“I use Colgate Whitening. Only Colgate Whitening. I like the taste. This stuff is horrible. I won’t use it!” He was talking rapidly and I could barely keep up with him.
Then he threw the toothpaste across the room. I tried to talk to him. To tell him I’d go back and get him the right kind. But he hadn’t been listening. He had told me to leave him alone.
I wanted to argue with him. I wanted to scream at him to snap out of it. That it was only toothpaste!
But I knew it was useless. He had started rubbing his hands and pacing. He was way passed reasonable.
So I told him I’d be down stairs and then I had left the bedroom, closing the door and waited for him in the living room. I heard thumping above me but I stayed put. Murphy had jumped up on the couch beside me and rested his head in my lap. He was becoming used to Flynn’s fits. And while I had learned how best to deal with them, even if it was contrary to everything Iwantedto do, I could admit I wasn’t entirely sure I would everget usedto them.
Because his fits bothered me. They both scared me and made me angry. When he started yelling I wanted to yell back. I wanted to scream at him to stop it.
And then a part of me wanted to run away and never look back. The selfish side of me thought it was too much trouble. That Flynn was just too much for a girl like me to handle. A girl with limited coping skills of her own who was only now learning how to do something other than make shitty choices.
But then I would remember how many times I had been made to feel like I wasn’t worth the effort. Every time I was packed up and shipped off to a new foster home I knew it was because no one could deal with me. That these people I thought could love me, in reality didn’t care enough to put forth the effort.
I wouldn’t do that to Flynn. Because he was most definitely worth it. He was worth everything.
Because Flynn Hendrick had taught me how to feel. He had taught me how to live.
He had taught me how to love.
When Flynn had quieted down, I had walked back up the stairs and slowly opened the door to find Flynn sitting on his bed.
He wouldn’t look at me.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered.
“It’s okay,” I said. I went over to him and pulled out the list he had made.
“Let’s go over this again, all right, and then I’ll go and get some new toothpaste,” I told him brightly.
It took a long time for Flynn to look at me again. I could tell he was embarrassed. He always felt bad after a meltdown. But I refused to let him feel that way. He shouldn’t feel bad for being who he was.
So I carried on, not allowing either of us to dwell on it.
“Six shirts. Twelve pairs of socks…”Flynn mumbled under his breath.
“We’re only going away for two nights, Flynn. That’s a lot of clothes to bring,” I said.
Flynn shook his head. “No, I need twelve pairs of socks. Six Shirts. Six pairs of pants. Twelve boxer shorts. I need to bring my toothbrush, toothpaste, shampoo, nail clippers, and deodorant.” He went through his list mechanically. I let him recite the things he felt he needed several more times before he finally closed up the case and lifted the handle.
“It’s ten forty-five. We need to leave in fifteen minutes. I have to get Murphy’s dog food and toys. He likes the squeaky cheeseburger,” Flynn went on. We had been lucky to find a hotel that allowed pets because Flynn refused to put Murphy in a kennel.
“I’ve already gotten everything together. His food, his bowls, and his favorite toys. His blanket is already on the back seat of the car,” I told him. Of course Flynn still went through the bag of dog supplies five times before he was satisfied we hadn’t forgotten anything.
We went through the house, making sure lights were turned off, and windows were locked. Ten minutes later we were dragging our suitcases out to the car.
Flynn had a system of stacking the suitcases that was more akin to Tetris. So I left him to it. I put Murphy in the car and got him situated on the back seat.
“You ready to go to the beach?” I asked the dog, kissing the top of his head. He licked my cheek and I laughed.
Flynn got into the driver’s side and pulled out a sheet of paper, placing it on the center console. Sandbridge Beach is three hundred and forty-three miles away. It will take us five hours and fifteen minutes,” Flynn said.
“Depending on traffic,” I interjected.
Flynn frowned but otherwise ignored my comment.
“We will stop in one hour and fifty-one minutes in Lexington, Virginia to get something to eat,” Flynn continued.
