November 4th

Stones,

I’m taking guitar lessons. My mom signed me up without even asking if I wanted to go. I’m pretty sure this is her way of getting back at my dad for getting me the dog—I still don’t know what to call her. And she’s chewing everything I own. She completely wrecked my backpack and my favorite runners. Yes, the green Converse! AND my room smells like pee. It’s not funny.

Okay, maybe it’s a little funny.

My mom said she feels like I need to be doing something other than going to school and coming home. I’m sixteen; isn’t that enough? She goes to work and comes home. I think she just really wants me out of the house. I’ve been kind of annoying, asking a lot of questions about God and religion. I think my sudden interest in religion is freaking her out. She told the OC about it, and I had to have this really awkward conversation about why I have this sudden interest in God.

It’s not like I want to go and join a cult or anything. It’s amazing how uncomfortable people get when the topic of religion comes up. The OC told my mom not to worry but that maybe I should have some extra-curricular outlets … and so the guitar lessons.

At first I told her that I didn’t want to take the lessons, but she looked so happy and hopeful. Anyway, I finally agreed to go. I don’t know how you’re going to feel about this, but I’m going to be using your guitar. You know how I told you that our moms were getting to be friends—well, that’s still happening. Your mom has been phoning my mom a lot lately. When I see it’s your number, I try not to answer the phone cuz … well … you know, it’s weird. I know she wants to talk to me; it makes her feel like she might be talking to you … maybe. I don’t know. I just know I feel uncomfortable talking to her. We have nothing to say to each other. It’s just awkward.

Anyway, I guess my mom told your mom about me needing to get out, and it was your mom’s idea that I take guitar lessons. She told my mom that I should use your guitar … that you would have wanted it that way. I’m not so sure you would have. I hope you’re not mad about it. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel about our moms making plans for me together. I feel bad for your mom. I know she misses you. She asked my mom if I could babysit your little brother. I miss Owen and, I know I told you I’d look out for the little booger, but I just can’t be in your house. Not without you.

Sticks