Angst (15 page)

Andy glares, his eyes slowly beginning to close again. Jared
grabs him, shaking him awake, showing him a photo on the camera. Andy’s eyes
won’t focus at first, but finally they do and he glares at Jared.

“You sir, are hilarious, the funniest man I have ever met. But
you are disturbing my sleep with your ridiculous antics and I won’t have it,”
he says, snuggling back down into the chair, closing his eyes, the mustache
still pasted on his face. He cracks open one eye, glaring at the rest of us. “Beat
it, all of you, coupla pairs of fucking clown shoes,” he says, closing his eyes
again, his mouth cracking a tiny smile. “Oh, uh, everyone except Hannah,” he
says, with a tiny grin, his eyes still closed.

#######################

Clouds, immense clouds of smoke

shadows creeping through hallways

dim with candle light

smoky rooms with walls inhaling

Faded words and sounds and sensations

Taste of orange laughter

Spinning in a smoky haze

Reflections dim, destroying minds

Time stands still tonight

For that second of unbroken silence

I live within myself

I live to tell the truth

My mind spins out of control

Creeping pulsation and musical beat

Pound in a mind empty and yet full

Smoky and yet clear

Spinning yet immensely still

In thoughts, clouded by you

Blurred by the image of your being

As clouded as mine

Respectfully yours

Forever and ever

Don’t speak

Just spin

I’m sleeping over at my cousin’s house. It’s probably around
5 o’clock in the morning, although I can’t really tell because it’s very dark
outside when I wake up. My bladder is full and I have to go immediately. I get
up. I’m not used to this house and the room is very dark, no nightlight in the
hall or in the room. The house and the dark scare me and I can’t find a light
switch anywhere, no matter how many times I run my hands over the cool drywall.
I begin to panic and my heart rate thuds in my chest.
I have to go, but I
can’t find my way to the bathroom!

I give up on finding lights and stumble through the
darkness, trying to find the stairs to the first floor. Finally I find them and
shuffle my way downstairs, gripping the wall, every toe hold desperately
sought. When I reach the first floor, the door of the only bathroom is shut
with a tiny sliver of light shining underneath. I can hear the shower. My uncle
must be getting ready for work. So I wait, hiding around the corner, hoping to
hear the door click open at any moment. I’ve really got to go. I dance, I
squeeze my legs together. Half an hour goes by in uncomfortable crisis. I look
outside again. It’s dark and unfamiliar, no moon. I’m too afraid to go outside
in the cold and darkness, so that option is out.

I pick my way back upstairs and try to lie down and go back
to sleep and ignore my bladder. I feel panicked that if I do not go now I am
going to die. I am afraid, terrified of what might happen, terrified of the
monsters in the black hall, terrified of peeing my pants. I feel hot and sweaty
and my pajamas are sticky with moisture. My heart is beating too fast for my
little body. I get up and go back downstairs.
Yellow slit.
No luck. I am
terrified of my uncle, so I don’t dare knock on the door, and I certainly don’t
want him to catch me outside. I stumble back upstairs thinking about how afraid
I am of my big, scary, gruff uncle, looking out the window longingly. I really
have to go now, it’s unbearable, and once I am in the bedroom I can’t hold it
any longer. My bladder explodes all over the floor and my clothes. The smell is
pungent and horrible.

I climb back into bed because I don’t know what else to do. I
feel completely out of control. I feel embarrassed that this has happened to
me. I feel too old to have wet my pants.
I am ashamed.

So I gave him my phone number. Right before Hannah and I
left, the unthinkable happened, he asked if he could call me sometime. Ever
since then, my previously un-interesting phone has taken on new significance. I’m
waiting for it to blow up. I can’t stop thinking about it. I’ll forget for a
little while, caught up in something else, when suddenly I’m reminded that he
might call and my phone is the medium through which we might be connected. Please
ring!!!!

I’m suddenly lightheaded, dizzy, my stomach wrenching into a
knot one day in astronomy class when it’s announced that there will be a
mandatory field trip to the planetarium next week and that a bus is going to
pick us up. Instantly heat sears me, my pulse throbbing as I sit in the
uncomfortable stadium seating surrounded by my peers. I feel like I’m on fire,
cheeks red hot and noticeable to everyone around me.
Shit!! There is no way
on God’s green earth that I will ever take a bus ride again in my entire life.
My mind races through the possibilities of terror and trapped embarrassment at
the hands of my college classmates. They will never be kind, of that much I’m
certain. Then I think…
maybe I can drive my own car and meet them there?
Momentary
relief floods me as I decide I’m going to ask the professor after class if he
would mind.

Then my sick little mind starts to race on to other fears,
the idea of sitting in the planetarium where it’s dark and the doors are shut. What
if you’re not supposed to leave your seat during the presentation? What will I
do then? This sucks. It’s part of my grade and I have no choice but to go
through with it.

Now that I think about it, I’ve been to the planetarium once
before as a young child. It was one of my torturous unbearable field trip
experiences as a kid after the incident in Florida. I had gotten through it,
somehow. I think we had been asked to stay in our seats, but in the face of
grave embarrassment or perhaps sickness, leaving the room could be managed. It
would be a one-time shot.

It’s funny because whenever I panic and feel that I need to
leave the space that’s causing me distress, I inevitably feel like I can’t
return. To sit back down and then start to panic again and disrupt everyone
again is unthinkable. I can’t do it. My fear and the sickness would only
strengthen, becoming unbearable, simply because I was afraid of it, because I
didn’t want to feel that way. I can see myself now, sitting there, tense, on
edge, nervous, afraid the entire time, not allowing myself leave because it
would be my one chance. I’d try to last as long as possible, attempting to
shove down the demented thoughts and sick bodily sensations.

I don’t pay much attention to the rest of the lecture that
day in astronomy class. My professor’s droning voice continues on about the
Milky Way and slides flash up on the screen but I’m too busy, caught up in my
own thoughts and feelings, despairing of ever being normal, of ever enjoying
life as simply as other people do.
How I wish I could be an oblivious dumb-fuck!
To never feel the clenching of my stomach or the rising panic in my throat as I
realize a frightening situation is upon me. Most of the time, I’m able to fight
through it. I can’t let it completely control my life, although at times I
think it’s going to beat me, that I’m going to end up some broken person, alone
and crazy with fear of everyday life.

But when these thoughts start to blast me…I get pissed.
Fuck
this. I won’t let it beat me. Goddamn it.
I might have to make concessions,
I might have to make excuses, I might have to lie through my teeth to everyone
I love but I won’t let it completely overcome me. I won’t let it destroy all
the happiness I can find in this life. This is my burden, I hate it, I damn it
to hell, and yet I’ll deal with it, even if it terrifies me to death because to
give in would be complete failure. I can’t let myself fail.

Finally class is over and I pick my way down the steps of
the lecture hall to ask the professor about meeting them at the Planetarium. He
seems surprised at first by the request, his bushy white eyebrows rising but
after a quick moment his answer is a positive yes, that as a commuter student I
can certainly meet them there. I let out a huge sigh of relief. Somehow I’m
always able to manage, just barely. I push my way out of the throng of students
into the weak November light. The day is overcast and I feel my spirits
plummet.
Will this ever go away? Do I have to deal with this shit for the
rest of my life?
Just then at my blackest point of the day, my phone begins
to vibrate in my backpack. I scramble to pull it out and hit the accept button.

 “Hello?” I say with a huge smile because the number, one
that I had already programmed into my phone just flashed across the screen.
Jared.
Holy shit!

“Hi, Vicky,” he says and I can tell he’s smiling.

“Hi,” I say, rather more enthusiastically than I would have
liked. “How are you?” I hold my breath, overcome that he is finally calling me,
that maybe he’s interested.
Let him ask me out!

“I’m good,” he replies, “I was wondering if you’d like to
get lunch with me today?” I smile again, unable to hold back the huge
overpowering grin that’s covering my face. I stop though and try to straighten
it out so it won’t transfer through the phone.

“Well, I dunno, let me just check my busy, busy schedule and
see if I can pencil that in,” I tease, trying not to act too excited. “Hmmmm….yes,
it seems that I could make that work with a minimum shuffling of other
appointments. Where would this lunch take place?” I ask.

“How about we meet at Biddy’s at 12:45? Does that work for
you, you busy girl?”

“Yeah, I think I can make it,” I say, elated that he is
asking me to lunch, just the two of us.

“See you then,” he replies, hanging up the phone after my
response. I have one more class to attend and then I’ll meet him for lunch. I’m
so fricken excited and nervous that I can’t sit still or pay attention during
my next class. Again, I’m oscillating between panic at being alone with Jared
and the possibility of embarrassing myself and a happiness and excitement so
intense that I swear I will not let my panic ruin this for me.

Finally class is over and I’m ready to walk to Jenkins Court
to meet Jared. It’s a 10 minute walk down the brick sidewalk toward the small
downtown area, and my thoughts are swirling.
What will we talk about? What
if I get nervous? Do I look okay? I wish I wasn’t wearing this damn shirt. I’m
glad I wore these tight jeans though.
On and on the thoughts go…partly
nervous and partly excited, my stomach fluttering, never able to focus on any
one thing for long. He’s waiting in front of the brick building when I arrive,
wearing a pair of dark jeans and a grey sweater.

“Hey,” he greets me with a smile, drawing me into the
restaurant. Biddy’s is a new favorite campus hangout, and is actually kinda
classy with dark low-lit booths with high sides that gave the maximum amount of
privacy. There aren’t many people around and Jared and I nab a sweet booth
toward the back of the restaurant with a window facing the picturesque little
downtown.

“So, Vicky, what do you want to eat?” he asks, rising one
eyebrow at me quizzically.

 “I have no idea,” I reply, studying the exceptionally full
menu, “This is only my second time at this restaurant.” The menu is primarily
Italian food and boasts salads, subs, and pizza.

“Hey I’m going to order a beer, you want to share it?” he
asks.

 “Yeah sure,” I reply, happy that’s he’s over 21 and that I
can piggy back on the nice calming beer feelings.
Thank God for small
favors.

“How the heck old are you, anyway,” I finally asking,
looking up from the menu for a moment, “are you a senior?”

“Oh, Victoria,” he states, looking at me with a withering
teasing expression. “I’m a junior. I took a year off and I just turned 21. Andy’s
a junior too. Normally I’d be a year ahead, but since I took a year off, the
little twerp is in the same class as me.”

I smile at this comment, because the brotherly love is so
adorable, and then the waitress appears to take our order. After she leaves
Jared leans back comfortably in the booth studying me.

“Yes?” I ask, watching him watch me, amused and scared at
the same time, not sure what to say, not sure what we’ll talk about. The
thought of me running away from him at the frat flashes through my mind and I
feel my cheeks grow hot. Finally he speaks and I’m drawn to the outside of my head.

“I was just thinking that we should get to know each other,”
he says, “You know, a little 20 questions.”

“Really?” I ask, lifting an eyebrow at his idea. “That
sounds interesting, what are the ground rules?”

“Well, I think we should be allowed to ask any question, but
we must also answer our own question too or else it wouldn’t be fair.”

“I agree to your rules. Are you gonna start?” I ask as his
beer arrives. As soon as the waitress leaves, I grab it for the first sip,
feeling bold, grinning at him. He smiles back, then gazes out the window
forming his first question.

“What’s your middle name?” he asks.
Ha, not this question
.
My middle name is an embarrassment. I sigh dramatically.

“You prying bastard, you had to ask, that’s like
the most
personal question.” He rolls his eyes and I laugh and then finally give up the
goods.

“Louise, okay? It’s ridiculous.”

“Louise, huh!” he chuckles, trying to give me shit. “Kinda
old fashioned, eh?”

“Yeah it was my grandmother’s name, so my mom wanted to
incorporate it into my name.”

 “Maybe I’ll start to call you Vicky-Lou!” he teases, taking
a sip of his beer.