"We're all a little weird. And life is a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness - and call it love - true love." (Robert Fulghum)
Moving...
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With Zayden and Hale hot on my heels, I practically run to my room, eager to add one more reason to the "our parents hate us" list. The "do not enter" sign I purchased with my own money from a small shop is gone. A promising start. I burst into the room, the door slamming into the wall due to the lack of a stop, which I'm sure I had. Already two things are missing, let's see what number I get to. The bed, the furniture, the desk are all in place, so I don't notice at first any other differences from how my room looked before I left. I never stuck posters on the walls, because my mother wouldn't let me, saying that when you take them off the glue leaves marks on the wall. Hale was a little luckier because he doesn't listen to them the way I do, and our parents are convinced that arguing with him would be futile. Although I could have followed his example and misbehave, I thought that otherwise I would have diminished my chances of receiving their gratitude, which proved impossible to me anyway.
Generally, I transferred everything of value to my phone, for example, I keep track of the books I've read on an app called Goodreads, so I don't need to see them in front of my eyes. I've never owned collector's editions because I didn't have enough money saved up to afford them, although I plan to get a few soon. It wouldn't be too much of a loss if my books were gone, I'm not the type of person who necessarily wants to have them physically like Luke does. As to clothes, I should be surprised if they were out of place, for one of the reasons for our coming here is to leave a good part of our autumn clothing here and replace them with very thick sweatshirts and jackets. I didn't have time to go back home until this vacation, and when an opportunity did arise I preferred to stay with Nevin. I was in no rush to see Haddonfield again.
Still, the memories keep me tied to this place, so I run to my desk, trying to remember exactly where I hid my journals that I used to write in before I got my first touchscreen phone. I pull at the drawers in desperation, feeling almost the same rage burning inside me that characterized Hale earlier, hoping that the same thing would not happen to my most valuable possessions. I ignore the two boys who are not giving me any space, both of them curious beyond measure, but at the moment I don't care if they find out that I used to have intimate journals, in which I wrote down my opinion about each colleague, my redundant and insignificant activities and my school situation down to the smallest detail. I re-read a few pages before hiding them in my desk drawers under piles of pens and pencils, and my opinion was that while they're terrible, but they're a source of memories I'm not ready to part with yet. I find both of them stacked one on top of the other in plain sight in the bottom drawer, a sign that someone found them, someone other than me. I don't have confidential information written there or that should be kept out of parental view, as far as I can remember, but the invasion of privacy still doesn't sit well with me. Although I seem to remember venting my anger on my parents' distance on those pages.
When he sees that sigh of relief I take, Hale stands up, snorting and storming off. Zayden doesn't move though, sitting cross-legged on the fluffy pink carpet I hadn't noticed before. I frown slightly at the rug, then at Zayden, glancing at him asking silently why he didn't follow Hale out.
