Redwood and Ponytail
Page 4
Alex
Alyx
Alexx
Starving.
Dehydrated.
Lost in a desert.
Wild eyes.
Desperate.
Searching, searching.
Our Redwood.
Our Ponytail.
An oasis in the hall.
Finds sustenance.
Quenches her thirst.
Eyes meet.
Catastrophe averted.
Breathes deep.
All is well again.
Kate
Hey, stranger,
my mouth says
before my brain even knows I’m talking.
I see you weren’t abducted by aliens,
so,
whew.
Her head whips around,
she looks down
at me,
smiles
at me,
slams her locker
like an exclamation point.
Nah.
Had to fight off some giant
robots, though.
Well, I’m glad you survived.
Me, too.
Her smile is crooked,
the left side higher,
like it knows something the right side
doesn’t.
Maybe we should walk to class
together?
In case the robots come back?
And you’ll be my protector?
Um, of course.
I flex my arms.
She laughs.
I’ll protect you all the way to class.
I think maybe the robots
are controlling me
because what am I even saying?
TAM
Everyone says,
Hey, Tam! or
What’s up, girl! or
Hey, nerd!
to me
as we walk by,
and I give out
all the
high fives.
Kate says hi
to everyone,
How’s it going, Daniel? and
Hey, Sofie, and
I like that shirt, Grace,
as we walk by
and they all smile
like . . . I don’t even know.
And it’s so funny, right?
That she knows everyone,
and everyone knows me,
and somehow it took this long
for the two of us to meet?
Kate
TAM
My mouth does the thing again,
talking before I think,
She surprises me again, saying,
You’re going to the game?
Right?
She makes a face like,
Hello, crazy,
Is there anything else to do
on a Thursday night?
I make a face, because
the Falcons were one game shy
of winning last year’s
championship, so
duh
of course I’ll be there,
everyone in town
will be there.
Fly, Falcons, fly!
I link my thumbs,
make my hands into wings.
Ever watched the cheerleaders?
During the game?
I have not once ever
even thought about
cheerleaders
while watching
a game.
Um. Maybe?
Whoa, whoa, whoa.
We’re the best part!
And you don’t watch?!
Well, now we can’t be friends.
My eyebrows go sky high.
Her eyebrows go sky high.
I smile.
Just a joke.
She smiles.
What a turd.
Come sit by our bench,
watch me cheer . . .
and watch the game
if you have to.
Watch her cheer?
I start to laugh
because THAT
is the funniest thing
I’ve ever heard.
Watching flips and yells
instead of catches and runs?
Except.
I think about watching her
smile and cheer and clap
and yell,
I think about that ponytail
spinning like fireworks
and . . .
Okay. Fine.
And WHAT am I even saying?!
Okay?! Fine?!
I’ll give it a go.
But I make no promises I’ll—
Yay! Yes! You’re going to love it.
Oh, will I?
You’re going to.
I promise.
Promise, huh?
I smile.
She smiles.
I smile.
She smiles.
Whoa.
Whoa.
TAM
Am I really going
to sit by the cheer bench?
With the moms
and the wannabes?
Instead of with the noisy crowd?
What if I get distracted?
Miss a sack?
Lose track
of the score?
But . . .
Kate asked me to.
Kate wants me to.
Ponytail was very
insistent,
and I guess . . .
what can it hurt?
I bet if I ask,
Levi will sit with me.
At least at first.
Kate
Is she really coming
to the game?
Did I just ask-blurt that?
Why does it make me nervous?
Games don’t make me nervous.
Nothing makes me nervous.
Except . . .
should I tell her I’ll be hidden
under a giant falcon head?
Is she expecting to actually see, uh,
me?
Or does she even care?
And why
have I
just spent
ten minutes
worrying about this?
OMG.
Kate
If you want,
you can meet me at my house
tonight,
and we’ll go over
together.
I’ll get you a good seat
so you can see the game
and, um,
me.
My mouth keeps talking
and I keep wondering
why I’m saying these things.
Bring someone with me?
When I should be focusing?
Prepping for the game?
Mom is going to freak.
TAM
Okay.
Sure.
Cool.
And now I’m going to the game
with a cheerleader
and sitting behind the cheer bench
and
what
is
even
happening.
Robots must be
for real controlling me.
TAM
Exactly five minutes
is how long I have
to shower
change
run to Kate’s
so I can get a ride
to the game.
Why don’t I
drive you to the game?
Mom shouts through
my closed door
but no
I don’t want her to drive me.
I said yes to Kate
and I will go with Kate
and hopefully I won’t be late
because argh
my hair
it looks so stupid
and this baggy shirt . . .
way extra dorky
and WHO AM I
worrying about these things?
Breathe, Tam.
> Just brush your hair,
forget about the shirt,
and go.
Jeez.
It’s only a football game.
Only a football game?!
Seriously.
Who
am
I
?
Kate
Watching Mom is kind of fun
as she almost blows a gasket
looking at her watch
and at me
and the door to the garage
and back at her watch.
You’d think she
was the one
about to be late,
about to be yelled at.
She clears her throat.
I shrug.
I know Tam will be here.
I know she will.
The knock at the door,
a quick tap tap tap
reveals her,
out of breath
her smile big . . .
a little too big.
I laugh
and laugh
and laugh.
Hey.
Hey.
You made it.
I made it.
Your shirt’s on
backwards.
Her eyes jump wide,
she looks down at her chest
starts to giggle.
Come on.
You can fix it in my room.
Mom looks at her watch.
Frowns.
Mom looks at Tam.
Frowns.
I march us
upward
out of here.
TAM
A small bookshelf in her room,
perfectly made bed,
perfectly clean desk,
perfectly perfect
everything.
I take a book off the shelf.
It feels brand new.
The dust jacket slides
in my hand.
If you were a book,
what would your dust jacket say?
Her face, her eyes,
they both smile
as she tilts her head
to the side:
What do you mean?
Your story,
I say,
tapping the book.
How would I judge your cover?
Hmmm.
She twirls in a circle
once,
twice,
flops on the bed.
It would say:
Here lies Kate,
the smartest, most beautiful girl
who was the best at everything
but still a nice person
because that’s important, too.
I laugh.
I think that was a
gravestone
not a dust jacket.
Close enough!
What would yours say?
Gravestone?
Or dust jacket?
Either.
Hmmm.
She sits up and watches me,
really stares,
dark eyes
sparkling.
Tam lives on a shelf
all her own.
We both laugh.
Girls! Hurry up!
TAM
Book back on shelf,
I pull my arms into my shirt,
spinning it around,
sticking my arms out again.
Grinning faces accost me
from the wall behind her door.
You can’t possibly like them.
Who?
MisDirection?
I point at the poster.
Maybe I pretend to gag.
A little.
The worst boy band of all time?
Shut up.
She throws a sock at me.
They’re cute.
AND we’re going to their show
for my birthday.
The whole squad.
We have an MDOMG countdown clock
and everything.
I pretend to throw up.
But I also laugh.
She throws her other sock.
I duck.
The music is catchy.
Catchy like the flu.
I walk over to the poster,
peer into all the eyes
peering back.
You know what?
They kind of look like girls.
They do not!
We both look at the poster
for a minute
then I throw the socks back at her
wham bam
and she laughs,
a sound I’m beginning
to want to hear
every second
of every day.
Girls! What’s taking
so long?
Kate
The look on her face
when I pull the giant falcon head
out of my closet
along with the wings
and the big
yellow
feet.
Hahahaha.
I put on the head,
bobble around.
Tam laughs and laughs
until Mom stands in the doorway
tapping her watch,
chewing her frown.
Let’s get going, girls.
Katherine can’t be late.
Mom continues to hate
the falcon head
but I don’t want to fight about it
today.
TAM
No one can see your pretty face
inside that thing.
That’s what Kate’s mom said to her
when she thought I wasn’t listening.
You can’t be captain of the squad
and a cartoon character
at the same time,
come on, sweetheart.
Her words came out pointed.
Sharp.
Stabbing darts.
Have some self-respect.
You don’t want to be like Jill.
Let someone else be a goofball
so you can shine.
I heard it all
through the bathroom door
just before
I burst out,
caught Kate’s eyes with mine.
What did my eyes say to her?
I’m not sure.
Maybe something like,
Yikes,
and
Who’s Jill?
What did her eyes say to mine?
I’m not sure.
Maybe something like,
I’ll tell you later,
and
Moms. Ugh.
TAM
Tingling skull
just above my neck
the kind of feeling
that makes a kid sweat
like a whisper
a threat
a realization
a thought
a hit
to the brain,
thinking
maybe I shouldn’t be here,
maybe I don’t know Kate at all,
maybe her mom knows that, too,
I don’t know
it’s the way her mom looks at me
up and down
and down and up,
frown curling.
This place,
this house,
so clean,