Amanda's Eyes - Chapter 3

Amanda's Eyes - Chapter Three  – Plans

The Wednesday and Thursday sessions were the same with Amanda although, knowing Ken wouldn’t fall for it, she didn’t try the book-dropping trick again. He in turn completely ignored her comments about his smell, however on Thursday, he actually asked Miss Harris if he had an offensive odor, relating Amanda’s comment. With a grin, she assured him that all she noticed was a pleasant aftershave fragrance.
After reading for a while, Ken asked Amanda if she wanted to discuss the book a little since it was required reading in one of her classes.
Her reply was a predictable, “You really are fucking stupid. Why would I want to talk to you more than I have to?”
With that, he started to lose it a little, “Why do you even come to these reading sessions if you think they’re so useless?”
“Because the school social worker bitch convinced my mom it would be good for me. As if either of them care about what’s good for me anyway. I don’t see why they keep me in this fucking school at all. It’s not like I’m getting anything out of it, and I just know that when I’m in the hallways with my guide leading me around like a fucking dog, everyone looks at me and laughs at the poor, dumb, blind girl trying to pretend she’s normal. They should have just let me die.”
Anyone could see that Amanda was hurting, but it seemed like there was nothing a mere mortal could do to get through to her. Ken figured his easiest option was to finish off the two weeks and thank the stars that he’d never have to see her again. This was more than frustrating; never before had he encountered anyone he couldn’t at least have a civil conversation with.
Friday, after Ken had read for about thirty minutes, he decided to try again. “Weekend coming up. I’m going to the football game tonight to watch my girlfriend cheer the team on. Then we’ll probably get some food. Saturday I have to work at the movie theater. I collect tickets and sometimes help out behind the concession counter. I don’t know yet what I’m doing on Sunday. How about you?” Even as he was saying it he realized it was a mistake.
Turning her head toward him, her eyebrows pulled down into a hard line, points of red high up on her cheeks, and with a look of pure rage, she took a deep breath and snarled, “You asshole! Are you making fun of me too? Haven’t you noticed yet? I’m the stupid blind girl. I don’t have a boyfriend! I don’t even have any girlfriends! I don’t have a job. I don’t have a life. I’m not going to any football games. I sit at home at night and listen to the damn TV. I listen to my mom remind me of my wonderful “potential.” She’s fucking stupid; I don’t have any potential. I don’t have a future. I’ll be sitting there listening to my mom say the same damn things when I’m forty five. No, I don’t have any plans for the weekend. I will sit on my ass on the couch. I will sleep. I will have a fucking GREAT time. Get it, you shithead?”
Having heard some of the outburst, Miss Harris came to the room and suggested that maybe it was a good time to end the session for the day. Ken looked at Amanda wistfully and said he was sorry, then added a goodbye. She just clenched her jaw and looked away. No one noticed the tears beginning to creep down her cheeks; no one noticed when she wiped them away so hard she just about tore her skin off.



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