“Huh?” This was all I could come up with feeling so spent and empty from my cry and the realization at how ridiculously I had spent my year. “What are you talking about? I have to work. My parents would never let me do that.”
“I’ve already spoken with your mother. Her heart is breaking over what you’ve been doing to yourself and she will talk with you father about letting you attend.”
“Really? Really? You mean it? I am definitely interested. It sounds pretty cool.” Could this be my saving grace? Bless Sister M for caring enough to not let me go off the deep end.
“Take this brochure home to you parents. It’s not that expensive and I can recommend you for Admissions.” She held out a brightly colored pamphlet that said, Spend Your Summer Getting Ahead!
Definitely what I needed to turn things around. I raced home, gave my mother the brochure and the first hug in a long time, and started dreaming about summer college!
Two weeks later, I sat in Mrs. Brennan’s Journalism 101 for High School Students and began my new journey with words. She taught us first-person writing, third-person objective articles, slanting to persuade, opinion letters, fluff articles, human interest pieces. I was hooked. Five hours a day we wrote, eventually creating newspaper worthy articles that got published on the Asbury Park Press’ teen page. I had a byline! I was stoked!
Three weeks in the graphics workshop turned my world around 180 degrees. I got to use my very own semi-professional camera and combed the local streets taking snapshot after snapshot of people, places and things that were just slightly off center. The unusual, the challenging, the problems became the focus of my photographer’s eye and earned me high praise from my instructor, Mr. Pulsinelli. I guess the “marching to the beat of a different drummer” was still in my blood and turned up creatively in my photos.
Mr. P entered my photos in contests and submitted them to the local newspapers. By the end of the six weeks, I cried to leave these two mentors who transformed me into a writer with a byline and a photographer with published credits.
I finished out my summer cleaning motel rooms. Lena was gone, retired I guess, and I worked with a really nice lady named Lilly who treated me like her daughter. I moved into an attitude of thankfulness that without Sister M, my parents, my workshop instructors and Lilly’s friendship, I would not have been able to save myself that summer.
I grew in confidence because I saw that I could change- that it’s never too late to redeem myself and make my life better and happier all by myself. I learned to depend on my talents, my abilities and ME and started to shine a light like never before. It was better than all the drinking and fake stuff I tried to find my happiness in.
And I was happy. I’m the one who did it too. I didn’t need Jame to make me happy. I was gonna be all right!
I returned to OLOS with a junior year “Cath’s Excellence Plan”:
Buckle down in my academic classes to get into a good journalism college.
Wear my new studious-looking glasses more so teachers and fellow students would take me seriously after my wasted sophomore year.
No dating anyone. I was a journalist and photographer now, not someone’s drunken bimbo.
Make friends with Maddie and the “good girls” again and lose my party girl rep.
Submit articles and photos to all the local newspapers and magazines. I didn’t care about earning any money for it, just wanted to collect the bylines and photo credits.
Be editor of the OLOS school newspaper and head photographer for the yearbook.
Not let Jame affect me ever again.
I planted the seeds to my Excellence Plan the week before school started. I hung out with Maddie and her other friends again without the teeny bikinis or foul mouth I had used as my party girl props.
I met with the editor of the Press’ teen page, Mr. Singer, and struck up a deal: I would submit one article a week on teen issues and if he deemed it worthy, he’d use most of them. Plus he would be my mentor on my photos, pointing out topics that needed a new slant. He would send them on to other section editors if they were good enough.
I was SET! I was PSYCHED! Sept. 5th couldn’t come soon enough to start my new reinvented junior OLOS life! Nothing could stop me now.
Until I walked into my four of my classes that first day and Jame was in each one of them.
Chapter 13
I barely had enough energy to take off my running clothes and get into the shower. The cascading water was not comforting on my skin that felt too tight for my body. I finally understood the “pins and needles” thing because that’s the way I felt- that my skin was being pricked in a thousand places.
I made it really hot and then blasted myself with total cold, trying in vain to stop feeling…to stop sensing the tsunami coming into my life.
I knew Jame or at least I knew him years ago. He always finished things. He never stopped until the final effort was spent. He was tenacious, keeping up the battle for right over wrong in all he said and did. And now I was afraid that I was going to be on the receiving end of this quality I used to admire and now found nauseatingly frightening.
I had to stop thinking about the photos.
Chapter 14
29 Years Ago - Our Lady
of Sorrows High School
First period junior English 3 Honors class! Exactly as I wanted- right at the beginning of my day when I was fresh and ready to go! I walked in and was overjoyed that Sister James Elizabeth stood there propped against the desk same as she was when I had her in freshman English class. BINGO! She didn’t see me at my destructive worst last year and already loved my style of writing.
I knew she would support and help critique my Press newspaper articles and she was the advisor for the OLOS Crimson Times and my stepping-stone to editor! The perfect start to a perfect first day of school.
I went to take my usual seat at the back of the room but remembered my Excellence Plan quickly and slid into the first seat middle row right in front of Sister’s desk. She gave me a toothy smile and turned back to talk with the tall boy by the side of her desk that looked vaguely familiar.
Jame swung around to put his books on the desk next to mine. He must have grown four inches since I last paid any attention to him and he was muscled and filled out from another summer of non-stop basketball I guess. His eyes focused on mine and he gave a little start.
“Um, hi Cath. How are you?” He had already committed to that desk and it probably would have looked funny now that the class had filled up for him to walk to the back of the room in order to avoid sitting next to me. Oh boy.
“Hey Jame, how ya doing?” I quickly opened up my brand new English lit book, took out my notebook and slipped on my studious-student glasses. Mercifully Sister clapped her hands to begin class and all eyes went to her.
I had to remind myself to breathe. Why was I having such a crazy feeling deep in the pit of my stomach? I was so over him, still angry and hurt but determined that he would never know how much I ruined my life over him. I don’t need a boy to make me act so crazy. I found ME this past summer and my feelings or rather my non-feelings about Jame would not affect that, I vowed!
The class passed quickly. I picked up my books and ran out into the hall. Maddie was there waiting for me. I was so happy to see her!
“Save me, Maddie. Walk this way.” I grabbed her arm and pulled her down the hall in the direction of the lockers.
“Hey, I don’t need to go to my locker. My class is the other waaaay….OH MY GOD is that Jame Patterson? Cath, he looks GORGEOUS! I’m going to talk with him. You don’t care do you?” Maddie, the traitor, turned right around, rolled her skirt up a little shorter and called out to Jame. He turned to her with a big smile on his face.
That was it! Maybe being friends with Maddie again wasn’t such a good idea if I couldn’t count on her to choose sides. Oh wait- there were no sides. I wasn’t interested in Jame like that anymore. She could have him if she wants. I could care less.
&
nbsp; I slunk behind two freshmen as I slipped past Jame and Maddie laughing it up about something. Second period was my dreaded class- Chemistry Honors with the witch Mrs. Burns. She scared the heck out of every student in her many years at OLOS and was wringing her hands in anticipation of the ones she would shred into little pieces this year because they didn’t get their chem formulas right.
This time we all waited in the back of the class because the word was out- Mrs. Burns sits you alphabetically and you stayed in that seat the entire year. Your lab partner is alphabetical too and heaven help the kid who complained about any of it. We had been warned to keep our mouths shut. OK, that fit with my Excellence Plan.
“Catherine Monahan,” Mrs. Burns pointed for me to sit in the fourth seat, fifth row by the window. All right, not too bad. I wasn’t right in front of her for random pick-ons but I wasn’t too far back where I couldn’t see the board. So far so good.
“James Patterson, stop flirting with the girl in the hall and sit right there.” Mrs. Burns pointed to the seat behind mine. What? No way! How could this be? Why, why, why, God????
Jame took one look at his designated seat behind me and cleared his throat. “Mrs. Burns, could I sit in the last desk in the row? It has more room for my legs.”
Mrs. Burns looked at Jame like he had asked her to jump out the window.
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Patterson. Did you refuse to sit in your seat in my class?”
“Um, no Mrs. Burns, I didn’t.” Jame walked over and sat down behind me
Everyone in the class was watching this drama play out. Jame had dared to confront the witch and ask for a different seat. Unheard of! I buried my face in my chem book and tried to be very small.
I heard Jame sigh as he sat behind me, and continued to hear him breathe for the next 45 minutes. I couldn’t concentrate on anything else. Chemistry was now more dreaded than ever. How would I survive it?
Gym class came next, which is usually a free and easy class with Mr. Hoffman. He showed us our lockers, and he handed out the rules and regulations of the class and his grading system. Just as we were getting ready to play a little badminton, in walks Jame with a class change sheet in his hand.
Marymotherofbabyjesus can’t I get a break here? How can I follow my Excellence Plan this year when HE was all around me? I didn’t want to be reminded daily of how much I had messed up my life because of this boy. I needed to get my grades up high…to get into the best journalism college…to get out of here and get famous!
He walked over to Mr. Hoffman who seemed to gloat over the fact that Jame, the super jammer basketball star of OLOS was going to be in his gym class. He spent the rest of the period talking to Jame about his summer basketball games and the varsity’s chance to get to the playoffs. Mr. Hoffman ignored the rest of us, which was fine by me because I hated badminton and I cut out early.
I caught up with Maddie in the cafeteria after a wonderful French 3 class without Jame Patterson in it. I felt like a new person!
Maddie had saved me a seat at her table that also included her steady boyfriend David- yes, the same one from freshman year. Who knew that they would stay together all this time? So I guess that flirt with Jame in the hall earlier wasn’t what it seemed. Oh, why did I care anyway?
“Cath! Trade me your banana for my apple. I can’t eat this with my braces. Thank God they’re coming off in a few weeks. Right, David?” She gave him a wink
“Yeah, Mad, I’m really getting tired of your braces. Know what I mean, Cath? Ha ha!” Yes, David you are so funny in reminding me all about yours and Maddie’s tongue/kissing episodes that she’s told me about in great detail.
“Cath, did you see Jame? I mean, he’s all so cute and tall and big muscles! If it wasn’t for you, David, I’d go after him!” Maddie nudged David and snuck him a quick kiss.
“Yes I saw him, Mads. He’s in my first three classes! Yuck!”
“What do you mean yuck? It’s good. You can get back together with him!”
“No way, no how, Maddie. Don’t even think that. I have to study this year,” I told her in no uncertain terms.
“Yeah, but you’re not dead.”
What Maddie meant by that I don’t know. But as I saw Jame come in the front door of the cafeteria, I slipped out the back to go visit Sister Margarita, my savior and friend.
“Hey, Sister M!” Wow, was I happy to see her and breathe in all those heavenly smells of the art studio. I felt like I was home.
“Cath! Oh, I’m so glad you’re here. You’re in my seventh period class too.” Her smile was so warm and inviting. I knew I had a forever-connection with this woman who understood me probably better than I understood myself.
“I just wanted to thank you for getting me into the summer college program. It was the best!”
“Well, I did think you would get some benefit out of it, Cath. “
“I learned so much about writing! I want to be a journalist and write for big newspapers or magazines or even television news shows! And I can still keep up with my art and photography too. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have known that. I appreciate all you did.” I didn’t want to get too sappy, but she really did help me see my future instead of throwing it away on drinking and stupid boys. She helped me find some value in my life again.
“Great, now scoot to your next class and I’ll see you seventh period.”
Sixth period was Journalism with Mr. Goldberg who used to work for a newspaper but now was going to law school at night. I looked forward to showing him what I had learned this summer and to have his help with my articles.
My seventh class passed in a dream with my hands getting all smudged in charcoal again and claiming my usual seat at the art studio table where I’ve sat and created for the last two years. I wanted to prove myself again to Sister M and show her in my artwork that I had grown up a lot. Except for having Jame in my first three classes, the rest of the day went fine and I felt like I could breathe again.
My last class was math. Now, I’m not a great math student but I can hold my own. At least I do better in math than in science. My junior year math was pre-calculus. I was a little nervous because I blew off a bit of the Algebra 2 last year in what I was now calling my “lost year.” But I was confident that I could catch myself up and forge ahead.
Jesusmaryandjoseph! Not again! There sat Jame in my eighth period pre-calculus room carrying on a conversation with Sister Jeremiah. I shook my head, let out a deep breath and sat as far away from him as I could.
That day I vowed to avoid Jame Patterson forever and ever.
Chapter 15
I was afraid to leave the house. I worried that Jame was stalking me in the bushes, waiting for me to come out of my house where he could pounce again with his lunatic demands.
I walked around my house unable to write, unable to think, unable to breathe even.
I plotted my possible escape. I called both my daughters twice just to hear their voice on their voice mail. I felt adrift, untethered from my safe anchor- the life I built with my girls and my dreams.
And I prayed. Lord, I prayed- for my sanity, for forgiveness, for peace. I did not want this volcanic eruption in my neat and orderly life. I need silence in my head and heart.
That day I vowed to avoid Jame Patterson forever and ever.
Chapter 16
29 Years Ago - Our Lady
of Sorrows High School
The fourth day of junior year started off badly. My bus from Pleasantville was so late I wound up running up two flights of stairs to my locker and first period English class. Then my locker got stuck.
Marymotherofgod, come on locker! I kicked the bottom and it sprung open. I grabbed my English lit book while juggling three other heavy books on my other arm. Slamming my locker, I spun around to sprint to English when all my books flew out of my arms and onto the floor.
Notebooks, loose papers and heavy textbooks spread out in a huge circle.
Jesusmaryandsaintjoseph help me I pra
yed as I dropped to my knees to gather up my mess as the hallway emptied.
A tall body in brown pants folded itself next to me and asked, “You need help, Cath?”
A sarcastic remark almost escaped my lips when I realized it was Jame on his knees with me methodically slipping my papers back into my books and holding them out for me.
“Th-thanks, Jame. I didn’t mean to do this,” I stuttered as his face came closer to mine.
He touched my arm, which sizzled right through my blazer jacket. “It’s OK, Cath. We’re not that late. I’ll help you.”
Oh nooooooooo. “WE” he said. That did it. He snuck right back into my heart through my arm! Now what would I do?
Missing Pieces of My Forever-Heart Page 3
