Presley

 

Today was hard. Between classes, Barrett, and Jodi, I feel like I’m stretched pretty thin most days. My fieldwork, even though it’s work, is the one place that feels easy. Most days it’s that little break from life that keeps me going. Proves to me that all my hard work is for something, and will eventually lead to this. But just like any other job, there are bad days. The hardest challenges tend to be the most rewarding. Most days I see breakthroughs, even if they are small they are still there. I think because of that the days I hit a wall leave me feeling utterly useless and defeated.

I almost broke down today in the D.H.H. class. I was working with the junior highers, which in itself is a hard age. But one of the girls has a major chip on her shoulder and for some reason doesn’t like me. She’s always the first to point out how horrible my signing is. Even though I’ve been practicing every chance I get and the other kids seem to understand me, she refuses to watch me when I sign to her and will only watch her interpreter. Today she told me through her interpreter that they are deaf, which means that music means nothing to them, and therefore I mean nothing to them, and maybe I should save myself time and go find another job. I almost broke down right then and there.

I’ve been introducing them to vibrations and low sounds. I’ve brought drums, balloons to help feel the vibrations, and floor speakers, and I thought I could make a difference, but sometimes all it takes is one person to shoot your confidence and everything you think you know all to hell. I somehow made it out of there with what little dignity I had left and to my car before I broke into tears. I almost picked up my phone to text Barrett, but I was so worried that he’d agree with her, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Plus it’s been almost a week since I’ve heard from him, and I’m pretty sure he’s going back to school soon, so he’s most likely busy.

Instead of calling Jodi or Zeek to cheer me up, I decided to sit in my car and cry. Sometimes a good cry is all you need to cleanse you of negativity. I like to think of it as a way to purge whatever I am feeling at the moment. Hurt, inadequacy, anger. Whatever that negative emotion is, my tears wash them all away. It usually makes me feel better, but today I just feel worse. The last thing I feel like doing is going back to my room for Musical Monday. So that’s how I found myself at Empresso, an old theater that was turned into a coffee house. It’s the perfect place to sip a latte and feel sorry for myself.

“Presley, right?” I look up to the smiling face of the hallway sleeper.

“Oh hi. It’s Christian, right? Sorry, I’m a bit off today. Would you like to join me?” I motion to the empty chair.

“That sounds great. I was just going to grab a coffee before I head to the library to study, but I much rather enjoy your company for a bit. One second while I get a coffee.”

“Sure.” Part of me thinks I should pull out a mirror and try and fix myself up a bit before he comes back, but my more logical side says why bother, so I decide to sip my drink to try to perk myself up a bit.

“Sorry about that. So what’s going on? You look sad.” Just the mention of being sad has me wanting to burst into tears again. Gah, stupid emotions. “Hey, are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” This guy I don’t even know comes around the table to my side and brings me into a hug. Someone with a little more self-respect would have sucked it up and laughed it off, but I’ve seen this guy sleeping in the hallway, so I just accept his hug and cry all over his nice jacket.

“Is everything okay?” He looks worried, which causes me to nervously laugh. He’s probably expecting a dead relative or beloved pet or something with the way I’ve carried on.

“Everything is fine. I’m so sorry, Christian. The truth is I’m just an emotional mess. I had a really hard day at work today and it has me questioning if coming here was the right thing to do. I’m sure it will pass. Sorry for crying all over you.”

“You can cry on me anytime. My grandpa Clarence has this saying, ‘It’s called work for a reason. If it’s not hard, you aren’t doing it right,’” he says in what I’m assuming is his gruff old man voice. But it has the desired effect, because I can’t help but laugh along with him.

“Thanks, Christian, I needed that.”

He goes and buys me another coffee but this time it’s his pick, a ‘Chunky Monkey,’ which is pretty much just chocolate, peanut butter, and banana heaven. After a few sips I lay it all on him. Going against my parents’ wishes, choosing to pursue my dream, and then all about working with the kids.

“I think when you find a job you’re passionate about, it brings out heavy emotions. If it didn’t, I don’t think it’s the right job. You’re passionate about the kids and what you do, which is what’s going to make you a great therapist. But it’s a double-edged sword. You need to be able to connect without getting so attached that your happiness doesn’t only come from theirs.”

“Wow, that was pretty good. Maybe you should become a therapist.” He chuckles at that and lifts his eyebrow.

“Psychology major?”

“Yep, second year.”

“I have a feeling you chose wisely.”

We exchange numbers and promise to meet up for more than just midnight hallway run-ins and blubbering coffee sessions. I walk away feeling lighter for the first time all day.

 

 

“Pres, that’s the fourth time she’s called, don’t you think you should answer it?”

“No, I do not. I can’t handle her today.”

“It doesn’t seem like you can handle her any day.” I shoot her a glaring look and she chuckles. My phone rings once again and she groans. “Presley, contrary to what you think, I actually do study, and engineering isn’t a walk in the park. Answer the freaking phone or I will.”

I don’t answer the phone, instead I put it on vibrate and toss it on my nightstand, which was a horrible mistake because the instant it vibrates, Jodi flies off her bed and has my phone up to her ear before I can blink.

“Hi, Mrs. Sinclair, this is Jodi. I’m Presley’s roommate.” I try to grab the phone from her, but she’s a woman on a mission, and bats my hand away.

“She’s in the shower at the moment, but can I take a message? Oh, really.” She looks at me with pure evil intentions and I know this can’t be good. “Oh, Presley is going to be thrilled. It’s all she’s talked about all week. I’ll be sure to let her know. Have a fabulous evening.”

“Are you freaking kidding me right now? Jodi!”

“I warned you.” She tosses me my phone and goes back to her studying.

“Well? What did she say?”

“You are all booked for Christmas. Oh, and the acceptable colors to wear are red, gold, or white. Not silver, because it will clash with the décor. Is this lady for real?” I groan and throw myself on my bed.

“Unfortunately. I can’t believe she’d book me a flight after I told her I didn’t think I could make it.” That’s not true, I can totally believe it.

“Not just you, sweet cheeks. You might want to text Barrett and tell him about the color scheme thing.”

“Excuse me?” I shriek in horror.

“Oh, did I not mention that? She booked three first class tickets.” Jodi doesn’t even try to hide her amusement.

“I’m going to kill her!” I grab my phone and take it into the hallway, leaving nothing but Jodi’s laughter in my wake.

It’s no use. I tried everything, and there was no getting out of it. All that’s left now is to swallow any dignity and pride I have left and go over and explain to Barrett and Randy that I have now highjacked their holiday. Oh Lord, he’s going to think I’ve gone completely single white female on him. Even from thousands of miles away, my mother has managed to completely sabotage my life!