Part of me wants to run down the hall right now after my mom and scratch her eyes out. I’m going to write until that part of me is silenced. That’s the part of me that is out of control, the part of me that must be contained. That’s the part of me that will cause me to lose it and go berserk, to stuff my face with anything it sees to make these feelings go away. I just got home from practice and passed Mom in the hall. Mom: Did you talk to Coach Perkins? Me: Yeah. Mom: Everything okay, sweetie? Me (Parmesan’s smile): Yep! Everything’s cool. Mom: Good. I love you so much. I left you a barbecue chicken breast and some mashed potatoes on the counter. Me: Thanks! I’m going to take a shower. Have a good night at work. The fact that she called Coach Perkins makes me want to throw things. I closed the door and listened for the garage to open and close behind her. Then I hit my bed with a pillow about twenty times. When Coach asked me to stay behind after practice, I saw Vanessa’s eyes shoot over at me, and I just knew she was hoping I was going to get into trouble.
