Forever Changed

by Tiffany King

  “I’ll see you Wednesday, Kassandra.”

  I nodded my approval.

  I spent the rest of the afternoon trying to mentally prepare for detention. I convinced myself that he had most likely served his time and wouldn’t be there, but as I entered the large room, I saw him sitting in the same seat as the previous week. We were the only two students in detention again and I wondered if all the troublemakers had taken a three day weekend. The same dippy teacher's aide from Friday signed me in and was on his phone the moment I walked away. He waited around for a few minutes for any stragglers before heading outside to BS on his phone.

  I sat in the back row, trying to ignore Maddon, but I couldn’t help studying the back of his head. I tried to draw my eyes away, but something about the way he was slouched over looking defeated made me question everything I had believed.

  I had spent months hating him, wishing he would disappear off the face of the earth, and yet, somehow my anger for him had drained away.

  “I’m sorry,” he said without turning around when our time was at the halfway mark.

  “What?” I asked, not sure if he was talking to me even though we were alone.

  “I said, I’m sorry,” he said, walking toward me.

  “Me too, I kind of lost it Friday.”

  He laughed, almost harshly. “I think you were entitled to lose it.”

  “Not really. I’ve spent months blaming you for something that really wasn’t your fault. I guess I just needed someone to blame besides myself.”

  “Kassandra, you weren’t wrong to blame me. I could've stopped him that day. I should've stopped him,” he said in the same defeated voice from Friday.

  “How would you have stopped him?” I asked, more curious than I should have been.

  “Just by talking I could've stopped him. It doesn't take much to provoke my dad,” he said bitterly.

  “Yeah, I know,” I said, looking down.

  “Yeah, I guess you do.”

  We didn’t speak the rest of the time, but for once, the silence between us wasn’t suffocating.

  We walked to the parking lot at the same time, not necessarily together, but close enough. The knots that had ravaged my gut at the beginning of detention had unraveled by the time we made our way to our cars. We didn't talk, but she lifted her chin in acknowledgement as she climbed into her SUV. I returned the nod and watched until she drove away.

  I sank back against my car once she was out of sight. We had actually talked without her looking at me like she wanted to dip me in battery acid. I tried to control my heart rate. Just because she no longer wanted to hang me up by my toenails didn’t mean she suddenly shared my feelings for her.

  I made the short drive home to my aunt’s house, smiling like a goon the entire way. I bounded up the three porch steps, iPod in hand, anxious to hit my room so I could rehash our conversation. My aunt was sitting on the living room couch when I let myself in. She clutched a letter in her hand and looked up at me with wide eyes.

  “Great, what now?” I asked, sensing it was something bad.

  “We got a letter from your father’s public defender. He wants to know if we will speak as character witnesses on his behalf.”

  “Um, let me think about it. Hell NO,” I said sarcastically.

  “Are you sure?” she asked. “It could help him.”

  “Exactly,” I said, making my point clear. “I couldn't care less if his ass rots away in jail for the rest of his life.”

  “You might change your mind later on down the road,” she said quietly.

  “Dolores, I’m not going to change my mind,” I said exasperated. “Maybe he'll finally dry out,” I added, my mood significantly soured as I made my way to my room. I thought it was classic that he dared to ask for my help. After all the crap he had thrown my way over the years, all the poundings and he expected me to rescue him?

  Frustrated, I threw myself on the bed and tried to dredge up the happy feelings I had before I walked through the front door. I pulled up the image in my mind of how Kassandra had looked at me in the auditorium without anger for the first time. How the corners of her mouth had pulled up slightly, like she was on the verge of smiling. Her lips were one of my favorite features, and I had spent a ridiculously insane amount of time thinking about them. Slowly, the anger and frustration left as I entertained ideas of what I would like to do with her lips at that exact moment.

  I felt an odd mixture of apprehension and something akin to anxiousness the next day when I got to school. For months, the campus was the place where I might have to see him, which forced me to deal with my demons. But he was no longer an it presence. He had a name, Maddon. I rolled the name around in my head, remembering his confessions from the day before. It floored me, knowing that he dealt with the same inner turmoil that I did.

  I walked through the doors, feeling lighter than I had in months. The weight of my "if onlys" had lifted. I no longer had to worry about what I would do if I saw Maddon, or what I would say to him. We’d crossed that bridge.

  Colton was once again waiting by my locker. “Well, this is turning into a habit,” I said, giving him a smile.

  “Wow, Kass, I think that’s the first legit smile you’ve had in months. What brought that on?”

  I started to shrug my shoulders, ready to retreat back into my protective shell, but decided to be honest. “Things are just starting to feel a little less dramatic,” I said, closing my locker door.

  “I bet. It was total suckage about your dad. I’d give you mine,” he joked.

  “What’s the deal with you and your dad? You two always seemed so buddy-buddy.”

  “Oh, we were as long as my dreams matched his dreams,” he answered sarcastically.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, taking my seat.

  “Just stuff.”

  “Like what?”

  “Stuff that’s way too intense to talk about now,” he said, looking around the room.

  I followed his gaze and saw Matt and Alex, a couple of Colton’s friends studying us with scowls on their faces.

  “What's the deal with that?” I asked. “Why aren’t you hanging back there with them?” I added, pissed at myself for closing myself off so entirely that I had completely missed what was going on around me.

  “Just drama, like you said before,” he said, flashing me a smile that fell flat before it could reach his eyes.

  “Well, crap, Colton. I’ve sucked as a friend lately, huh,” I said, reaching over to give his hand a light squeeze.

  “You kind of had a good excuse,” he said, shooting me a real smile this time.

  “Do you want to get together tonight and vent?”

  “Can’t. I have to flip burgers tonight,” he said as Ms. Johnson started talking about our next reading assignment.

  “How about at lunch?” I whispered as Ms. Johnson cleared her throat for my benefit.

  He nodded his head slightly.

  ***

  Colton was waiting for me outside my fourth period class when it ended. “Library or outside?” he asked as we headed toward our lockers to get our lunches.

  “How about outside? We can soak up a little vitamin D now that it’s not so wickedly.”

  “Just like a chick, always thinking of her tan,” he joked.

  “Ha-ha, but I remember a certain guy strutting around all summer without a shirt so he could golden up his pecks,” I teased.

  “Um, maybe because we were at the beach,” he said, trying to sound indignant.

  “Whatever helps you sleep at night,” I said, nudging him with my hip before we settled underneath one of the endless pine trees scattered throughout the campus. I spread out my jacket before I sat down, not wanting any creepy crawlies thinking I was fair game. I loved living in Florida where we could wear shorts ninety-nine percent of the year, but I could seriously live without the endless supply of bugs.

  “So, what’s up with your dad?” I asked, pulling my turkey wrap out of my sandwich bag.


  Colton made a production of unwrapping his own sandwich before answering. “He’s pissed that I don’t want to pursue college ball among other things,” he said, skating around the issue as he took a big bite out of his sandwich.

  “You don’t?” I asked surprised.

  “Nah, let’s face it, I’m just an okay player. I might’ve gotten a partial scholarship at some small school, but I would’ve most likely ridden the bench all four years.”

  “That’s not true,” I argued.

  “Maybe, maybe not, but it really isn’t my thing,” he said, finishing his sandwich and pulling out his chips.

  “So, what is your thing?”

  “School,” he said simply.

  “What do you mean school?” I asked puzzled.

  “I mean, I like school. I’m good at it. All these years the old man assumed I kept my grades up for football, but truthfully, it comes naturally for me.”

  “Seriously? Why didn’t you ever say anything? I could've used your mad brain skills for some of my classes,” I chided.

  “Now, how would it have looked to have a football stud acting like he actually enjoyed schoolwork?”

  “Gasp, I could just imagine the horror,” I teased. “The moon would have been knocked off its axis, schools would have shut down, life as we knew it would be over,” I joked.

  He laughed.

  “Seriously, though, you'd think your dad would be proud,” I said in a more serious tone.

  “Not my dad. He’s afraid it’s a sign of more things to come,” he said, pulling at the grass by his leg.

  “Like what?” I asked, more confused than ever.

  He looked around to see if anyone was around. “Basically, just stuff he’s recently learned about me that he’s not crazy about.”

  “Ugh, you’re killing me with all this dancing around. Just tell me already,” I demanded, shooting him a smile so he would know I really wasn’t mad.

  “You promise not to tell?” he asked quietly, all joking gone from his voice.

  “Of course I promise. Besides, who am I going to tell?” I said, spreading my arms out to emphasize the social void my life had become.

  “It’s probably going to change the way you feel about me,” he said miserably.

  “I find that hard to believe, unless you tell me you’re some mass murderer or the person responsible for putting Jersey Shore on TV,” I said, trying to ease his apparent apprehension.

  He didn’t return my smile and seemed to pale further as he weighed his words.

  “Seriously, Colton, there’s nothing you can tell me that will change the way I feel about you,” I said, reaching over to grasp his hand.

  He looked down at our hands. “I’m gay,” he said, finally meeting my eyes.

  “What?” I asked incredulously.

  “I’m gay,” he repeated a little more firmly. “I tried to hide it, deny it all these years, but it’s something I can’t seem to change.”

  “How did I not know this?” I said, trying to fit the puzzle pieces together in my head.

  “I think you did if you think back.”

  I worked through his words as all the pieces finally came together. Of course he was right. I had known things were romantically off between us for years. There was absolutely no reason why we shouldn’t have worked as a couple. We both shared the same interests and likes, and enjoyed each other’s company, but each time we tried to move our relationship to the next level, it always fizzled out. We were good as friends, but could never cross the threshold into making out status.

  “Dang, I guess I did,” I finally said.

  “Are you mad?” he asked, looking worried.

  “Mad? Heck no. You’re right. Something was always kooky about our kisses. I just assumed you didn’t like my cherry lip gloss,” I teased.

  “Ha, that was the highlight of the kisses,” he said, sounding more lighthearted now that he had confessed.

  “As if,” I said, punching him lightly on the bicep.

  “You’re seriously okay with it?” he asked.

  I nodded my head. “It’s actually a relief. Now we can be friends without worrying about you trying to grope me.”

  “Like that was ever really an issue,” he teased.

  “Well, in hindsight, no, but before, I was always worried that you'd want to take it to the next level. So, how did your dad find out?”

  “I told him when he started riding me about football scholarships. He couldn’t understand why I wasn’t applying for any of them.”

  “You can still play football,” I said.

  “Nah, I don’t want to. I never wanted a career in football. I want to do something I like.”

  “And what is that?” I asked curiously, feeling like I was finally getting to know him.

  “I want to teach.”

  “Wow, seriously? Like what grade?”

  “I’m thinking college level. I’d love to be an English lit professor at some college.”

  “That would be great,” I said, slightly envious that he had it all mapped out. I was still indecisive about my future. I had a stack of college applications sitting on my desk waiting to be sent out, but I was dragging my feet on them.

  “How about you?” Colton asked, helping me to my feet as the bell rang.

  “Don’t ask. I’m still undecided,” I said, knotting my hoodie around my waist.

  “Guess a cheerleading scholarship is out?” he joked.

  I returned his smile. It was surreal to think that six months ago, both our lives were set on one path, and now everything had changed. It's crazy how life works. I couldn’t help feeling a spasm of grief that my dad wasn’t here to help me find the new path I should take.

  Colton and I parted ways outside his Algebra II class since I had World History for fifth period. I slid into my seat with a few minutes to spare and pulled out my phone to make sure I hadn’t missed any calls or messages.

  “I don’t know I was thinking making it an all white party,” I heard Lacey say to one of her followers in the back of the room. “That way, I can wear the killer red dress I got over Thanksgiving break in New York.”

  “What do you mean all white?” Mindy asked.

  “I mean the guests will wear all-white,” Lacey said, making it clear she thought Mindy’s comment was ignorant.

  “Oh,” Mindy said, still sounding confused.

  “OMG, just wear all white or don’t dare show up,” Lacey snipped, clearly aggravated.

  I kept my back to their exchange, but grimaced at Lacey’s condescending tone. I had been on the sharp end of her tongue a few times over the years and felt pity for Mindy. Unless she stood up to Lacey like I had a few years back, Lacey would only get crueler.

  “But I am invited, right?” Mindy asked nervously.

  “YES, unless you keep saying stupid stuff that pisses me off,” Lacey said.

  I shook my head slightly to myself. It was hard to remember why I ever thought she was cool to hang with. I must have been mentally challenged at the time.

  “Of course, not everyone will be invited. Certain losers will miss out on the party of the year,” she added, making her point clear.

  I fought the temptation to turn around and tell her I’d rather sit through an all-day class with Mr. Mathews' than attend a party of hers, but I held my tongue.

  “You’re sooo lucky. I wish my parents' would let me throw a winter party at the Heathrow Country Club,” Carrie said wistfully, sitting on the other side of Lacey.

  “Don’t be a dumbass. If they threw you a party then it would interfere with mine,” Lacey said meanly.

  “Oh, I meant on a different night,” Carrie said apologetically, trying to explain.

  Lacey’s response was cut off when Mr. Lewis entered the room.

  “We'll be watching a film on the English Civil War, or you may have heard of it referred to as the English Revolution. I would advise you to take extensive notes since I will be handing out a thirty question quiz at th
e conclusion of the film,” he said sternly, eyeing Lacey and her cronies as they continued to whisper in the back row.

  “Ms. Harris, do I need to switch your seat?” he asked Lacey.

  “Um, no, sir. Mindy was just asking me for a pencil since she didn’t come to class prepared,” Lacey said sweetly, ignoring Mindy’s gasp of dismay at being thrown under the bus.

  “Whatever the reason, please refrain from talking,” he said as he lowered the screen from the ceiling and turned on the overhead projector.

  Ignoring the trio in back, I spent the class period scribbling notes from the film and then taking the quiz which proved to be relatively easy.

  I managed to keep any thoughts of detention at bay throughout the majority of the day, but as seventh hour drew to a close, my apprehension from this morning began to creep in. Now that we had hashed things out, would Maddon ignore me, moving on with his life, or would he still want to talk? I tried to reason with myself that it shouldn’t matter either way. Why should I care what he did? Our lives were completely different, yet for some undefined reason, I did care.

  Once again, I was the first person to reach the auditorium. I sat in the back row again, waiting anxiously as a few students straggled in. Maddon arrived a few minutes later. I watched from my vantage point as he scanned the dim space, obviously searching for something. After a moment, his eyes finally found mine. He shot me a tentative smile before heading down the row directly in front of me.

  “Hey,” he said, turning sideways in his seat so he could see me.

  “Hey,” I said, feeling a sudden shyness around him that I normally didn’t feel with guys.

  “So, how many more days of jail do you have left?” he asked.

  “Until Friday,” I said grimacing “How about you?”

  “My sentence is done after tomorrow,” he said, shooting me a crooked grin.

  “Lucky,” I said.

  “Hey, at least your sentence was for something worthwhile,” he said.

  “Oh God, you heard about that?” I asked, embarrassed that so many people knew I had lost it in class.

  “The whole school knows,” he said laughing. “You’re like everyone’s hero. Badass to the core.”