Depress Yourself

"Never thought I’d be up again at this time." I mumbled sleepily to myself as I leaned over and punched down on my alarm clock. Sliding up to a sitting position in bed, I rubbed my eyes and looked over at the alarm clock, smiling tightly at the 5:10 that reflected brightly at me. Stretching my arms slowly over my head, I groaned at the stiffness in my elbows as they cracked loudly in the silence of my room.

"Not like I’d get much done sitting around in bed all morning." I threw back my blankets and swung my feet onto the floor, feeling the soft texture of my carpet between my bare toes. Reaching to the nightstand near my bed, I grabbed my glass off it and switched on the light, blinking a few times to clear my sight. After throwing on a pair of comfortable sweats and a t-shirt, I shoved my feet into a pair of clean white socks and my tennis shoes.

Does everything I own have to be worn out? I glanced down at the hole in the heel of my left shoe as I put it on. The rubber lining along the bottom of both shoes looked like I could peel if off with one stroke of my hand. With a soft sigh, I stood up and tip-toed out of my room and downstairs, then closed the front door behind me with a click.

Even though summer was supposedly nearly upon us, I wasn’t prepared for the cool wind that pressed against my cheeks as I stepped outside. Suddenly I wished I had something other than just a tshirt covering my arms and shivered slightly.

You’ll just have to warm up faster, I thought to myself, pushing off the last front step with a bounce to motivate myself a little. Breaking into a brisk jog, I headed down our sidewalk and headed into the street. Fortunately, there wasn’t anyone else as mental as me to be up this early, so I had the whole neighborhood to myself. Not that I’d last very long, running was not my best form of exercise.

But it’ll be quicker to burn off the six pounds, I thought as my feet padded lightly against the asphault of our street.

After all, that’s what all those brochures were more than nice to inform me of. I tried to remember where they’d gotten buried since Mom had given me all of them.

Mom.. As thoughts of yesterday’s conversation entered my head, I grimaced slightly and found myself running a little harder. Hey, anything to get the weight off.

"Where were you this morning?" My recently favorite (this would be sarcasm) family member inquired when I returned home.

"I went upstairs to wake you and was a little surprised when I found out you weren’t there." Mom continued.

"I went for a quick jog," I said breathlessly, my feet pounding on the stairs as I went up. Before a quick shower, I went through my daily ritual of weighing myself, sighing at the fact I hadn’t taken any more weight off.

Goes to show how much help running two miles is, I rolled my eyes at the thought. Now more than ever did I want to send those brochures to a self-induced, firery grave. It’d taken me nearly thirty-five minutes to jog that distance, only to return panting and extremely sweaty at my front door.

All that work for two hundred damn calories. I stepped off the scale and into the shower. A few minutes later, I found myself flying out the front door and hopping on my bike to get to school. Another few minutes later, I found myself again sweaty and out of breathe, this time standing in front of my homeroom classroom.

"What happened to you?" My friend, the only friend, in the class asked me as I slid into my seat, hoping my face wasn’t too red as I glanced at Sandra.

"Oh nothing," I replied with an amused smile. "Just a normal morning."

later that afternoon..

"Oh my.. wow." I stared in awe around the store. I continued to do so after the door clicked shut behind me.

"I knew you'd like it." Zac nudged me in the side.

"It's beautiful!" I replied in a hushed whisper.

"Well, we certainly can't find anything here with you just standing and gawking with your mouth wide open." He nudged me again, this time a little harder.

"Sorry." I finally found my feet and took a few steps down the center aisle. My eyes first took in what looked like an endless, rainbow sea of colored jerseys, with each mascot imaginable across their fronts. In front of me on the right, just beyond the jerseys, was a wall completely covered with skates - there had to be at least a hundred of them there, line after line.

At least I don't need any of those, I thought with relief. Across the aisle sat a long, rectangular count with a register sitting on it. As we passed it, I squatted down in front of its impressive display of autographed hockey pucks and pressed all ten of my fingertips against the glass like a kid in a candy store. I almost felt the saliva building beneath my tongue.

"We're not getting anywhere with you sitting in the middle of the aisle." I heard Zac sigh above me.

"And besides..." He whispered hoarsely. "You're underwear's showing!"

"Oops." I laughed, standing up and tugging up my jeans. "What's the big deal? You've seen me in my underwear before."

"We were five," he replied tightly. "It's.. different now."

"How so?" I started to ask when a sales clerk interrupted us. Zac looked a little relieved at his entrance. I on the other hand, wasn't impressed. The stocky, red-haired freak had just as many freckles as me, but the same number of zits across his face to match. The black and white vertical strips in his work uniform were very unflattering to his figure, to put it mildly.

"Can I help you with anything?" At least he was polite.

"Yeah." Zac nodded, answering for me. "We need to look at goalie equipment."

"Follow me." I watched the guys' eyes practically light up with dollar signs as I trailed behind him, Zac stepping on my heels as the three of us walked like a row of penguins, one after another, down a smaller aisle whose walls were littered with padding.

"Cut that out!" I glared at Zac over my shoulder. He smiled innocently.

"Now, here we have a standard padding set." The kid removed a shiny, white set of padding and held it out to me. "Women's plus size."

Did he say plus size? I stared at the guy for a moment, my cheeks turning pink. He's one to talk!

"She doesn't need padding that large. Get a regular size." Zac snapped for me. I threw him a grateful smile behind the clerk's back as he replaced the padding with a smaller size. I took it from him and opened the bag.

"Is it all right if I try it on?" Not wanting to wrestle with it in front of the jerk, I added. "I think we're fine to look on our own now, thanks."

"B-be my guest, Ma'am. Helmets are the next aisle over." He stuttered, pointing to his left. "I'll be at the register if you need anymore help."

"Thanks.." Zac nodded at him and held his next word until the guy had waddled out of sight. "Jerk."

"Aww, come on." I grinned at Zac as I removed the padding and handed the bag to him. "I was hoping to ask him to prom."

"Geez, I hope you're kidding." He snatched the bag from me as I slipped my head into the shoulder padding. It slipped loosely around my neck and rested comfortably over my shoulders.

"Hey, this actually fits pretty well." I smiled, adjusting it slightly. "And doesn't reek like a dead animal like the set some certain person, ahem, loaned me."

"Sounds like someone else is a little ungrateful." Zac quickly replied.

"Seriously, I really do appreciate your help." I smiled and slipped the padding back off.

"Not a problem."

"After all, I wouldn't have the chance to try on.. A hundred thirty dollar padding!?" My voice squeaked when I caught first sight of the price tag.

"That's not a bad price." Zac murmured.

"Yeah, if I want Mom to put me six feet under." I sighed and put the padding back into the bag and hung it back on the shelf.

"You aren't getting it?" My best friend asked me incredulously.

"With what money?" I replied softly. I hoped my face wasn't as crestfallen as my hopes felt.

"Just ask for it as a birthday present." Zac suggested. "It's coming up, isn't it?"

"You remembered?" I asked him with surprise in my voice.

"Of course."

"Let me just say I'll be surprised if my own parents do." Sensing the tension in my voice, he let the subject drop. Sort of.

"Don't you have money from work?" Shifting his weight, Zac stuffed his hands into his jean pockets.

"Actually.." I frowned. "I don't think I've been paid yet for work since I've been there! Except for the quarter tips from waitressing. I'll talk to Jamie Wednesday when I work next... oh no." I groaned.

"What?"

"Wednesday's too late! I need to have my new equipment by then." I sighed, remembering Anne's suggestion from the other day.

"Bummer." Zac replied. "I could put in on my parent's credit card."

"This isn't exactly an emergency." I eyed him, enviously remembering the day his parents gave it to him. Must be nice to have your parents actually trust you.

"It could be.."

"Zac, I couldn't ask you to do that. End of story."

"All right, it was just an offer." He threw up his hands, indicating he was giving up. "Do you want to at least look around at the other stuff you needed?"

"Sure." I replied sullenly. "I could stand to depress myself a little more."

"I think I'm cursed." I growled from behind a flawless goalie mask.

"Is it stuck?" Zac asked, his shoulders bouncing with laughter.

"No, even worse." I replied. "It fits perfectly."

"We can't have that now. Take it off." He rolled his eyes.

"This is such a nice helmet," I remarked, removing it from my hair and flattening down the strands I felt building up static. The gray plastic covering the helmet's surface was flawless: no chips, marks, or dents of any kind; I saw only beams of light that reflected off it. I ran my fingers over the cage once more before setting the helmet back on its rack.

"I think I'm ready to leave." I counted off on my fingers. "Inside padding, outside padding, gloves, stick, and helmet all tried on. I can't take any more of this torture."

"I'm sure my cruddy equipment will last through another season." Zac padded my shoulder as we exited the store.

"It'll have to," I replied. "That is, if I can still use it."

"Sure. It's not like I need it anymore." The door swung shut behind us.

"Are you a forward yet?" I asked him, squinting into the bright sunlight.

"Peters is telling me tonight at practice. I think I've got a chance."

"How's the skating holding up?" I asked with a snicker. "Did the ballet lessons help?"

"Umm.. they did at first." Zac's face turned crimson as he remembered how his so-called 'private lessons' had slowly turned into make-out sessions with Samantha.

"Forget it." I replied with a wave of my hand, seeing the look on his face. "I don't even want to know."

"Have you studied for the Calc test tomorrow?" He quickly changed the subject. I stopped quick in my tracks and stared at him.

"We have a test tomorrow?" I asked incredulously. He nodded.

"Over the last four chapters."

"Oh, shit." I closed my eyes. Suddenly, this afternoon off work was cut completely short.

"I'm guessing that's a no on the studying, huh?" Zac laughed.

"Obviously." I groaned. "Four chapters? I'm so far behind in that class.. I'm dead. If you bury me now, you can keep my stereo."

"I'd help you out, but I have practice in half an hour." He offered. "And besides, your stereo's crappy."

"Maybe Coach'd let me skip practice just this once.." I considered the option. "Not a chance. What are you doing after ten?"

"Studying.." Zac answered uncomfortably.

"Can you help me then?"

".. with Samantha." He finished.

"Oh." I suddenly felt his discomfort. I'd forgotten she was in the class.

"I don't have to be there until quarter to ten." Zac replied. "Just call in sick to practice."

"I can't do that." I frowned at him.

"Then I'll do it.. I'll pretend to be your Dad."

"You think it'll work?" I asked him, seriously doubting his not-so-ingenuous plan. It seemed too spontaneous to work.

"Sure. I'll just say you've been puking all afternoon or something." I stared at Zac before sending him a tight smile.

You don't know how close you are to the truth.

"Thanks for everything, Zac!" I called behind me as I walked down the sidewalk from his house.

"Hey, it helped me study too." He replied. "Good luck with the last chapter."

"Thanks.. Tell your Mom that too." Not only had he helped me struggle through the first chapters, which I actually understood fairly well by now, but Zac's mom had also insisted I stay for dinner. She'd made the best lasagna I'd had in awhile, although I was starting to feel the effects of my second helping now, as I climbed onto my bike.

"I will. Later." I heard Zac's voice behind me as I rode down the Hansons' driveway and into the street. I didn't get twenty feet until I nearly fell over from nausea. Yanking the handlebars back to their upright position, I continued the ride back to my house slowly. For once, I couldn't wait to exercise.

Anything to get all this food off of me.

"Heads up, Kiddo." I glanced up from my calculus book to see a hockey puck whirling at my head. With a grin, I dropped the pencil in my right hand to catch it. Flicking my wrist, I sent it back to my dad, the culprit I saw standing in my doorway.

"What's up?" I asked him.

"Want to catch the game?" Although an innocent question, I cocked my head at the added amount of friendliness in his voice.

Dad, you're too predictable. It was his manner to be sincere toward me or Heidi after arguments with Mom. I smiled with amusement at his attempt to make things up to me. But as I caught sight of my calculus book out of the corner of my eye, my smile disappeared.

"Who's playing?" I glanced back up at Dad.

"Detroit and Los Angelos for Round One. Ozzie's starting too." He replied with a grin, knowing how much I loved the Wings, particularly their goalie.

"Round One??" I echoed.

I didn't even know the regular season ended!

"Why is Detroit playing them?"

"Because they're the fourth and fifth seeds."

"Oh... Who got first in the west?"

"St. Louis."

"Aww, crap.." I made a face at his response. "Who's eighth seed?"

"San Jose." Dad grinned; he loved the Sharks. I think he'd move our family into the 'Shark Tank' if given the opportunity.

"Well, St. Louis will kill them off quickly." I sighed.

Maybe David's hockey predictions will come true. I felt a tiny itch crawling into my stomach, the urge to drop all my homework and cheer my heart out for my favorite team. Then I remembered our Calc exam tomorrow afternoon.

Well, that decides that.

"I'd love to, but I can't." I gave him an apologetic smile. "I have a test tomorrow."

"Are you sure?" Dad didn't hide the disappointment in his voice. I felt horrible watching his smile fade.

This is probably the only time he'll try to make things up to you, I realized. Noting the time on my watch, I replied,

"First period only."

"Then what are you waiting for?" Dad asked, his grin back. "Game started five minutes ago."

"All right, I'm coming!" Jumping out of my seat, I scurried to grab my homework and notes off my desk.

Maybe I can do them during the commercials or something..

"Go Ozzie!!!" I screamed at the top of my lungs as I watched my favorite Red Wing in action. He made the job look incredibly simple, making another great save in the third period.

"The first game of Round One and he might actually get a shut-out." Dad grinned at my excitement.

"That's so awesom- Oh, shoot." Glancing down at the floor, where my Calculus notes had fallen after the first minute of the first period. They had sat there two and a half hours.

"Dad, I've got to go study."

"I guess I can let you go this time."

"Thanks." I rolled my eyes. "Can you wake me up thirty minutes earlier tomorrow? Just so I can be awake for my exam."

"All right, kiddo." He nodded. "Thanks for catching most of the game with me."

"Thanks for the invitation. And the popcorn." I returned his smile, collected my books, and retreated back into my cave of a bedroom to study. After throwing my stuff down and cracking open my books, I just couldn't focus. My stomach twinged with being full.

That must be what's bothering me. I realized, pushing my chair back and heading into the bathroom to take care of that problem. After washing another mess down the sink, I brushed my teeth clean and headed back into my room.

"All right.. Focus now, Linds." I propped my head on my elbows and started reading the final chapter for Calculus. Funny enough, as I read, things actually felt like they were falling into place again. At least a little - and hey, that was definently better than before.

"Zac? Come here, I need to speak with you." His mother called to him from her seat in the living room as he quietly closed the door behind him. He quickly whirled around on his heels to face her, a look of guilt written across his face.

"Sorry, Mom. I know I'm a few minutes late." He quickly replied. "I swear, we were studying the whole time."

"While twenty isn't exactly a few, that's not what I need to talk to you about." She guestured to a seat near hers. "Plunk it."

"Okaaay.. Whatever it was, I didn't break it then." Zac obligued, tossing his backpack onto the floor near his feet as he sat down.

"Nothing was broken." He relaxed as the corners of his mother's lips turned upward in an amused smile. "I need to talk to you about Lindsey."

"Isn't it great that she's back?" Zac smiled brightly. "I didn't expect to miss her so much, but it's almost like old times again."

Or old times with a cranky girlfriend, he added in his head. Still not quite sure how to word it to her, he still hadn't informed Samantha that he and I were on speaking terms again. That's a delicate definition: while Zac and I certainly enjoyed each other's company, there were several issues we'd refrained from discussing, for obvious reasons. My weight was another.

"I'm glad you resolved your differences and it's great to have her around again." Diana's smile hardened as she continued. "But haven't you noticed how.. different she looks?"

"You mean skinny? I think she looks great." He replied defensively.

"I agree but she lost so much so quickly." His mother explained. "That doesn't happen very often."

"Well, even with hockey she's moving about ten times more than she used to. That alone would make anyone loose a few pounds here and there."

"Zac." She eyed him. "She's lost more than a few pounds, if you haven't noticed. Maybe it's because I haven't seen her in weeks, but I just wanted to ask if everything's ok."

"I guess." He shrugged his shoulders and gave her an apologetic look. "She's made it silently clear that she doesn't want to bring up that subject with me."

"Is it her or you that doesn't want to bring it up?" Zac looked up at his mother with a bit of discomfort in his eyes at that statement. He shrugged again.

"It's her business. I can't do anything about it."

"Maybe you should." Diana murmured so softly Zac strained and still didn't quite hear her.

"What?"

"Nothing. Just overly concerned, as usual." Seeing the conversation wasn't heading anywhere, she forced a smile at Zac.

"Just because you're our Super Mom doesn't mean you have to be everyone's." He smiled, stood up, and gave her a small hug before retreating to his bedroom. "I've got to get some sleep before my exam."

"Good luck." Diana nodded. Just before Zac hit the top of the stairs, she added,

"Tell Lindsey I say good luck too."

In more ways than one, she thought wistfully, watching Zac's figure retreat until it dissappeared from her sight. It would be several minutes of silent thinking before she herself could make it to sleep though.