“What’s everyone reading?” I whispered.
Her pretty green eyes sparkled with excitement. “Rae, you know I’m not big on poetry. But even I teared up when I saw today’s paper. Check out the poetry pages. You won’t believe it.”
I flipped through until I found it. This time “Poetry Matters” was four pages rather than two. Alix moved her finger around the poems on the second set of pages. They were all signed “Anonymous.”
I looked at her, my mouth gaping open. “How many are there?”
“Fourteen people submitted anonymously this time. And some of them are so heartbreaking. I’m not kidding.”
I had just started reading when she nudged me with her elbow. Nathan walked by with his new “friends.” He’d come back from winter break a completely different person. Gone was the all-American boy and in his place was someone I hardly recognized. First of all, he had a mustache and a scruffy little beard. And he was letting his hair grow out. None of it looked good on him. He looked way older. Darker. He didn’t come to the benches at all when school started up again. Santiago had tried to reach out to him when he got back, but according to Alix, Nathan didn’t want anything to do with him.
I’ll admit, I was relieved at first. But then, a few days later, as I headed to lunch, I saw him sneaking out the back door with a couple of stoners. From that day forward, whenever I saw him, that’s who he was with.
Guilt consumed me. Had he turned to them because of me? Was he changing who he was, who and what he cared about, because of me? Had I hurt him that bad?
Alix told me, “He’s not your problem anymore. If that’s what he wants to do with his life, then let him. We all make choices, Rae. And we have no one to blame but ourselves when we make bad ones.”
Now I watched him walk by, his shoulders slumped and his hands stuffed in his pockets, like he didn’t want to bring attention to himself. He gave me the slightest of glances, his longish bangs partially covering his vacant eyes. I tried to smile at him. Santiago called over, “Hey, Nathan. Come here, man. You getting excited? Baseball practice starts up soon, right?”
No response. Didn’t even turn around. Sadness pressed against my heart.
The bell rang, so we all tucked our newspapers away and scattered like dandelion seeds.
I was one of the first to arrive in English class. Ms. Bloodsaw motioned me over to her. “Did you see the paper, Rae?”
“Yeah, I was just looking at it. I didn’t get a chance to read them all yet, but wow. It’s kind of amazing, right?”
She winked. “Really amazing.” She leaned in and whispered, “It’s like you’ve started a poetry revolution.”
I loved the sound of that—a poetry revolution. Troubles at home? Put your pen to the page. Is your boyfriend being a jerk? Instead of spreading lies all over the Internet, whip out your journal and write a poem or two.
Ms. Bloodsaw gave us the period to read The Great Gatsby. I had finished the book, so I pulled out my poetry journal and began playing around with a new poem.
Felicia turned around. “Did you see the one Nathan wrote about you?” she whispered.
“No. How do you know it’s about me?”
“Because he used your name.”
My stomach dropped to the floor.
“Felicia,” Ms. Bloodsaw called out. That’s all she needed to say. Felicia turned around as I thought back to where things were with me and Nathan a month ago. That was about the time we’d broken up.
Time dragged as I tried to focus on my poem. I couldn’t stop wondering, What did he say, what did he say, WHAT DID HE SAY?
Finally, the bell rang. I rushed up the aisle and out into the hallway, pulling the newspaper out of my backpack as I went. The bathroom seemed the only safe spot to read the thing without having everyone’s eyes on me.
A couple of girls stood at the mirrors, putting on lipstick. I went into a stall and shut the door, leaning up against it as I scanned the poems. The title “For My Girl” jumped out at me. It was a short one, by Anonymous, and Felicia had been right. He’d used my name, although in a very subtle way. Some people probably wouldn’t even catch it. But I knew, without a doubt, it was about me. I’d thought he’d say terrible things, like I’d said about him in the poem I’d submitted for this issue. But it was just the opposite. And so it didn’t upset me, really. I actually kind of liked it.
For My Girl
by Anonymous
I’m not good with words.
I want to tell you how I feel
when you look into my eyes.
I want to tell you how I feel
when you smile at me.
I want to tell you how I feel
when you kiss me soft and slow.
I try.
But my words,
they’re never quite right.
If only you could see my heart.
Know what you’d find?
A million little Raes,
lighting my insides
like a lantern.
That’s what I’ve been
trying to tell you
all this time.
You light me up.
ups and downs
AT LUNCH I GRABBED ALIX AWAY FROM SANTIAGO FOR A MINUTE. They were headed off campus to get something to eat.
“Did you see Nathan’s poem?” I pulled the paper out of my backpack and pointed it out to her.
“How do you know that’s him?” she asked.
“He spelled ‘rays’ wrong. It’s spelled like my name.”
She shrugged. “So? Lots of people, me included, are crappy spellers.”
“Why is it capitalized like my name, then?”
“Alix, come on,” Santiago called from the doorway.
She touched my cheek. “Rae, do you remember how you wanted him to leave you alone? Well, now he’s leaving you alone. If he really did write that poem, it’s history now. Just like the two of you. Let it go. He’ll be okay. And so will you.”
She took off with Santiago, and I stood there, wondering what was wrong with me. I’d felt something after I read his poem. Flattered, maybe? And perhaps a little sad that things didn’t work out between us.
I quickly opened the paper and read the poem I’d written a month ago, when I knew breaking up with him was the right decision.
I didn’t miss him. Not really.
What I missed was someone wanting to be with me. Not wanting me in that way, but someone who wanted to get to know me and wanted to spend time with me because of who I am. I mean, that’s huge. Out of a million things a person could choose to do with his time, how amazing is it when he chooses to spend it with you?
I hadn’t had many people in my life who made me feel special. You know what happens after a while? You start to wonder if you matter.
I mean, really and truly matter.
And the more time that goes by, the harder it is to believe that you do.
• • •
After school I went to work, wearing the scarf Spencer had given me for Christmas. I’d thanked him when I came back from vacation, but it had been unseasonably warm so I hadn’t worn it.
Today he stood up when I walked in, a huge grin on his face. “Oh, Rae. It looks fabulous on you.”
I ran my hand down one side of the scarf. “I know, right? It’s like it was made just for me.”
“You really love it?” he asked.
“Spencer, I adore it. I’m surprised you don’t have people lining up outside your home, asking for one. I’m telling you, you’re amazing.”
Just then, a customer walked in.
“Hi,” I said. “How can we help you?”
“My name, Peter, is on your board. I wanted to pick up the free flower to take home to my wife.”
While Spencer helped him, I stepped into the workroom where Nina was busy arranging a bunch of lavender and white roses with white minicarnations.
“Hi, Nina. What’s happening? Did I miss anything exciting today?”
She chuckled. “You mean like a visit from the Queen of England? Nope, nothing out of the ordinary, I’m afraid.” She tucked a white rose into the vase. “Though that reminds me, I forgot to tell you, the floral philanthropist struck again while you were on vacation. Your name was on the envelope, but Spencer delivered it.”
“So who was the lucky recipient this time?”
“Well, she’s not really so lucky. It was a mom whose teen son is in rehab for drug addiction.”
I couldn’t help but wonder if it was someone I went to school with. “That’s too bad. I hope the flowers cheered her up.”
She spun the vase around, giving it a critical eye. “I have to say, it makes all the annoying stuff in my life seem trivial. Last night I went home to find the electricity had gone out. The electric company said they’d send someone as soon as they could. But I’m afraid I’ve lost a freezer full of pizzas.”
I tried not to laugh. “Frozen pizzas?”
“Well, I don’t have time to cook.”
“I get it. I’d live on pizza too, if I could. I tried to get hired on at the Mushroom just for the discount. But they weren’t hiring.”
“What? Are you thinking of leaving me?”
I smiled. “No. This was a while ago. Before you hired me.”
She held her hand to her chest. “Thank goodness. You about gave me a heart attack, Rae.”
“Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure you’re stuck with me.” I paused. “Nina, if I decided I needed a full-time job, could you give me more hours? I mean, would that be a possibility?”
She stood up, with a puzzled look on her face, and rubbed her lower back. “What about school? You’re not thinking of dropping out, are you?”
I shrugged. “No. But I—”
“Wait,” she interrupted. “Finances still troubling you?”
After Dean cleaned out my bank account, how could I be anything but troubled? I nodded.
“Hang in there, honey. Things will get better. Dropping out of school is not the answer, I promise.”
It wasn’t like I’d seriously been considering it. I’d just been curious. “I think I need a tea,” I told her, ready to change the subject. “You want anything?”
“Yes, great idea. I’d love a coffee. Get some cash from the register and get us all something.”
Spencer was on the phone with a customer, so I grabbed a ten and went next door.
Leo sat in one of the comfy chairs, flipping through a magazine. I was so glad to see him. I hadn’t seen him since before Christmas.
“Hey,” I said as I slid into the chair next to his. “Long time, no see.”
He tried to smile, but he looked exhausted. “Rae. How are you?”
“I’m all right. You, however, look terrible. What’s going on?”
He set the magazine down. “It’s been a rough few weeks. My grandma’s been really sick with pneumonia, so we’ve been taking turns at the hospital with her. We actually spent Christmas Day there. Christmas dinner in the cafeteria is something else. You should try it sometime. The lime Jell-O? Out of this world.”
“Oh no. And here I thought I had a crappy Christmas. Yours sounds terrible.”
He nodded. Then he raised his eyebrows. “Wanna have a do-over?”
“What do you mean?”
“A Christmas do-over. Me and you. We could exchange gifts. Go out for a ham dinner. Sing carols.”
I laughed. “A ham dinner? Really?”
“What, you don’t like ham? Turkey, then.”
I shook my head and held out my hands. “I don’t think so. I’d be up for another video though.”
He scratched his head, as if considering the proposition. “Okay. But only if we can do it at the mall. We’ll pick gifts out for each other. And the gifts will live on in the video. But nowhere else.”
“Gift giving without the expense. I like it. When?”
He sighed. “Yeah. That’s gonna be the hard part. I’m basically working full-time and then some right now.”
“What about school?”
“Leo!” his brother called as a couple of customers walked in.
He stood up and shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s not exactly anyone’s priority right now.” He looked around. Then he said quietly, “I told Mom I wouldn’t be able to work that much and keep up with my online classes. She told me not to worry about school for the time being. I can catch up later.” He leaned in. “To be honest, I’m afraid later will never happen and I’ll be working here forever.”
Poor guy. He really needed to have some fun.
“Let’s do the video tomorrow night,” I told him as I stood up. “Six o’clock. We’ll leave from here. I’ll drive.”
“Sounds good.” Leo reached out and touched my scarf. “Very nice. I like it.”
“It was a Christmas present from Spencer.” Without thinking, I said, “The only one I got.”
He nodded as his hand moved from the scarf down to my hand. He held it as he said, “I’m sorry. You deserve so much more. You know that, right?”
I didn’t quite know how to respond. I cleared my throat and fidgeted a little, so Leo smiled and said, “You really do,” before he headed over to help his brother.
As I got in line, I realized why I’d felt so flustered. With just a few words and a simple gesture, he’d made me feel that elusive feeling I’d been thinking about earlier.
For a second I’d felt . . . special.
afraid
MOM’S CAR WAS GONE, BUT SHE WAS HOME WHEN I GOT BACK that evening. For the third night in a row, she hadn’t gone to work. Dean, on the other hand, was nowhere in sight.
“Can I give you a ride to work?” I asked when I walked in.
She shook her head. “I called in sick.”
I sat down next to her on the couch. She had the television turned on to the news. The weatherman said we could expect a big storm over the next few days. “Stormy” pretty much described my life lately.
“Are you okay?” I asked Mom.
She sighed. “I don’t know, Rae. I think something bad is going on. And I have no idea what to do about it.”
Well, she might not know, but I knew exactly what we should do.
“Let’s leave, Mom. We don’t need to stay here. We can get a little apartment and—”
“Stop it, Rae,” she said quietly but firmly. “I’m not leaving him. I need him.”
I was astounded that she actually believed she needed him. “For what, Mom? To make you feel like a piece of garbage? To take all our money and spend it on God-knows-what? To—”
She stood up, her jaw set and her face red. “Stop it! Just stop it! You don’t understand. It’s complicated!”
I stood up to face her. I wasn’t going to let her off this time. She had to see the truth: We’d be better off without him. “It is not complicated. It’s so simple, I can spell it out for you. He’s a jerk with a capital J and he gives you absolutely nothing. Not even love, Mom. Don’t you see that? He gives you nothing!”
“I said, stop it!” she yelled. “You don’t understand!”
“Then explain it to me. Why won’t you leave?”
“Because he’ll hurt us,” she cried, her voice shaking as tears ran down her face. “He’s told me at least a hundred times. If we leave, he’ll find us. Don’t you see? We can’t leave.”
Her whole body trembled. I held her and tried to calm her. My words came out softer now. “Mom, that’s just his sick way of making you stay. Would he be mad if we left? Yes. But he wouldn’t try to hunt us down like wild animals.”
Her eyes, big and round, stared into mine. And before she could respond, I knew it was a lost cause. Nothing I might say would change her mind.
“He would,” she whispered. “He’s told me the things he’d do to you, and to me, if we left. And, Rae, I believe him.”
She stepped back, twisted her torso, and pulled up her sweatshirt, revealing an ugly purple and green bruise, the size of a baseball, on her lower back.
My mouth dropped open as I stared in disgust at the secret she’d been hiding. I wondered how long it’d been going on. Were there others I couldn’t see?
“Sweet mother-of-pearl, what are we doing here?” I cried.
She didn’t respond, just sulked off to her room, leaving me there, angry and confused.
that was close
MOM SHOULD HAVE LISTENED TO ME. WE SHOULD HAVE LEFT while Dean was gone.
That’s what I kept thinking as they argued at two o’clock in the morning. She kept asking him where he’d been. He kept telling her it wasn’t any of her business. She tried to tell him it was her business because he took her car and her money. He told her to shut up, shut up, SHUT THE HELL UP, making Mom cry.
Yeah, I got a lot of sleep that night. What was he doing with all our money? So many scenarios ran through my brain, and not one was good.
I felt like a zombie the next day. An empty shell. Like someone had reached inside me and ripped out my heart.
Most days I managed to leave the darkness behind me. It stayed at home, confined to those ugly walls. Because, unlike my mother, I knew the world was a bright and colorful place, and I wanted to enjoy it.
But that day the darkness followed me. It followed me to my truck. Rode with me to school. I was too tired to shake it. Too worn out to tell it to leave me alone and bother someone else. I think Nathan must have known he was approaching both of us that morning, the darkness and me.
I walked across the gravel parking lot, kicking rocks as I went. It started to rain. The five-minute bell rang. One guy across the lot started running. I would be late if I didn’t speed up, but I kept walking at the same, slow pace. That’s what darkness does to a person. You don’t care about anything.
“Hey, Rae.” I hadn’t seen Nathan approach me. He was just . . . there.
I looked up at him. He still had the scruffy little beard. The mustache. The ugly, long hair. “You look different,” is all I could think of to say.
“I know.”
It started to rain harder. We both ignored it. I spun my ring on my finger as I said, “That was a nice poem you wrote about me.”