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Wrong Direction

Wrong Direction

“I haven’t always had long hair. Or looked like a hippie. People never used to stay away from me like I’m a disease. I used to be a popular guy with short, fluffy, hair. It also used to be brown; I bleached my hair because I wanted a big change.

“Sometimes I miss how I used to look. But that was before my parents were separated. When my mom was still alive. Before my dad just got up and left when she died.

“I guess I understand why he left, it’s not like I need him, I can take care of myself, but sometimes I miss him. I mean I’m 16 and my grandparents look after me, so it’s not like I don’t have anyone, but still.” The therapist looks at me like I’m crazy, and I realize I have been ranting to her for thirty minutes straight.

It’s my first session and I’m already scaring her. What the heck is wrong with me? I think to myself. “Uhh, soooo, yeah,” I say slowly and awkwardly.

She picks up her clipboard from her lap, holding it in her hand she says, “Well, I’m glad you could get that all off your chest. Normally the first session is me trying to get people to open up, not you I guess. You just went right for it,” she laughs to herself. “You don’t have any more time today, so I’ll see you next week.” 

I nod, stand from the couch and start to walk out. 

“Same time next week,” she says as I open the door. 

“Right, same time,” I mutter to myself.

My grandparents are waiting for me when I walk out of the building. I don’t have my driver’s license yet, but I do have my permit. They sometimes let me drive, but I don’t think they trust me enough to let me drive. I think it’s because of my parents, they think I’m mentally unstable. I guess that’s true, changing myself completely and having to go to therapy.

About 6:00 and we are still driving. Weird because I left my therapy session three hours ago. “Uhh, grandpa?”

“Yes, Mathew?” he responds.

“Where are we going? We’ve been driving for three hours. I thought we were going home.”

“Oh…uhh.” He looks at his wife, she nods. “We are going on a vacation, I think you need it right now. You know, after all that has happened.”

“Oh” was all I could get out. I slowly drift off into a deep sleep.

I wake up to my grandma shaking me. It’s dark and I’m still in the car. “Come on, let’s get you into the hotel.”

“Hotel?” I ask.

“Yah, we’re gonna stay here for the night til we find out which way it is to our vacation spot. We’re going to ask people for directions tomorrow after we have all gotten some sleep.” 

“Oh, ok,” I say, yawning.

“Are you hungry at all, I realize you never ate anything for dinner?”

“No, I can wait til breakfast in the morning.”

“Ok.”

My grandpa opens up the back of the car to pull out bags that I had no clue they even packed. My grandma helps me out of the car and we all walk up to the hotel doors. A doorman stands there and opens the door to let us in. 

Once we get checked in and up to our room I crash on the bed and fall quickly asleep. 

The next morning, I get dressed then walk into the bathroom. I don’t shut the door but just stare into the mirror. It feels like forever before my grandma comes into the bathroom. She slowly walks up from behind me and puts her hands on my shoulders, “You know, I really miss your old hair. And the way you used to dress and act before…your parents.” She stares at me through the mirror smiling.

“I guess you’re right. I do miss my old self.”

“Mathew-”

“Grandma, you should really call me by my nickname,” I interrupt.

She laughs, “Alright…Matt…things don’t have to be like this. Just because something bad happened in your past, it doesn’t mean you should or have to let it take over the present.” She smiles at me and walks out of the bathroom. “I’ll be in the car with your grandfather, take your time.”

I stare into the mirror again. Thinking deeply about what she said. She’s right, I shouldn’t let this control me. I pull out my phone, scroll through my gallery and pick a good picture that shows my hair, my old hair, very well. I shut my phone off and make my way down to the car. 

“Grandma, can we go to the barber before we eat please?”

She looks back at me, smiling my favorite smile of hers and says, “Of course.”

My grandpa looks at my grandma, she nods. Deja vu all over again, I think to myself.

About ten minutes goes by and we are at the barber shop. We all get out, this time without our bags, and walk into the shop. The doorbell rings as the door opens. Everyone, the workers and the customers all stop what they are doing to stare at us. Me. 

“Hi, can I help you?” A tall man with short, vanilla-blonde hair asks. 

“Yes actually, could you cut and color my grandson’s hair please?” My grandma asks.

“Sure,” the man replies.

I sit in the chair that he tells me to sit in and pull out the picture of me and my hair, off of my phone. 

“Wow, that’s some nice hair. Is that off of the internet or something?” The man asks. 

Geez so many questions. “No, that’s how I used to look, but a lot of stuff happened and I just wanted to change, but now I want to change back. If you can do that.” I say looking up at my grandma and smile before looking back at the big mirror in front of me.

“Yes, of course, I can make you look good again!” He replies excitedly.

“Thank you.”

A lot of cutting and coloring goes on. I swear it took two hours, at least it felt like it, before he was finished. Through the whole process I have my eyes closed. Once I finally open my eyes, I am shocked. I look exactly like I did before. “Thank you so much. It looks awesome.”

“You are so welcome.”

My grandpa pays the guy and we leave, “I think it’s time to get those old clothes, don’t you think Matt?” My grandma says.

“Great idea grandma.”

We drive to a place called Fashion Statement. “Are you sure they will have my clothes grandma?” 

“Yes, this is what the lady told us, right?”

“I don’t know, I’m thinking we took a wrong turn.”

“Maybe, but let’s check this place out first.”

“Alright.”

We walk in. Well I am very certain this is not the place. “Yeah, no.”

“Ok, how about you sit at that table while grandpa and I look around and see if we can find something a little less girly.” 

“K.”

I make my way over to the table and sit on the seat, pulling out my phone. I swear it’s been an hour already. Someone taps me on the shoulder. “Finally,” I mutter.

“Excuse me?” Someone asks, it sounds like a girls voice. I turn around, seeing a long-haired, brunette. Her extraordinary, emerald eyes stare into my light blue eyes.

“Uhh, I…” I start to say.

“Did you say something?” The girl asks.

“Uhh, no, well, yeah. I said ‘finally’, but I thought you were my grandparents.”

“Oh.”

“Did you need something?” I ask her, still twisting my head to look behind me, at her.

“Oh, well, I was just wondering if you needed anything. You’ve been sitting here for a while.”

“Yeah, I’m just waiting for my grandparents.”

“Oh ok. Well then I’ll just go then.”

“Ok…” she starts to walk away, but something inside of me makes me want to tell her to stop, “Wait, would you like to sit down?”

She turns around, this time I’m standing when she looks at me. “Uhh sure.”

She walks past me to sit in the seat across from where I sat. I sit back in my seat and stare awkwardly at the girl. “So, what’s your-”

A man yells from behind the counter, interrupting my question, “Abby!”

“Oh crap,” she says quietly. “Sorry, I have to get back to work.” We both jump up from our seats.

“Oh, ok…can I at least get your number before you?”

“Yeah, quick before I get yelled at again,” she laughs.

I grab my phone from the table and pull up the phone number pad. I give her my phone and it takes her about five seconds to type her number in. She gives it back, “Abby…that’s my name” she starts to walk away.

“Mathew is my name. You can call me Matt for short. If you like.”

She looks back, smiling. “Bye, Matt.” Then walks away.

“Bye, Abby.”

My grandparents walk over to me, “Well, that was sweet” my grandma says.

I smile, “Can we go home now?”

“Yeah, I actually found some clothes at a store around the corner. They are in the car already.”

“Wait, when did you do that?”

“When you were talking to that girl,” she laughs.

I laugh too. “Let’s go. I’m tired.”

We get into our car. “Oh and we also bought a GPS. So we don’t go in the wrong direction again,” my grandpa says.

“I’m not complaining,” I say and smile at him.

And we drive off.

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