hot.

After I type this out I begin to worry that Scarlett with share this information with by brother, sending him rushing home to start taking care of me all over again. I can’t have that happen. Gerard needs to have his own life. I can’t keep being a burden on him. He’s got too much potential to be stuck in this shitty town. I quickly shoot off another text, hoping that it isn’t too late.

Don’t tell G!!

Don’t worry I won’t. I’m not doing so great either. Wanna talk?

When I’m visiting. Can you wait till then?

Of course! Try and be positive Mikes. You’ll be here soon enough.

“Mikey? Are you getting anything?” Bob’s voice pulls me from the conversation I’ve been having with Scarlett. She usually prefers to talk on the phone but I can sometimes keep her responding. This morning is one of those rare occasions.

“I’m paying so get whatever you want,” Marcus chimes in, flashing me his overly white teeth.

“Not hungry,” I mumble back before picking up the coffee mug in front of me, taking a sip. The black liquid scolds my tongue and the roof of my mouth. Swallowing quickly, I let out a cough, wiping my watery eyes with my sweatshirt sleeve. Great, now my fucking mouth is going to hurt for the next few days. My phone buzzes against the plastic tabletop and I quickly grab it, glancing at who texted. Scarlett again.

Remember to take your pills.

There is a little red heart at the end of the message. Groaning, I shove the phone into the sweatshirt pocket and place my forehead on the slightly sticky table. I should have never let Bob convince me to leave the house. I just want to sit in my desk chair and watch Billie swim in circles and watch serial killer documentaries until I pass out from boredom.

“Are you sure he’s okay?” Marcus questions after Bob and he have ordered their breakfast.

Bob sighs, placing his hand over his boyfriends, “No Marcus, he’s not okay, that’s why he’s here.”

“Has he seen a doctor?” that’s Marcus again, his voice a few octaves higher than Bob’s.

“Please don’t talk about me like I’m not here,” I grumble, not even bothering to lift my head from the table.

“He has, he just refuses to take his pills,” Bob responds.

Letting out a frustrated sigh I lift my head just enough so that I can rest my chin on the grey tabletop, “I said, please don’t talk about me like I’m not here.”

“Sorry,” Marcus responds, reaching forward and brushing a strand of hair out of my face. “We’re just worried Mikes. This isn’t like you. Do you want to talk about it?”

“All my friends left and I’m stuck here, end of story.”

The freckled boy in front of me sighs, shrugging out of his deep brown bomber jacket and scooting it across the table to that I can rest my chin on it. I give him a weak smile, enjoying the feeling of the soft leather under my skin. “You’ve got Bob and I. We’ll hang out with you anytime. I gave you my number. It isn’t like I’m in school. I’ll even come get you early. We can go to the movies, or get food, or go see Bob. Hell, I’ll even drive you all the way into the city if you wanted me to.”

“I appreciate you and Bob, I really do. I also appreciate that you’d do all that for me,” I answer back, hoping that my words come off as genuine and not sarcastic. I’m not trying to be a dick. I’ve grown closer to Bob and have found a good friend in Marcus. The two bend over backwards to try and make me happy and get me out of the house or Bob’s workshop as much as possible. I know I’m not making any of this easy on them. “I’m sorry I’m such a fuck.”

“You aren’t a fuck Mikey, you’re just dealing with a lot. Its hard having people you care about living far away.” Bob insists, earnest blue eyes making contact with mine. “We’re all going to work through this together.”

For the first time this morning I give Bob a genuine smile. He wouldn’t lie to me. Neither of the boys sitting across from me are getting tired of me being depressed all the time. They want to see me get better and be happy again. Suddenly, my appetite comes back. “Could I get an omelet?”

Marcus laughs at me, “You can get whatever you want.”

Once we’ve all finished breakfast and Bob and Marcus have said their goodbyes, a rather long make out session in the middle of the parking lot, the blonde and I get into his truck and we head towards the school. Although I still don’t want to go, I do feel a little better than I did earlier this morning. I’ve only got two more days left in this week and then break; a full four days of not having to be stuck in classes.

“I’ll be in the football field parking area after school,” Bob says, as he pulls up in front of the brick building that is Belleville High.

“And we can go straight to the clinic?”

“Yeah, then, if I can clear it with your mom, you can come do homework over at my place. Marcus wants to make us dinner.”

“Sounds good dude. Thanks for everything,” I answer back, throwing the door open and stepping out onto the sidewalk.

Bob gives me a salute as I shut the door and head inside of the building in front of me. Here goes nothing.

Most of the day passes in a blur. At lunch I sit on the steps, picking at the sandwich my mom had shoved in my bag earlier that morning. It looks decent enough, but I’ve lost my appetite again. A few individuals come to sit with me holding out green bills between their fingers. I dig around in my bag, pulling the clear orange bottle out of the pocket and depositing the desired amount into little bags. I’d started using the button bags that usually come with shirts after I’d seen Scarlett do it with weed. They’re pretty handy and easy to come by, seems as most people don’t even keep the buttons. Sometimes when I go out shopping I’ll just pull the bags off the clothing items hanging on the racks. No one has ever told me to stop. By the end of lunch I’ve sold the rest of the Adderall in the bottle and have promised a few people that I’d have more tomorrow; the thirty dollars I’ve made filling my wallet nicely.

I skip my last two periods of the day, Pre-calculus and English, to go to the nurse’s office. As always she leads me over to the cot right by her desk, fidgeting with the television until it’s on a channel I enjoy. Once she’s assured I’m comfortable and starting to feel better she’ll sit back down and continue filling out the newspaper crossword puzzles. When the final bell rings, I wave goodbye and exit the building, heading over towards the parking lot where Bob said he would be. As I finish walking up the couple concrete stairs leading to the car lot, I spot Bob’s truck, sitting idle by the chain link fence. Crossing the lot I pull open the passenger door and climb inside. The blonde gives me a grunt before putting the car in drive and heading out of the parking lot. “How was school?”

“Shitty, thanks for asking,” I respond, shooting Bob a sideways glance to see his reaction to my sarcasm. “How was your day?”

“Besides my dad pouring an entire thing of coolant on the ground because he’s old and clumsy, pretty okay. Marcus is still at the shop. He’s been there all day.” Bob smiles, turning into the parking lot of a small white building with green shingles a few of which are missing. A sigh on the door reads ‘Cheap Pharmaceuticals’ along with the insurance companies they work with.

Digging around in the truck’s glove compartment I find a pen and scribble on the back of my hand to make sure it works. Once I know the pen works I begin to go through my backpack, trying to find the small prescription card. Eventually I find it, slid into the notebook that serves as my planner. Holding the sheet of paper against the window I cross out the date for the hundredth time, switching it to a more suitable year or month.

“Are you ever going to just go to your doctor and ask him for a new prescription. I’m sure he’d give it to you.”

“Maybe one day,” I answer back. “I can’t have a regular doctor know how often I’m getting this prescription filled though. They’d get suspicious.”

Bob just rolls his blue eyes as I recap the pen and toss it back inside the glove compartment. Climbing out of the car, I walk towards the building's front door. It’s warm inside even though there really isn’t a need for the heating to be turned on yet. An elderly woman with greying hair smiles at me, instructing me to sign in with her and that I should be back to see a pharmacist soon. I scribble my name down in the check in book and pull a number, walking over to one of the purple, plastic chairs once all this is complete. I fold and unfold my prescription, trying to not look around too much. This place is in one of the sketchier parts of town and a lot of people here aren’t super friendly. I don’t want to cause any problems and not be able to restock. A burly man covered in tattoos is called right before me. He lets out a grunt before getting up and disappearing through the heavy black door.

“G-17,” the mechanical man’s voice calls out.

Glancing down at my ticket I realize that that’s my number and stand up. I walk slowly across the waiting room and push the door open. I keep my eyes fixed on the signs above the windows, looking for my number. It’s glowing above the last station in the hallway. I walk up the counter, standing in front of a young looking guy with jet-black hair. He fiddles with his glasses before looking up at me.

“What can I help you with today?” he says with a friendly smile.

I shove the prescription at him, “Just need a refill.”

He barely even looks at the slip of paper, just locating the pill name and the dosage before handing it back and disappearing amongst the aisles of pills. I let out a sigh, knowing that the worst part is over. He’s going to come back with a little orange bottle in his hand and I’m going to be free to go pay the friendly lady up front. Once you’ve got the bottle no one asks any more questions.

“There you are. Have a nice day Michael,” the man says, sliding the pill bottle across the counter, giving me a warm smile.

“You too,” I answer back quickly before gathering up the bottle and heading back up the hallway.

The elderly woman from earlier scans the barcode on my pills and I hand over the twelve dollars required to purchase them. I’m not sure how this clinic is able to sell medicine for so cheap, but I’m thankful that they can. I couldn’t ever use my insurance in here and going to the hospital to get my prescription refilled just seems terrible. They ask so many questions at those places. I’d never get away with refilling every few weeks. I hardly ever see the same people here asides from the lady at the front desk who I think is too old to remember who has and hasn’t been in here before.

“Get everything you need?” Bob questions as I get back into the truck and buckle up.

I shake the pill bottle in response, “Yup.”

“Cool. I just got off the phone with your mom. She says its fine if you come over and stay for dinner. I just have to have you home by ten. She said she’s transferring some money incase you need it.”

I nod, turning up the music in the car, “Lets go home Bob.”

Notes