Read Online Some Kind of Normal by Juliana Stone - Free Book Online

hair, a jagged line that no one would see unless I shaved my head. Since I liked my hair on the long side, that wasn’t happening any time soon.
    I worked out like a son of a bitch, and other than my knee, my body was good. Physically I was probably in the best shape I’ve ever been in. I had all my teeth. They were straight. White. My eyes looked the same. Nose had escaped the accident unscathed.
    Every single thing about me looked the same, and yet it wasn’t.
    Seizure. If ever one word can define you, that was it for me.
    I wouldn’t be the same again. Ever.
    My fists clenched, and for a moment, I let the rage swell. It pushed up from my chest and fired through my cells. I can’t lie. In a sick way, it felt good.
    My perfectly normal face stared back at me, and I wanted to smash the mirror and obliterate the image, because it was a total effing lie.
    Shit.
    Chest heaving, I dragged my eyes away, because if I did punch the mirror, my dad would have my ass. I don’t know how long I leaned over the sink in the bathroom staring at the faded porcelain and the crack that ran along the edge, but it was long enough for my eyes to blur. Long enough for the hard, cold fear inside me to grow and expand until I had a tough time breathing and my skin was covered in sweat.
    I had to get out of there.
    Stopping at my room long enough to grab a T-shirt, I didn’t bother changing out of my sweat pants and headed for the front door. I was almost home free, but I stopped when I heard her voice. Everly. What. The. Hell.
    I’d told Mom to send her away. I mean, why was she here anyway? Did she want another look at the freak?
    That pin inside my head—the one attached to a crap ton of anger just waiting to explode—well, that pin pulled and I swung around, heading for the kitchen before I could (A) think about it and realize maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, or (B) stop myself once I did realize that I was probably going to make a complete ass out of myself.
    Everly was at the kitchen table and turned when I walked into the room.
    â€œWhy are you here?” The words tore out of me, and inside, my heart beat as fast and furious as a Metallica drum track. Double kick and hitting hard. I wanted to break something. Anything.
    My gaze swung widely until I caught sight of my mom, her soft brown eyes shadowed with a whole bunch of stuff that I was responsible for.
    â€œTrevor,” she said quietly. “Take a moment, okay? Just breathe.”
    â€œDon’t talk to me like I’m a goddamn baby,” I shouted.
    Shit. This wasn’t going well.
    The last time I “pulled the pin,” as my dad liked to call it, I’d put my fist through the drywall in the garage. When it came over me, the rage was hard to control, and this morning my feelings were all over the place. So yeah, I knew I should have run out the front door, but here I was and there was no turning back.
    â€œBreathe,” Mom said again, moving toward me.
    I stared down into her eyes when she put her hands on me. Saw the hurt in them when I flinched. It was hard to explain, but I felt twitchy, like my skin was pulled too tight. And I had to be honest. I was scared shitless that I would hurt her.
    â€œI gotta get out of here.”
    â€œTrevor, please. Just sit down with us. I made your favorite. Waffles and strawberries.”
    She didn’t get it. No one did. Hell, I didn’t even get why I acted the way I did sometimes. It was like there was an ocean of stuff inside me, rolling in like constant waves buffeting the shore, just waiting for a chance to break. And when they did? When they crashed onto the beach and annihilated the sand, there would be nothing left. The weird thing is that sometimes it was the nothing that I wanted, because feeling nothing was somehow better than this.
    â€œWhere are the car keys?” I asked, shoving past my mom.
    Taylor appeared from nowhere and scooped them off the