Free Spiraling by H. Karhoff

I’d been so distracted that I’d barely touched anything on my tray. My stomach waged its protest as I tossed what should have been enough to keep it happy in the trash.
    “I was thinking I could pick you up early tomorrow and we could get some dinner before we go,” Chad said as we walked out of the cafeteria.
    “Go where?” I asked.
    “Bowling.”
    “We’re going bowling? I thought we were going to the mall or something.”
    “Everybody decided we were going bowling instead.”
    “I don’t really want to go bowling.”
    “You should have said something then. We all talked about it.”
    “You didn’t talk to me about it.”
    “I tried, but you were off in a different world, as usual.”
    “I don’t like bowling.”
    “You could sit and watch.”
    “Yeah, that sounds like fun.” I sighed.
    “What do you want, Tori? We already made plans. I’m not going to tell everybody we have to change them just because you don’t like bowling.”
    “Then don’t. Just go without me. In fact, you can go to everything without me from now on.” I didn’t realize what I said until the words were out of my mouth. Once they were, however, I didn’t want to take them back.
    “Seriously? You’re breaking up with me because you don’t like bowling?”
    “No.” I shook my head. “I’m breaking up with you because I don’t like you .”
    “I don’t like you either,” he said.
    “Fine, then. I guess that’s it.”
    “I guess it is.”
    As I continued down the hall without him, I felt like a boulder had rolled off my back. It was a relief to be rid of Chad. For the first time in months, I wasn’t dreading my weekend. Even if all I did was sit at home and do homework, it would be my choice. I was tired of being dragged around without any concern for what I wanted.
     
     
     
    Having nothing to do became much less appealing after a few weeks. I’d lost most of my friends in the break-up and Joy rarely did anything outside of school and youth group. I was so bored that when Mom asked if I wanted to go to the grocery store with her, I jumped at the opportunity.
    As we perused the aisles, Mom tried to connect with me by asking about my life, but she couldn’t overcome the impulse to lecture. After I admitted that I was bummed out about my social life, she gave me a speech about how I had plenty of time to worry about boys and parties after college. I folded my arms across my chest and grumbled something at her about being out of touch with reality.
    “You’d better watch your attitude, young lady,” she scolded.
    “Whatever.” I rolled my eyes. “Can I just go wait in the car?”
    “No. We’re spending time together. We never spend time together anymore.”
    “I can’t imagine why,” I said under my breath.
    When we got to the register, I was relieved the experience was almost over. Even though I’d stopped talking, Mom hadn’t. She continued to lecture me about my priorities. According to her, they were all wrong. She told me I needed to focus more on important things like school and college at least a dozen times. I finally agreed with her just to get her to shut up, but she found a new reason to complain: I wasn’t stacking the groceries on the conveyor belt properly.
    “It doesn’t matter, Mom,” I said.
    “Yes, it does, Tori,” she insisted. “There’s a way to do things.”
    “Fine. Then you do it.” I rolled my eyes and turned around.
    When I did, I wasn’t all that surprised to see Devon standing at the end of the counter bagging the groceries. It was just my luck that he would happen to be working at the grocery store and be there at exactly the right moment to witness my mother’s compulsive nagging. Now, I had something new to add to my list of reasons my life sucked.
    “Hey,” he said.
    “Hi,” I replied nervously.
    He looked different in the dark green button-up shirt and black tie the male grocery store employees wore. His face was clean-shaven and his hair was combed