“You and your locker partner? That sucks, but I get it. They can be a total bummer. I’ve had one since the sixth grade.”
“No, no, no. It’s nothing like that. I’m the most popular guy in school,” I grinned. The one she returned made me lightheaded, but I pushed forward to the punch line. “It’s not my partner who I’m incompatible with …… It’s my locker.”
“Your locker!?” she gasped dramatically.
“Yeah, my locker. You see, every time I’d put stuff in it, I’d come back, and it’d be spit right back in the hall.”
“Really!?”
“Really!” I exclaimed, and took note of her bantering prowess. It was a bigger turn-on than any superficial thing that’d first drawn me to her.
“Seems she’s still not over her ex. Some sophomore.” I gave my story added layers of lunacy.
“Wow. He must’ve been some guy.”
“Right?” I could’ve gone on forever if it weren’t for the bell, screaming that we were already late for class—the empty halls should’ve been indicator enough.
“I even caught him creeping around and pushing her buttons when I hit the bathroom yesterday.”
“Two-timer!!!” Catee spit it with such conviction that I couldn’t help but laugh, and I broke the artificial seriousness of our moment.
“So, honestly,” I finally admitted. “I had a beef with the guy I was supposed to locker-share with, and now I’m high school homeless.”
“Well, mister, you’re in luck, because space just became available at my place,” she offered with a smile. “And you’re more than welcome to move in at your earliest convenience.”
“Thanks. That’s decent of you, Catee.” As tempted as I was to take her up on the offer, uncontrollable images of Justin, glaring down at me, spiraled through my head. “But I’m looking at this other piece of property tomorrow. It’s in a real nice neighborhood and all. Plus, its two levels, and it’s got a great school nearby.”
“From what I’ve seen and heard, the school’s not so hot. Even the neighborhood’s pretty questionable, if you ask me.”
She scored double points for her shared sentiment. Still, I couldn’t ignore the Sword of Damocles that dangled over me. It was a lose-lose situation. If I took her up on the offer, Justin would cave my skull in; if I didn’t, I’d wind-up with a broken back before long.
“I’ll keep it in mind,” I answered with a grin.
“The offer’s on the table, Damian. You just let me know.”
Silence settled briefly over us before she took the initiative to part ways. “Well, I’ve got to get going, but I’ll catch you in class tomorrow. Okay?”
“Sounds great. Can’t wait.”
And with that, she turned to go. But something in me wouldn’t let it end there.
“Hey, Catee!” Louder than expected, my voice bounced off the steely surface of the hall’s locker-lined sides.
“Yeah?” she turned and asked.
“Ummm …… Thanks?” As much as I willed words to my lips, they evaded me. I found only one. And even it came out sounding like an awkward question.
“For what?”
“You know. For everything … just … thanks. That’s all.”
“It’s my treat.” She replied with finality and filled the hall with her radiant smile. “Try to have an upright afternoon, Damian.” And with that, the girl of my dreams turned and disappeared.
It might’ve seemed insignificant, but Catee saved me that day. And in doing so, she opened a door that invited me into her world. And once inside, as reviling as things might become, there’ll be no escaping without taking her with me. I owe it to her—to return the favor and to save her like she did for me that afternoon—when locker partners and teenage rivalries were still consequential, and before loved ones turned symbols for what we hate most today.
September 4th:
“So, tell me your High, and tell me your Low.”
We were sitting to dinner—my parents, Nicole, and me—and Mom addressed the table with her predictable prompt.
“Well, since it’s brains before beauty, and since I’m currently leading in both departments, I guess I’ll have to start,” my dad joked and laid down his fork to seize first turn.
“Oh, God. Here we go,” I remarked.
My sister rolled her eyes, cut away at her pork chop, and said nothing in response to his poking fun at us.
Mom laid down her fork and brought her elbows to the table. She rested her chin on interlocked fingers and moved to attentive, listening mode.
“I’ll start with my Low, because I know that’s what Mom likes.” My dad gave her a wink that brought a smile to her face. “So, my Low is that Mike’s going to be out of the garage for a few days. One of the cars came down from the lift this afternoon, and wouldn’t you know it, that goof was just standing there! The thing parked itself right on his foot!”
“That’s awful!” Mom gasped. “Is he okay!?”
“Yup. Nothing major. Lucky kid. Broke a few toes, but aside from that, he’ll be fine. Learned his lesson, though. I bet he’ll get out of the way quicker next time.”
“So what’s that mean for the shop?” Mom asked.
“Well, with him out, I’ll have to double up for the next few days, at least till he’s on his feet again. Next week, I’m thinking.”
“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad,” Mom replied, still traumatized by the thought of Mike’s crunching bones.
“And for my High … hmmmm … Okay, this is a good one. You guys are going to laugh.”
“We need it after that disgusting Low,” Nicole spoke up.
“Okay, get ready for it …… So this guy came into the shop today driving this vintage Mercedes. Mint. Shame such a gorgeous car’s wasted on Madison.”
“So what about it?” I saw a tangent coming and pushed him forward.
“Well, the guy said he was having issues with some clanging from underneath.”
“And?” I prodded him to give up the dramatic pauses he liked to embed in his stories.
“Well, we couldn’t see anything from looking under it, so we got it up on the lift. And wasn’t he surprised by what I pulled from the block.”
“What was it?” we asked in excited unison.
“Would you believe it …… A collar and leash!! There wasn’t anything wrong with the guy’s car, after all …… It was someone’s dog that had the real problem!!!!” And with that, he kicked back in his chair and roared in laughter at his disturbing share.
“That’s not funny at all!” Nicole screamed out. “That’s morbid!”
“Darryl, that’s not funny for the dinner table,” Mom’s smile slipped from her face and landed in her mashed potatoes. “Just think of that poor dog’s owner! They must be sick!”
“I’m the one who’s going to be sick!” Nicole interrupted.
“I think it’s pretty funny, dad,” I jumped to save him from their playful scolding, but I was helpless to do the same thing when he really needed me, months later. It was already too late when the live feed interrupted the evening news.
I sat alone, screaming in horror. Tears soaked my face as the pallid swarmed on him from all directions. And seconds later, the reporter disappeared from sight. Then the cameraman, too. His recording crashed to the ground and fixated itself crookedly on the front of Dad’s shop.
I saw nothing more, but the audio captured it all. And my tears turned to rivers as I scoured the living room for his phone. I called my mom, who’d left us the night before. I called Nicole, then Catee. But no one answered, and the gruesome images of my dad were the last I saw or heard from anyone. I couldn’t wait anymore; it was out of control. And I moved into the pantry, alone.
I’ve never been religious, but before my actions register, my eyes close in a whispering prayer: “Please God. I know I don’t talk to you often, and I know I always seem to want something when I do. But I promise, if just this one time, you can make sure everyone’s safe—even Nicole—I promise to t
alk to you every day from here on out. I promise, I’ll be a totally new person. Just this one, last time … Just this one, last favor …… That’s all I need, God. Please.”
When I’m done, I look bleary-eyed to the planks above. The silence and stillness surrounds me in deafening, white noise.
“Nicole, why don’t you go next,” Mom moved the dinner-share forward with a final, disapproving look at my dad—she scolded him for the dog-dragging story later on, I’m sure.
“Okay, but I’ve only been on campus for a few days, and I’ve been totally busy, so I haven’t had much time for anything but my classes and my new roommate, Meghan.”
I got the sense that whatever she said from there was going to be lame, so I resumed eating and only half-listening.
“My High today was—
“Low first,” Mom interrupted.
“OK then, my Low today was when I showed up for my first biology class and learned I should’ve already picked up my syllabus and books from the bookstore. Turns out, we already had a reading assignment and a paper due, right when we walked in the door.”
“That’s awful!” Mom’s reply was of genuine hurt for Nicole.
“Yeah, right? And I wasn’t the only one empty-handed. There were ten or twelve other kids who didn’t pick-up their things and who didn’t get the assignment done either—so at least I wasn’t alone.”
“Well, there’s a lesson in being proactive for you,” my dad proclaimed.
“Relax, Dad. I learned it,” she assured. “From now on, books first, then classes. I won’t make the same mistake twice.”
“I would hope not,” Mom chimed.
“And for my High. Well, I guess my High was finding out that Meghan’s in the same Biology class as me. She helped me with the assignment, and I got it turned in by the end of the day!”
“You didn’t copy it, did you?” Dad asked with playful suspicion and a crooked brow.
“What kind of question is that Darryl? Of course she didn’t copy it!” Mom defended Nicole, but switched gears when she realized the very distinct possibility that my dad might be onto something. “You didn’t copy it, did you, Nicole?”
“Noooooooo, Mom. Nooooooo, Dad. I didn’t copy anything. She just helped me with the reading so I could do the paper faster.”
“Well, it sounds like you’ve got yourself a great roommate.”
“She sounds like nothing but trouble to me.” Dad pressed on and continued poking sticks at my sister.
“Quit it, Darryl. It’s Damian’s turn.”
“I don’t know if I want to go if he’s just going to pick at my story.” I spoke to my mom, but pointed to Dad with the end of my fork.
“Darryl, promise you won’t badger him.”
“You know I can’t do that, Martha.”
“Fine. Then I’ll go instead. Maybe he’ll run out of gas by the time we get to you, Damian.”
“Fat chance of that happening,” my sister, who’d gone back to slicing away at her pork, interjected.
“So, I was down at the nursing home today, visiting my mother and some of the other girls. And when I was there, I checked in with Linda from across the hall. I’ve told you about her, right? That poor woman’s all alone; she’s got no family and she never gets any visitors. Anyway, I popped-in to drop off the Chex Mix I made her, and wouldn’t you know it? She took a fall this morning and banged herself up something terrible. She scraped up her knee, and now she’s got bruises up her whole side.” Mom’s hands illustrated the story on her own body as she spoke.
“That’s terrible, Martha. How is she?” Dad’s uncharacteristically sympathetic response was an obvious attempt to blanket his earlier misstep with her.
“Thank you for asking, Darryl,” Mom thawed and replied. “She’s actually doing quite well.”
My dad looked satisfied with the few points he’d earned back in her good favor as she continued. “And my High for the day was making lunch for her and my mother, and watching game shows with them for the afternoon; it was nice seeing them so happy and knowing I was able to play a part in it.”
“That’s really cool, Mom,” I mumbled behind a mouthful of potato and looked to my plate instead of to her—eye contact would have just pushed her on, and on and on.
“Yeah, cool,” Nicole followed.
Obviously, neither of us was all that interested in her sharing.
“Okay, Damian, I did my best to defuse your father. It’s time for your share.”
I looked over at him. Grinning, he’d bided his time and wasn’t about to let me off the hook so easily without getting a rise out of me, too.
“Alright, alright. Let’s just get it over with,” I began. “So, my Low for the day came when I got to school and went to my locker for the first time. I didn’t get a chance to find it yesterday, and I didn’t really need to until my teachers started piling books on me.”
“Gross. I remember that.” Nicole lent supportive sympathy to the start of my share.
“Anyway, it turns out that the guy I’m sharing a locker with is a total douche: Ryan Hayes. I guess he’s some football god at school, and he thinks he deserves a locker entirely to himself. He took all my stuff and dropped it right in the middle of the hall. He basically told me to find a new home.”
“Can he do that!?” Mom asked, startled.
“It’s high school, Martha,” Dad jumped.
“It’s survival of the fittest,” Nicole added.
“Well, it doesn’t seem right.”
“It’s not, Mom, but that’s how it goes. And I’d rather deal with it on my own than be the guy who runs to get help like some baby. Don’t worry, I’ve got it taken care of.”
“So, you made friends with this boy, then?”
“God, no! Never! He’s a total douche!”
“Please, Damian, not at the table.”
“He does sound like a bit of a douche, Martha.”
“Darryl! Stop feeding into it!” My dad never stayed in the green for long when it came time for sharing. Mom’s sharp words redirected him to his plate.
“And my High,” I continued, “came when Catee, this redhead girl I told Mom about yesterday, offered to share her locker with me, instead.”
“Catee, huh?” My dad responded before my mom could vocalize the instant excitement that’d spread over her face.
“Darryl, you promised … ”
“I didn’t make any promises. Remember?”
“Still, you behave.”
“Just relax, Martha. If Damian’s got a new girlfriend, I’d like to hear about her.”
“Oooohhh, Damian’s got a girlfriend!? I want to hear about her, too!” My sister, only remotely engaged to that point, turned her attention to my reveal, and I instantly had everyone’s complete attention.
I tried to back out as best I could. “Cool it guys. I barely know her. We only talked for a few minutes in the hall, and I didn’t even take her up on the offer. At least, not yet.”
“Playing hard to get then?” Dad prompted.
“No, Dad. I’m not playing hard to get. I just don’t know if it’s the best move for me and all right now.” I opted to leave out the parts about Justin and his territorial threats.
“Well, I think it’s great that you’ve met a girl, Damian. And whenever you’re ready to bring her home, I’ll plan a nice big dinner and we’ll all be on our best behavior,” Mom declared with a look back and forth between Nicole and my dad.
“Of course we will, Martha,” Dad agreed with his signature, mischievous grin.
“I’m always on my best behavior, Mom,” Nicole agreed.
Her sadistic smile was more like my dad’s than anything else. But even though neither of them could be trusted, it was all in good fun. Plus, Catee’s quick wit that afternoon suggested she could handle our sarcastic dinner talks just as well as anyone.
But the road to dinner seemed an unlikely one back then and before Catee and I started to hang on the regular. And because I knew suc
h little about her, I wasn’t sure if I’d want to cross that bridge, if we ever came to it. Yeah, she had my attention, but so didn’t impromptu pizza in a Wednesday lunch line. It didn’t mean I wanted to date it, marry it, or bring it home to my family. As I figured, the most I’d share with Catee would be half a locker—and even that seemed far-reaching.
September 7th:
By Friday of week one, I’d begun to develop a serious case of scoliosis from the sheer weight of my swollen backpack. It contorted my spine in unnatural ways that was only worsened by those who took notice, and who lent the added weight of downward tugs.
I wound up on the ground a couple more times during those first few days—mostly by kids after quick and easy laughs. It wasn’t anything personal, and it didn’t bother me too much. None of them even knew me. I was just the small guy with a big backpack—an easy, slow moving target.
And even though Catee and I saw each other throughout that week, we hadn’t had any opportunity to talk. We exchanged brief words whenever we ran across each other, but she was always distracted with one or another groups of kids, and I didn’t really feel comfortable jumping in. It was only through bus windows—where Justin’s threats were empty ones—that I even dared look at her long enough to appreciate her the way I wanted and needed to.
There was a magnetism about her that had captured the attention of more than just me, and it wasn’t exclusive to the guys at school either; even girls with reputations for cattiness were drawn to her. And by the looks of it, Catee had quickly secured herself a spot as one of the IT girls of Madison: all in under a week. I’d been there the same amount of time, and I hadn’t even secured a spot for my books, yet.
The hunt to spot her was always an easy one, even from the bus. Mature by freshman terms, Catee’s hair was the first giveaway when I looked for her on the ride home. It helped that she was taller than other girls—and even some of the boys, too—but not in a freakish sort of way, either. She’d just come into her own faster than everyone else. While they still looked and dressed exactly the same—like they’d just popped out of some crappy, Sears catalogue—her look was thoughtlessly her own. It was as uniquely perfect as it was natural.
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