Stupid Human Tricks

Stupid Human Tricks

         ‘In memory of Andy’ is what showed up on everyone’s facebook, along with a cycle of pictures
         If I could have one unique power, it would be to make people understand me, especially in a world where every innocuous statement is taken offensively. The main reason I want such a power would be so that people would feel my pain.
         Just last week, my best friend Andy was killed in a car accident, and the moment I was privy to this information, I went completely numb. I didn’t even cry at the funeral. This caused more pain. I don’t know how to explain it.
         “Tyler.” The name resonated through my head, but bared no meaning. Was Tyler my name? It wouldn’t hurt to answer to it.
         “What.” I moaned, rolling over in bed.
         “You’re gonna have to go to school today, you’ve missed enough as it is.”
         “I don’t wanna move.”
         “Well you’re gonna have to, now come on, I’ll give you a ride.”
         It seemed impossible to find clothes that fit my likeness. My entire wardrobe consisted of t-shirts that had funny little sayings on them, or band logos. Unable to decide, I just grabbed the closest outfit off of the the coat hangers.
         “I don’t want to go to school today, Chris, people will ask questions.”
         “Just stay in back of the classroom and don’t talk to anyone.”
         “That won’t stop them if they really want to know something.”
         “If they understood, then they would leave you alone.”
         “Yeah, well, they wouldn’t understand, even if I tried explain it to them.”
         We were at the school now, so I got out of the car, towards the school that contained fourteen-hundred people that I had to talk to and answer questions for. It was nothing bad, I just didn’t want to talk about it. It’s not like I didn’t already know what they were going to say. ‘Are you alright?’ ‘Is there anything you need?’ ‘Do you miss him?’
         “I’ll pick you up after school.” Chris called from the car.
         I nodded in acknowledgement.
         Fourteen-hundred people to give a minute-by-minute of every emotion that passed through my head in the past week. This was going to be a long day.
         I tried hard to remain unseen, but to no avail; I was spotted by every damn person on campus.
         After a few minutes of walking across the school grounds, I realized I was wrong about them: they didn’t want to hear anything from me. Actually, it seemed like they had a strong aversion from getting the slightest bit involved with my personal life.
         It was hot, sunny today. The exact opposite of how I felt.
         As I walked through the halls, I felt everyone gazing at me. It made me feel self conscious about everything I did. Even the way I walked.
         During lunch, I sat alone. I wasn’t hungry. I wasn’t the slightest bit interested in food. I just stared at anyone that looked like they might be coming to sit with me and they quickly got uncomfortable and walked in another direction.
         There was an assembly today.
         In Memory of Andy.
         Whatever. I called Chris and he came to pick me up.
         When we got home, Chris asked me if I wanted anything to eat.
         “Ummmm... What are you planning on making?” I asked.
         “What do you want?”
         “Can we go somewhere to eat?”
         “Sure.”
         When you’ve just experienced a tragedy, everyone is nice to you. No more taking out the trash. No more doing the dishes. No more homework.
         Chris got the family down to the car and we set out for Taco Bell. On the way I let my hand hang out the window.
         “Get your hand back in the car.” Chris said.
         “I don’t want to.”
         “Fine.” Chris said.
         About two minutes later he swerved off the road a little bit and my hand hit a tree branch.
         “OW!”
         Chris laughed, “Okay, now pull your hand back in the car.”
         “Go to Hell.” I muttered.
         “Watch your language.”
         “No. It was justified. I don’t even know how you got your license, or even why Mom and Dad are letting you drive.”
         Chris just laughed and continued driving. The sun was getting dimmer now and the air had cooled down a little, so I put my sweater on.
      My parents haven't talked to me since Andy died. Like maybe I was non-salvageable, so there was no point in trying to help me through my situation. Their feelings for me now were apparent since the very moment I returned from the funeral smelling like death.
      "When will we get there, I'm friggen starving."
      "You're not starving, smart one. What you're feeling right now is what everyone experiences from time to time: hunger." Chris said, "You wouldn't last a day in Ethiopia with THAT attitude."
      "Christ, Chris, you remind me of my World Geography teacher."
      "Yeah, well, she was MY teacher at one point too. I guess I inherited some sympathy for third world countries."