My father would like me to be more social.
I have gone my entire life without being more social than absolutely necessary. I never had many friends, just Bones, my dog. After my mother died when was nine l spoke most to my father. I was-and am, even at eighteen-too weird for my peers. It's not a mystery as to why.
I have an eidetic memory. Yes, like Sheldon from the Big Bang Theory. It's not a fictionalized condition, you know. Real people do have eidetic memories. A minuscule percentage, yes, but we exist nonetheless. And for all the simple minded, (please don't be insulted by that-l most commonly refer to humanity as simple minded because, well, that's what humanity is) I suppose should define what exactly an eidetic memory consists of.
An eidetic memory…show more content… Which means Debbie, my father's girlfriend (and probably soon to be wife number three), has a free day and wants to have lunch with us. She's a real estate agent with a smile so white it challenges the rays of the sun. Seriously, it's blinding. I'm always seeing spots after we interact. For the love of God, Debbie, artificial teeth whitening is not always the answer.
As I previously stated, I am eighteen years old and I will begin my college degree in the fall. don't know what area of science I am most interested in yet-but I know I'm definitely going into science. With as little social interaction as allows.
However, this particular Thursday i not one I can spend in solitude. Not with lunch-date-demanding Debbie around. It seems to me realtors just love lunches. For every occasion, they suggest having lunch, and Debbie is no exception.
So when my dad knocks on the door of my room and steps inside to find me sitting in my pajamas with a book, he frowns. "Niall," he says. "You do realize we're meeting Debbie at that salad place in a half hour."
"I hate that salad place," I say, not ceasing to read as l reply to him. "Too many greens on the