Page 6 of Lucky Sucker

“So, what are you studying?” Donna asked. “When we texted, you mentioned writing, so are you on the creative writing classes?”

I nodded before blurting. “Yeah, it’s my minor, I’m studying journalism, you know, something that could get me a job once I graduate.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Everyone is always so worried about finding a job the minute school is over,” he grumbled. “Just enjoy live and do what you want. Don’t put so much pressure on it.”

Tara scoffed and whacked at Sam’s arm. “Do not listen to him. He’s on a sports scholarship, so he’s going to coast by while we’re buckling down and getting work done.”

“What sport?” I asked.

“Track and field,” he said, nodding he head with a big smile. “I’m pretty fast.”

“And now, he can’t hustle you,” Elliot said, looking over his stack of textbooks at me. “He’s always challenging people to foot races in exchange for stuff, like he nearly had me out of a hundred bucks when we first met. And I love to run.”

“Yeah, but you weren’t recruited to run track here,” Sam said.

I knew it was only playful bickering, but it had me hunching at the shoulders, wishing to cover my ears and cringing internally. “I’m gonna head out, actually, I need to go grab groceries.”

“If you grab candy, please keep it in your room,” Elliot said.

Looking around the table, I didn’t know what he was trying to say from that. “Uh. Sure.”

Thankfully, Donna caught my glance. “It’s because he’s trying not to be tempted to eat candy, or whatever.”

Elliot whacked a hand on top of his books. “My future career as a nutritionist depends on it, I’m not going to give into chocolate when I can just eat an apple.”

Before leaving the house, I went to my room and let out a couple of deep, controlled breaths. Bloo was permanently attached at my chest. I needed to get my room fully sorted so I could play. I hated not being able to regress into my little state, it was important for me to have somewhere I could relax and let free. Plus, I was desperate for some candy now, just a little sugary snack, and a juice box. That would’ve completed me.

Before I could leave the house, Tara stopped me in the doorway. She immediately noticed Bloo in my jacket and gestured to him. “Are you ok?” she asked. “I got homesick in my first year, but second year should be fine.”

“It’s a comfort thing,” I said, tucking him under my arm. “I’m not missing home though. It’s got like—essential oils in it, so it’s relaxing.”

“Oh my gosh, that’s absolutely genius,” she said. “Well, if you ever need help with anything, let me know. I’m pretty good at seeing cues in people.”

“Psych major, right?” I asked.

“Yes. That’s right. So, if you ever want to talk, I’m your girl.”

I could only offer a smile. It was probably not advised to seek psychological advice from someone still in college, and not from someone I was living with. I didn’t need them knowing all the nitty gritty details going on in my brain.

Maplehaven was true to its name, a haven that had a nice sweetness in the air, and that could’ve been because of how close to a bakery I lived, and the proximity to everything else. There was a grocery store, and even a small hobby store, filled with all types of craft bins. I resisted temptation today, but I knew I would be rifling through the yarn bins any day now for a bargain. Chenille yarn was expensive and if they had a deal on that softness, I’d sniff it out.

From the small store, I grabbed a multi-pack of apple juice, a candy bar, and a frozen pizza I’d probably make once everyone was in bed, or out of the house. I’d already fielded a comment about no candy, I didn’t need any more judgement on what I was going to eat.

My room was my safe space, and the more I decorated it, the safer it became.

In a onesie with Bloo and some of my other crochet creations, namely octopus and jellyfish, they were easy to make, and I had a fascination with the ocean, guarded way behind a fear for it. They were named and renamed over and over because nothing ever stuck, except for Bloo.

Even in my safe space, I felt the need to keep my voice down. I didn’t need anyone asking if I had guests over, or what was happening in there. All I needed were my headphones, a good YouTube video of one of my old favorite cartoon classics, and my big bag of yarn. Alongside my crochet hooks and stitch markers.

Once school started, I’d be busier and so would everyone else.

My brain had always been an enemy whenever I was trying to convince myself of something good. It would lambast me with negative thoughts and insults people could hurt me with. The most frequent one I heard my brain hurl was weirdo, but lucky for me, I was drowning it out with catchy theme tunes and counting stitches.

“This is going to be a big octopus,” I said, after not paying too much attention to the double crochet I’d been making inside of what had been a magic circle. “A big octopus.” I giggled as the word sounded funny on my tongue.

The crocheted plushies were sitting around me on the bed, probably having a meeting about what I was making, and how by the end of it, it could’ve probably sucked them all inside it like a small tote bag. It reminded me of an actual tote I’d tried crocheting, but stopped because I didn’t have the material to line it with.

The second my fingers put the hooks down, I was deflated with the recollection of what happened in the ice rink earlier. The way they all stopped on the ice to look at me, and the way the coach had asked if I was going to be the reporter for the ice hockey team.

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