19 | Freud And Me
"Don’t go through life, grow through life.”
- Eric Butterworth
Humans are selfish beings. We all desire things and whilst some may not admit it, may ignore it, we all want certain things to go our way. Sometimes we do things that we know will hurt other people because it will make us feel better.
Freud, the psychologist, who came up with the psychodynamic theory, suggested that our personality is structured into three parts: the ego, superego and the id. He said that the superego was our moral reality, it represents our moral standards, the part of us that wants to do the right thing. The id is the selfish part of us, the one that pursues desires. These are both unconscious, making us unaware of it. The ego is the balance of both of these, it compromises the two.
So I am wondering what on earth the compromise was when I planted my lips on Jason’s. All I felt was selfishness when I did it - and guilt.
I don’t like Jason; I know he doesn’t like me. I did it because I wanted to make Callum jealous despite the fact that I know I will never date him. Honestly, I don’t think I want to. I just wanted to hurt him.
Students gasp in shock around us, murmuring about what they are witnessing in disbelief. I try to drown them out and focus on Jason’s soft lips. Admittedly, he is one hell of a kisser but I don’t feel what I want - the butterflies in my stomach. My head isn’t being blown away by it, my heart isn’t racing.
I feel guilty. I guess I can blame my superego for that.
Unlatching myself from Jason, I give him my best, believable smile. His blue eyes assess mine, trying to figure out whether I’m okay or not. I don’t know what on earth crossed my head two minutes ago when I wanted to kiss him and when I did but I now regret it.
I can’t even muster up the courage to stare at Callum, who I believe feels something for me. I’ve noticed it since I got here, the subtle looks, the longing. I just didn’t want to read into it. However, there is that small part that is desperate to know if he’s jealous of Jason or not.
Hundreds of eyes are on us, snapping pictures of what just occurred. I bet I will get home and find Twitter completely blown up with theories of what happened. Now I’m certain the press will be here by tomorrow, firing questions at me.
I really didn’t think this through.
Speedily, Alan comes over to me and ushers me into the car, wordlessly. His face is expressionless but I think I see a hint of disappointment in his eyes. My heart deflates at the fact that I made people feel ashamed by me. My intention was to get a reaction out of Callum. But now that I’ve done it, I can’t even gather the courage to look at him.
Am I a horrible person? We all do horrible things but does that mean everyone is a horrible person? What defines someone as a horrible person? What categorizes one?
Is hurting someone you care about to get a reaction out of them one? Or is it more serious like physically hurting someone?
Jason follows me and gets in as well, slamming the door shut. I have never felt more relieved that the windows are tinted so you can’t see into the car. Alan revs the engine and reverses out of the parking space he just pulled into. Just before we leave, I catch a glimpse at Callum and his dejected expression. The guilt washes me up like a strong current, hauling my stupid ass into the sea to never be seen again. Callum glances at our car, he glares at it with such hatred. And then he clenches his jaw and storms off to his car.
I’m such a fool. Just as we were beginning to make progress, I go and muck it up.
The drive back to the house is painfully silent - awkward. Jason tries to make conversation but I only respond with one-worded answers. Eventually, he gets the gist and shuts his gob. Alan occasionally glances at me through the rearview mirror. When I catch his eye, he snaps his eyes back to the road, pretending nothing happened.
As soon as we pull up to my large, luxurious house, I jump out. Rushing into the house, I blank Casey’s warm greetings and go to my room, collapsing onto my bed. My body bounces up and down from the impact and I bury my head into my pillow, releasing an angry scream.
I’m. An. Idiot.
Loud knocks resound through my room but I pay no attention to them. Casey tries to convince me to the open the door to talk but I ignore her. Right now, I need time alone to think about my actions. I f*cked up and everyone knows it. Casey gives up twenty minutes later and returns two hours later. Once again, I don’t reply. Jason even tries but he is the last person I want to talk to right now.
I know I’m as much to blame as him but I can’t help but want to blame him more. He suggested it. If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t be here right now.
“Please Whitney, I wanted to make you feel better. you know that” Jason begs from the other side of the door. “Can we at least talk about it?”
“Fine, we’ll talk in the morning.”
At 12:06 I begin to drift into a dreamless sleep, my body exhausted. When darkness finally opens its arms up from me, I welcome it without thinking twice.
“Wake up.” A girls voice demands, shaking my body roughly. Groaning, I slap their hand away and try to go back to sleep. “Whitney Winters, don’t be such a pain. Either you get up in the next five seconds or I get a bucket of ice-cold water.”
Hearing the threat, I open my eyes, blinking at the harsh light. Casey stands, hovering over my body with an unimpressed face. Her blue eyes are narrowed together like slits, her pink lips pressed together in annoyance. She has her black hair tied into a neat, hair pulled bun and her arms are crossed over her chest, expectantly.
“You f*cked up,” she states, bitterness clear in her tone. “You really messed up and now we have the media camped out of the house. You and Jason blew Twitter, Instagram, and any other social network platform up. So do you mind telling me what on earth happened?”
I gulp at her tone and sit up, kicking the covers off of me. A tear escapes my eye, followed by another and then another. They flow freely out of me, cascading down my cheeks.
Casey’s face softens and she embraces me in a comforting hug, one that I desperately needed.
“Oh, Whitney.” She mumbles, kissing my messy hair. I sob into her chest, tightly clinging onto her t-shirt. I cry for the mistake I made, for the people I hurt. It’s so much more than the kiss. I cry for lying to Hannah, for hurting Callum, Brock and the twins. I cry about leaving my parents and making them feel stressed.
“I don’t know what to do now,” I croak. “I-I didn’t mean to do it and now I have, I regret it so much. How do I explain it to them?”
“Ssh,” Casey whispers into my ear, smoothing my hair. “You just need to talk to them. Talk.”
She makes that sound so easy. Whilst Casey is optimistic, I’m not.
My cries begin to subside once I’ve used up all of my water. Casey whispers soothings things into my ears until all I am doing is hiccuping.
“Right, I think its time for you to go to school.” She says, untangling herself from me and standing up.
“I guess,” I mutter, swinging my legs off of the bed. My feet touch the cold, wooden floor. Shivers run down my spine and goosebumps form on my arms. My feet pad on the floor, until I make it to my walk-in wardrobe that is carpeted.
Casey follows me, humming a soft tune under her breath. “What do you want to wear?”
“I don’t care,” I reply, truthfully. For once, I don’t care if I go to school in baggy clothing. That’s how I feel right now. God, I sound like someone going through a break-up.
Casey sighs and searches through the rack. She picks out a pair of black leggings and a Victoria’s Secret Pink top. Casey leaves me, ordering me to be ready in five minutes. I put them on, my moves are sluggish and slow. After, I pack my bag with the necessary books and snatch a pair of sunglasses from my dressing table.
Before I leave the room, I check the mirror. As suspected, my appearance is awful. My combed hair hands down my body, in natural waves. My golden locks look duller, less shiny. There are bags under my blue eyes, that have lost the sparkle in them. My make-up-less face is pale and sullen.
I look as bad as I feel.
It’s funny that in less than twenty-four hours after my mess, I look like a train-wreck. One simple kiss did this, one stupid mistake.
I bound the stairs, seeing Alan waiting at the bottom. He’s dressed immaculately in his suit, with sunglasses on. I pop my sunglasses on, that covers a lot of my face. Jason smiles when he sees me; I try to do the same. I think it came out more like a grimace though.
Casey hugs me before I leave, wishing me a good luck.
As soon as Alan opens the front door, the press hounds on us. Alan pushes through them, knocking anyone away who gets too close. They fire questions at me, snapping pictures. I feel overwhelmed and nauseous. The feeling of claustrophobia has me wanting to curl up in a ball and start crying again.
Alan opens the door and I quickly get in, releasing a relieved sigh.
At school, there is more press. Alan pushes through the throng of people, with the help of some teachers. Students watch the ordeal, curious.
I ignore all of the questions about Jason, asking if I’m dating him.
The doors to the school open with a bang and I rush inside, shutting the doors behind me. I can still hear the reporters yells and the snapping of cameras but less. My eyes close; I inhale deeply. I need to get myself together.
When I open my eyes, I see the groups faces. Callum appears just as down as I, though at least he doesn’t look pale. Hannah is the first to react. She strolls over to me and embraces me in a hug. My arms wrap around her and for the first time today, I feel a bit better.
When I pull away, Hannah smiles, hoping to comfort me. I recuperate it but then focus my attention back on my task. Callum.
“Callum, can I...can I talk to you?” I ask, nervously. I chew on the bottom of my lip in hope of him agreeing.
My hope deflates when he responds. “Sorry, can’t. Anyway, shouldn’t you be hanging out with your new boyfriend."
Sourly, he spins on his heel and marches off. Hannah frowns whilst the rest of the gang gives looks of understanding and sympathy. That reminds me, I have to speak to Hannah. It’s time I told her everything. And then, after school, I’m planning to take a trip to my parents. My hope is that in between that, Callum will be willing to talk to me. I know I don’t owe him a thing but doing this is important to me. Perhaps its to ease my conscious. Ease that superego of mine.
So...I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Remember to let me know what you think in the comment section!