Read My Heart

by Tucker, RH

  I haven’t been in a library in ages. I look around, seeing rows and rows of books. At the front desk sits a middle-aged lady, scanning a stack.

  “Excuse me,” I whisper, approaching the counter.

  “Hi, how can I help you?”

  “Yeah …” I look around. How do I ask this? “I’m looking for the room that … they have classes or something here?”

  She gives me a confused stare. “There are a number of study groups and class labs that the library holds. Are you looking for one in particular?”

  I roll my eyes at myself, shaking my head. “Yeah … it’s a … reading class?”

  “Reading?”

  “Yeah. I think. It’s for, uh, adults.”

  “Oh, the ALC group.”

  “ALC?”

  “Yes, it’s the group that meets here for the Adult Learning Class. It’s room 402. You go down that way, then turn left into the hallway.”

  I flinch. Not because she gives me a stare or looks at me like I’m strange for asking about it. But because she says it so matter-of-factly, without hesitation, and goes back to her business of scanning books.

  “Thanks.”

  Making my way toward the room, I feel my stomach bubbling up with nerves, but they cease as I enter the room. It’s large, nothing like a classroom that I’m used to seeing, but similar to a conference room. Three long tables sit in the middle with only a few people sitting there, reading books. Off to the side is a girl who smiles at me and walks over.

  “Hi,” she says, offering her hand. “Are you a new sign up?”

  “Not really. I’m sort of just looking, I guess.”

  “Oh, okay. I’m Julie. Did you have any questions?”

  I scan the room and the three people in it pay no attention to me. “I don’t know. I read about it online. It’s not part of the college, right?”

  “It’s sponsored by Irvine Community, but it doesn’t affect your GPA or anything like that. And it’s run different than other adult education courses. It’s a four-week program, and at the end you receive a certificate of completion. Do you have a GED?”

  “Yeah, I have a diploma from high school, but … yeah. I’m …” I scan the room again, feeling the nerves creep back up. “I’m dyslexic. So, yeah.”

  She nods. “Okay, we’ve had a lot of people in the class with that challenge. You can do most of the course at home, but the instructor asks that you check in once a week. At the end of the course, you’ll be given a written exam, and upon completion, a certificate. After that you can sign up for the next level if you like. A lot of the students take the class multiple times.”

  “Oh, you’re not the instructor?”

  She giggles. She’s cute, with short brown hair and amber eyes. “No, I’m just a TA. I’m here for another hour, and then a different teacher’s assistant will take over for the last two hours. This room is always open to study in every weeknight between six and ten.”

  “All right.”

  “Did you want to sign up?”

  Another scan of the room and I bite my lip. Why am I doing this? For Cindy? We’re not even together anymore. And when we are together, it’s always up and down with her. I know that’s my fault because I shut this part of myself off from her. I don’t know if I’ve screwed it up enough times that we’ll never get together again, but what about the future? Am I going to do the same thing with any other girl I go out with? Then where will I end up? Lucas’ words ring in my head again.

  “Yeah, you know what?” I nod. “I do.”

  Chapter 4

  Cindy

  It’s another slow night in the library. When I signed up for the teacher’s assistant duties, I knew it’d be slow, so I made sure my phone is charged. Thirty more minutes, then Joe’s picking me up for our date, and we’re going to the movies. He’s always seemed nice enough, so I guess a movie is a good first date.

  I notice a lady waving me over, so I head to where she’s sitting at the table. “I don’t understand this.” She points to a paragraph in her book.

  This adult reading and spelling course is interesting. Yesterday was my first night and there was only one person in here when I took over for Julie. Tonight, there was four when I started, but only two remain.

  Taking a seat next to her, I can tell she’s middle-aged, with a few wrinkles at her eyes. I knew about this course even before I started taking classes at Irvine Community. I’m not an English major, but I know enough that when my biology professor told our class there was this opening, I decided to take it. I guess not a lot of students want to help adults who struggle with reading and writing, when they could be out having fun during primetime hours. The other person in the room looks maybe a few years older than me. Regardless of their ages, I’m sure it can’t be easy trying to learn this stuff on their own. It’s kind of inspiring.

  Smiling, she nods as I go over the sentence structure, then continues copying the sentence into her notebook. I wonder what she’s doing this for. Herself? To try and get a better job? Does she have kids, and wants to be able to read to them?

  I swallow the lump of emotion as the thoughts bring me back to my mom. Dad’s working today, so that means it’s a good day. At least, for me. Which sounds completely selfish, because I’m sure he doesn’t forget the fact that she left us a week after I graduated, telling him she wasn’t happy. That she hadn’t been happy for a very long time.

  I remember her reading to me. Going to my student of the month awards in middle school. Being there on my graduation day. All the while, side by side with my father, hand in hand. They’re complete opposites; my dad is originally from Ohio, and though my mom was born in Seattle, my grandparents are emigrants from South Korea. Different tastes in music, and he likes veggies while she can’t stand them, but they always seemed in love.

  I wonder how long she was unhappy. When she left, she told me it wasn’t my fault. That it wasn’t even my dad’s fault, but how could it not be? We weren’t enough for her? And then, not even a month later, she asks for me to meet her for lunch, outside of her office, telling me so I wouldn’t hear it from someone else—she was already seeing someone. I got up and walked away without a word. I barely talk to her now. And my dad seems like he’ll never recover.

  Breaking my thoughts, Joe walks into the room, waving over to me.

  “Hey,” I whisper to him.

  “What is this class?” He looks around. “I thought you said you were TAing?”

  “It is, in a way. It’s an ALC. It’s not as involved as being an actual TA for a college class, but I still get the extra credit. It’s pretty easy.”

  “Oh.” He scans the room again. “So, you help people read? That’s kinda lame.”

  I slap his arm. “I’m helping people learn, Mr. Dean’s List. Don’t judge.”

  Cracking the dimpled smirk, he nudges me. “I’m not. Anyway, what’d you want to see tonight? I was thinking The Fall of Achilles.”

  “Blah,” I offer a humorous, quiet gag. “I’m so over action movies. What about Once Through the Sky?”

  “A chick-flick? Really?”

  I scoff. “It looks good.”

  “Fine.” He rolls his eyes. “First date, so you get the say this time. Don’t be mad if I fall asleep though.”

  “With that attitude, this might be our only date,” I snark back.

  He cocks an eyebrow. “We’ll see about that.”

  * * *

  It’s halfway through the movie and I’m annoyed. Look, I’m not someone who likes to be waited on hand and foot, but I do know good etiquette when it comes to dates, and Joe hasn’t offered any of that. We know one another from class already, so maybe there’s that comfort level between us; a feeling that doesn’t make tonight seem more nervous than usual for a first date. Regardless, it’s the little things that are bugging me.

  Or maybe I haven’t been out with someone other than Jackson, and I’m comparing the two. Which I shouldn’t do. Because Jackson is an ass.

&n
bsp; With that said, he always opened his car door for me. The first couple times it was cute, but when I told him he didn’t need do that, he’d just laugh it off and do it anyway. Joe didn’t do that when we left the library, walking toward his cherry red Ford Mustang, or as we were entering the theater. Walking straight ahead, he proceeded to the concession stand, leaving me behind.

  That’s where I grew a little more aggravated. His parents are doctors, which is something I learned we have in common when we met during our class. While my father’s a cardiologist, his is one of the most sought-after plastic surgeons in the Los Angeles area.

  It struck me as odd that he’s going to community, since he’s obviously well off enough to go to school anywhere he wants. He explained earlier in the semester that he wanted to backpack through Europe, but his father told him he needed a year of school first. Instead of enrolling at some prestigious university, he said, and I quote, “So I decided to vacation for a year with these dumb classes, before my old man gives me some money for my trip.”

  All of that is to say, his attitude at the concession stand is beyond arrogant. It’s like he’s talking down to people who are working behind the desk. I’ve seen it before. I’ve hung out with kids whose parents worked with mine, who were afforded most of the same things I’ve been afforded and believe they’re better than other people. I think the only reason I’m not like that is because my dad had to work incredibly hard to get into medical school, and my mom never let me forget that nothing replaces hard work. That’s one thing I guess I can thank her for.

  “No butter!” Joe says, shoving the popcorn back at the concession server. He turns to me, handing me his black American Express card. “Go ahead and get whatever you want, I gotta take a leak.”

  Without another word, he walks off, and I look over at the server, offering a weak smile. “Sorry.”

  And now I’m fully annoyed as we sit halfway through the movie. When we first sat down, I thought he might try to pull one of those arm-over-the-shoulder-yawn things. Or he’d try to feel me up or start making out. None of that happened. Instead, he fell asleep five minutes into the movie.

  It’s a romantic comedy, so I get that it’s probably not his thing. But five minutes in? Seriously? So, as we’re driving back to the student parking lot, where I left my car, I’m quiet.

  “How’d you like the movie?” he asks.

  “Oh, it was good.” I glance over at him. “It would’ve been better if my date hadn’t slept through it, but you know, whatevs.”

  He scoffs with a laugh. “Oh, come on. I told you I was probably going to do that.” Reaching over, he laces his fingers through mine. “Are you seriously mad at me?”

  I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe. I just haven’t been on an actual date in a while, so maybe that’s it.”

  “That’s a tragedy.” He laughs. “How about a do over? Tomorrow night.”

  Peaking an eyebrow, I glance at him. ‘What’d you have in mind?”

  “Well, I have this bowling thing with my dad. One of the surgeons in his office had to quit their bowling team a couple weeks ago, so I’ve been filling in for the rest of the season. But after that we can hang out.”

  “Wait, bowling? Like, an old man’s league?” I ask with a chuckle.

  “Yeah, I guess. His team is called the Doctors of Destruction.” He laughs, pulling into the parking lot, and stopping next to my car.

  “I guess that could be fun. Maybe I can invite my friend and we can just hang out there afterward and play a couple of games ourselves.”

  “Sure.”

  He leans in closer, but I grab the door handle, and step out of the car. Looking back, he stares up at me, smirking. He’s probably thinking I’m playing hard to get. I’m not. I have wondered if he’s a good kisser, even tonight. But I don’t know if I actually want to kiss him.

  “Meet you there at the bowling alley?” he asks.

  “Yeah, I’ll meet you there.”

  Another smirk and then he drives off. I bite my lip, looking at my car door. I know my dad isn’t home yet. I glance back at Joe’s taillights, now halfway down the street. The first time Jackson dropped me off at home, he waited until I got inside, then immediately called me, laughing, making sure there wasn’t a serial killer inside of my house.

  I need to stop thinking about that ass. As funny and cute as that night was, he still flaked out on me more times than I’d like to remember. The bowling game could be a good, new starting point for me.

  Chapter 5

  Jackson

  “Swipe right!” I laugh, pushing Alex’s shoulder.

  He chuckles back, following my direction. “She’s cute.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I answer, grabbing a nacho from the large plate sitting in front of us.

  Alex works with his dad at a pizza restaurant called Pizza Castle. It’s a small restaurant that his parents have owned for years, which caters mostly toward kids and the family market. He went to a different school than me, but this is the third season playing in my dad’s bowling league with Alex and his dad. Since they own a pizza place, and my dad has a deli that makes sandwiches, they’ve called their team “Subs n’ Slices”. Cheesy, but it’s a fun time. Alex seems cool, and if he had gone to high school with me, I could’ve easily seen us hanging out.

  The bowling league, as lame as I thought it was going to be when my dad asked if I’d play, is actually pretty fun. I’m not going pro anytime soon, but it’s cool to hang out, eat nachos, and relax for a bit.

  “Don’t get your fingers all greasy,” my dad reprimands me with a smirk. “We don’t want another mishap like last week.”

  Alex nearly spits out his water, laughing.

  “Shut up,” I call out to him, chuckling myself. “At least I didn’t get penalized by sliding my foot over the line.” I stare at Alex.

  “Oh, yeah. Because getting a penalty is so much worse than you throwing your ball into some little girl’s lane.”

  We all laugh again, and I grab another nacho, shrugging my shoulders. The rest of the bowling teams all hang around, with minutes to go before the games start. Our opponents all look like they mean business, which is a common sight. A lot of these teams take this league very seriously. My dad got us all matching T-shirts, but they’re basically black shirts with our names ironed on the front in yellow. The team we’re facing have actual bowling shirts made, red and white pinstripes, with not only their team name emblazoned on the front, but each of their last names on the back.

  Off in the distance, the doors to the alley slide open, and I see Veronica walking in with Micah next to her. An anxious mound begins to build inside at the sight of them. Micah’s always seemed like a cool guy, even if I haven’t hung out with him much. He’s not why I’m growing nervous though. My eyes dart around, searching for her. Could Veronica and Micah really have shown up without her? Veronica’s her best friend, but maybe this is a date night for them. Maybe Cindy isn’t here.

  My fears are realized as they continue walking and I see Cindy behind them, laughing.

  “Shit,” I spin around, staring at the ground.

  Alex stands up, looking over my shoulder. “Uh-oh.” He chuckles. “Do I need to cause a diversion? Which one is it, the redhead playing Dance Dance Revolution? She seems a bit young for you.”

  “No!” I push him, and he laughs louder. “It’s just this girl I’ve gone out with.”

  “For how long? Like a girlfriend?”

  “Not really. Well … kind of, but … it’s complicated.”

  Glancing back at them again, my stomach drops as Veronica sees me and starts waving. “Hey, Jackson!”

  She’s all smiles and it makes me cringe because Cindy’s head immediately shoots up, looking over her shoulder. Veronica recoils instantly, realizing what this means, and looks back at her friend.

  “Damn it.” I let out a deep breath. “I guess there’s no hiding now.”

  “Alex, you’re up first!” Alex’s dad calls out.

&nb
sp; “Joe, you’re late,” an older man on the opposing team we’re facing calls out.

  Looking over to see who he’s talking to, I scowl. Cindy’s walking next to a tall, clean-cut guy who nods over at the guy in the white and red pinstripes.

  “Yeah, sorry, Pop.”

  My eyes dart around, surveying the situation, and I can see Cindy doing the same thing. Joe walks over, embracing his dad, and the other guys on the opposing team, then he gives me a nod. I nod back, before glancing over at Cindy, who’s now averting her eyes. She walks over to a nearby table, where Veronica is whispering something to her. Micah sits down at the table and gives me a small wave.

  “Who is it?” Alex’s whisper breaks my concentration. “The girl with that dude over there? Is she going out with him now?”

  I turn around, walking toward the row of bowling balls, and shake my head. “No,” I whisper back. “It’s the Asian girl.”

  He crinkles his nose. “The one that was all chummy with Preppy?”

  I roll me eyes. “Yeah.”

  “Man, don’t even sweat it then. I can smell the douchieness on him. If she’s going out with him, good riddance.”

  I snap my head to the side, meeting his eye line, but can’t bring myself to say anything. We’re not going out. What is there to get mad over?

  He must notice my expression. “She was your girlfriend, wasn’t she?”

  “No, it’s … Like I said, it’s complicated.”

  “Jackson, you’re up,” my dad calls out, and I grab my ball, eying the lane.

  I’m doing everything I can to focus on throwing it down the lane and hit the pins, but there’s nothing I can do to forget Cindy’s standing behind me. I haven’t spoken to her in over a month, so why am I even like this? She might have ended it, but I’m the one who forced that hand. But it’s only because—

  “Get it together, Jacks,” I whisper to myself, shaking my head.

  Refocusing, I stare down the lane, then proceed to throw the bowling ball right into the gutter. My head drops back, and I stare up at the ceiling. “Oh my God.”