Clever Girl

Chapter 8 : Please don't take it personal.

Doctor Manning advised that my mother needed better care, that it wasn't something I could provide.

All the books I've read, all the lists of conditions, of medicine, of neurological disorders and biological illnesses, have done nothing to help. Manning said it is most likely Balo's Disease, a rare variant of multiple sclerosis, but it can't be confirmed without an MRI. A problem, since my mother still refuses to go to a hospital. 

If it really is Balo's Disease, it would explain every symptom. Then again, it'll mean that she might not have multiple sclerosis, and that she was misdiagnosed years ago. Either way, we can't afford full treatment. And now, we can't afford more tests even if she agrees to them. How can you help someone who's deteriorating right in front of your eyes, when you don't have the means?

Even if I quit school and tutor full-time, and go over all of our expenses and cut everything from Matty's extra curricular classes, to our grocery budget for every week, to every bare necessity we have, we won't be able to have the proper tests done. 

How is any of this fair?

How am I supposed to explain it all to my father? To Matty?

But it's pretty clear that at the moment, quitting school is my only option. I can get other part-times jobs on top of tutoring. It may not be enough, but I can save up and maybe be able to pay for everything over time. Manning did mention government assisted plans, payment options and other choices that would work better given our financial situation. 

As I walk through the halls of Apollo, I wonder if I even need to tell Cranston about my decision. I'm turning eighteen next week, and after that they have zero hold over me. I'd have every right to stop showing up to school. In the meantime, I can study up on Balo's disease more, and also skate by my classes as I always have been. I won't even have to worry about Jay exposing my secret. After next week it won't even matter. 

"Hey look, there's the idiot," Stella, the leader of the vultures, says as I walk past their crowd. "On your way to the Dumb Fuck convention?"

"No," I reply, stopping to face them. "I'm actually about to abscond from this God-forsaken place. I've come to realize that the student body is comprised of shortsighted, decrepit assholes, and I no longer want any part of it."

Stella lets out a nasty chuckle, "The idiot learned how to use a thesaurus. How cute. Did Jay help you with that? Or are you no longer his charity case?"

I step back and walk away, not bothering to retort. I can hear them all laughing at me as I round a corner, and I can't help but wonder why Jay is even friends with them. Sure, he's awful, but he's not that awful.

"Hey, Nowhere-Colorado!"

"Huh?" I say to the person who has just cut into my path. Thankfully I manage to not run into him. 

He points at himself, "Remember me? The guy with the black eye?"

"Oh.. right. Hi. Sorry," I say as I recall making up a couple of lies for him a few weeks ago, in Cranston's office. "I'm not really new, by the way."

"Yeah, I know. You're Veronica Boniadi. I had to think about it for a bit, but I remember you from eighth grade. You sat in front of me in History. Miss Sheir's class."

"I did?" How is it someone remembers me? I don't remember him, and I feel terrible about it. Such a thing has never happened to me before, so I stand there, a little awestruck, my mouth slightly open. 

He nods, then smiles, "You wanna get some lunch with me?"

"What?" Did he just ask me to hang out? Or is he part of Stella's vultures, and this is a setup? Or is he actually looking for a friend? My many years of carefully crafting a solitary existence has rendered me incapable of differentiating between certain social cues.