Tuesday
I don’t know how I ended up as Daxx – double x and everything. My real name’s Saidee. Saidee Margaret Raleigh Hampton. That’s what’s on my birth certificate. It’s a mouthful, and somehow it turned into Daxx. I guess my life’s pretty normal. My friends suck. I make bad grades. I hate my parents, and I do drugs. Sounds extreme, I know – but whose life isn’t?
It’s Tuesday and CNN blares somewhere behind me. Our family’s got money and our house is big, but it’s somehow impossible for me to escape the noise. Of course. My sister walks in. She’s always leaving stuff running – the TV, the garbage disposal, the vent above the stove, her boyfriends, whatever.
It’s obvious she’s bleached her hair today because the smell’s so overwhelming I cough when she gets too close. It looks like she’s laid out by the pool for too long again. Her skin’s about the same color as Pepto-Bismol – something I feel like I could use right now. The stench of insecurity’s making me sick. She’s got an airy look in those batty blue eyes and I know she wants something.
“What?” I shoot at her.
“Have you seen Tanner?”
“You’re watching him.”
“That means no?”
“Where would you be if you were Tanner?”
I shake my head as she walks out and can’t help but snicker. She’s straight out of law school, and it’s her first summer home. I know how hard it must be to run after someone with a diploma three feet up your butt. So maybe I don’t know – but it’s a pretty fair guess.
My worthless sister stumbles in through the front door. Her eyes are huge and she’s lugging hedge trimmers out to the garage.
“He took down a third of the tree this time,” she says like it’s my fault.
I go to the TV room and turn off CNN. When that channel’s on all I hear is a loud buzzing sound that I really hope is coming from Atlanta. Every station I flip through is just as lame. There’s nothing good on TV. Nothing’s interesting. Nothing ever is.
“Oh leave it there.” My sister takes the remote from me. In her long absence I’ve forgotten how she owns the planet.
“Why?”
“Didn’t you see?” She turns it back to some station in the non-HD channels that no one really watches. “See? That’s that documentary Aunt Carol was telling Mom about on Easter.”
I try to snatch the remote, “Go find Tanner.”
“Calm down, Saidee.”
"Don’t call me Saidee.”
“That’s your name…”
“That’s what our mother was screaming in labor.”
My sister laughs, but not at my joke. “And what would you name your kid, Daxx?”
“Something that Microsoft Word doesn’t think is a misspelling.”
“Yeah, good luck.” She makes herself comfortable.
“Aren’t you supposed to be doing something else...?”
“Maybe you should watch Tanner. You think you’re better at it anyway.”
“He likes me more,” I remind her even though it’s clear she hasn't forgotten and I go try to find where she’s lost our stupid little brother.
Tanner’s outside. It’s hot – about 110F if I had to guess. Tanner looks at me.
“Hi, Tanner.” I say.
He says Hi, but it comes out more like “ayah!” Doesn’t matter to me. I know he knows I’m there.
Tanner’s a pretty cool looking kid. He’s got natural blond hair that I know my sister wishes she got instead of that mucky brown she likes to cover up. His eyes are blue. All ours are. His clothes are always name brand and expensive looking. Today that means Under Armour gym shorts and a Texas A&M logo tee from the bookstore in College Station. I look at the maroon, disgusted. It’s where our sister went for her Pre-Law/Psychology/English/Spanish/Bullshit degree. Half our family went there and I still hate the Aggies. I can’t help it, but a shirt’s a shirt to Tanner.
He’s playing basketball in the driveway, and he’s actually really good. If he were allowed to play for the high school he’d be a starter for sure. Bottom line it’s not allowed and on top of that the crowd’s cheering would probably confuse him and the stopping and starting of the game would definitely cause a problem, not to mention trash talk from the other players; but his skills are solid. He’s a champ out here.
My phone says 3:43pm and my mom won’t be home till 7. She’s a CPA in Downtown Houston. Add traffic. I’m cooking for three tonight.
My sister hurries out to the driveway. She’s always in such a goddamn rush to get to places. I never got it. It’s like her life’s on one of those timers that ends when you run out of sand. I think it’s weird.
“Sissa!” Tanner exclaims (but it’s really just a stim).
“Tanner!” She smiles. Her name is Marissa, but this is as close as he gets.
“Your movie over?” I ask.
“I’m done with it.”
The three of us play basketball in comfortable silence, broken only by Tanner’s stimming, until the natural light fades. Tanner stims a lot, but it’s easy for him to come out of it when we’ve got something to distract him.
Marissa’s smiling. Her diploma seems to have dropped its way out. I’ve heard sports can do that to a person. We’re playing ball and Tanner’s happy. He’s always happy. It takes a lot to piss that kid off. I guess he’s kind of lucky that way. Marissa has her document stashed away somewhere, and it says 4.0. Seems The Aggies forgot to put Bullshit on that stupid piece of paper.
And there’s me – Daxx. Saidee Margaret Raleigh Hampton. Daxx. My friends suck. I make bad grades. I hate my parents. I do drugs.
One day my friends will grow up. They’ll get over themselves and realize that Spencer broke up with Molly because she’s a whiney little bitch, and she deserves better than a slimy condescending asshole anyway. Troy will grow out of his penis-phase. Andy will eventually send Lexi another friend request and they’ll get back together until they break up again. Elise will find a school just as good as Rice – and they’ll all be fine.
My grades aren’t so great, and it’s a little late to raise my GPA above a 3.5. I guess I should start packing for Stilly. Fuck the Sooners.
I haven’t decided whether or not to stop hating my parents.
I’ll stop smoking weed when it gets old.
So I guess hate is a pretty intense word. Resent. Yeah, I resent them. In 40-ish years they’ll be dead. And on account of being perfect Marissa’s allowed to have a life outside this cultural wasteland people named the suburbs. So in 40-ish years her successful career as a corporate defense lawyer will be through. She’ll be retired with a million grandkids. She’s seven years older than me – so I’ll probably still be working. Shit, who am I kidding? I’ll be working till the day I die. I don’t know what I’ll be yet, or where I’ll be. Dallas. I like Dallas. Yeah, Dallas sounds good. Tanner likes Florida though, but it’s so gross down there. I guess St. Pete’s isn’t so bad. He’d be happy there, and if it gets too hot there’s a whole effing ocean to cool off in. Still – gotta admit. Dallas is kind of the bomb. Eventually I might have to start going by Saidee. Daxx Hampton would look awfully strange on a job app. Too bad it’d look perfect outside a strip club.
The light’s gone and I don’t give a shit anymore. Marissa says she’ll get everything ready so I can start dinner. After all, she’s been watching Tanner all day long! I could at least try to make myself useful and cook something.
“Show-sher.” Tanner says. It means he thinks he needs a shower.
“Go ahead.” I reply like I’m his mother or something. He runs, stimming heavily into the garage. “Hey Tanner!”
“Daxx!” Even though the whole world knows it’s a stim Daxx is the only word Tanner says clearly.
“What do you want for dinner?”
Tanner looks around the driveway, deciding. “I wan to eak pagetti. ehs?” I want to eat Spaghetti. Yes?
I nod because I can understand him. He runs inside to his shower – happier than a mom who’s just gotten out of carpool (three shots later). All because he knows he’s getting spaghetti for dinner, and I know he knows. Standing in my driveway – I’m happy enough. 40-ish years is a long way off. I’ll worry about it tomorrow.
This was at his prom. He was trying to hide his hate for being photographed with "The Robot".
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