Seeds of Hate

by Melissa Perea

  Izzy walked up to my side, set a coffee down and pushed it into my hands.

  "You got here early," he said. His hair was a uniformed mess that came off as attractive. Sweat beaded along his brow and he had a bright flush to his cheeks. He placed both hands at his side and smiled. "You really weren't lying."

  "Lying?" I asked.

  "About having nothing to do," he replied. "I miss sleeping past 4 AM."

  "Oh. That," I said. The tingling sensation prevailed and my blush brightened as a swarm of lady bugs attacked my cheeks. The red spots always took forever to go away. I looked outside the window. Next time I'd come later.

  Izzy chuckled and squeezed my shoulder. "I have to get back, but I'll bring you a muffin or something when I go on break." I turned my head as his right eye twitched. Did he just wink at me? Damn you, lady bugs!

  He walked away and returned to the back. I sipped my coffee and stared at the other tables. A few were occupied; most were empty. The hour moved by slowly as seven met eight and as the line diminished, the dining room became full.

  People with purpose. People with plans. People enjoying life.

  A young woman began pushing an empty stroller back and forth two tables down from mine. Did she forget her baby wasn't there? An older man sat alone reading the morning paper. Did he lose his wife? And two children ran around grabbing at their mother, while another threw Cheerios at her face. Where was her husband?

  I continued to watch the lives of those around me.

  The entrance door chimed as a man with an infant headed toward the empty stroller. He placed the baby down and dropped a bag overloaded with toys and diapers. The young woman stopped pushing and froze. She looked down at the older man reading the newspaper and then back at the stroller. Her eyes closed and then opened. The young man rubbed the stubble on his chin and his shoulders dropped. He had dark circles around his eyes and his shirt on inside out. They exchanged no words.

  The young woman reached out to touch him, but he turned and walked away. A drop fell from her eyes, down her chin and onto the floor.

  The older man stood and embraced the young woman. She breathed heavily and hunched inward—a jacket of disappointment covering her back. The infant began to cry and the young woman snapped. Leaving the embrace, she picked up the child and held it close. Grabbing the bag off the floor, she wiped at her face and headed toward the door. The older man followed behind, pushing the stroller.

  She stopped at the door and turned around. She placed a small kiss on the man's left cheek. "Thank you for coming, Daddy," she said.

  He rubbed her chin and smiled. "Give him time," he replied.

  The three of them proceeded out and down the street. The heavy atmosphere following them.

  Was anyone spared? Or did all life come with pain?

  Once the bakery slowed, Izzy took a break and joined me.

  "Anything interesting?" he asked.

  "Do you think people are ever happy?" I asked.

  He pushed himself back against the window and propped his legs up on the vinyl seat. "Of course," he said. "Plenty of people are happy."

  "Are you?" I asked.

  "At the moment, no. At the moment, I'm tired." He yawned into his fist, leaned over the table and grabbed my coffee. "I think I'm immune. It never helps anymore."

  Izzy saw things with such simplicity. I envied him.

  "I saw Javier. Yesterday after school," I said.

  He took another sip of my cold, leftover coffee. I wondered if he could taste my lip gloss.

  "He must be coming back," Izzy said. "Did he talk to you?"

  "No." I sat ripping a napkin into tiny pieces. Then grabbed another one and ripped some more.

  Izzy placed a hand over mine. "He doesn't talk to anyone. Don't take it personal."

  I kept ripping the paper, ignoring his statement. "Do you know Britney?"

  Izzy froze and then removed his hand from on top of mine. "Everyone knows her. Why?"

  "Is that the kind of girl you want? The kind of girl guys want?"

  "What do you mean by kind?" he asked.

  I placed my hands out in front of my chest and cupped them. Then I pouted my lips and flipped my hair.

  "You know. Like that," I replied.

  "Guys see with their eyes," he said and shrugged.

  "So yes. I mean, you're saying you can't see past that?"

  "Guys see with their eyes and feel with their hands. They like Britney because she's easy. It's not complicated."

  My forehead dropped to the table. Bang. Bang. Bang. The napkin dispenser and vase jiggled against the vibrations. I lifted my head and looked at my watch.

  "I should go," I said.

  Izzy scooted to the edge and stood. "See you Monday?" he asked.

  A disgruntled noise escaped my nose and I rubbed my forehead.

  "I hear it gets better, you know," he said.

  "What?" I asked.

  He offered me his hand and I stood up from the table.

  "Life."

  I thought about mine so far. My best years all led up to my tenth birthday. I smiled at Izzy, but it didn't touch my eyes. Instead it sat on my face like a soggy piece of bread—mushy and unwanted.

  "Monday," he repeated. "Fresh coffee and warm sticky buns. I promise." His optimism was endearing. When he walked behind the counter, he entered a world of warmth, sweetness and comfort. And it wasn't because of the bakery.

  When I exited, I stood just outside the door and looked back through the window. He was surrounded by family—sisters, brothers, a mother and a father. I'd wake up at 4 AM for the rest of my life if it meant those faces would greet me. I tapped on the glass and tried to smile.

  "Monday," I whispered. "Monday."

  Chapter 15

  Three's a Crowd

  (Javier)

  When I arrived at school, the breathable air surrounding our brick wall had minimized. She was there. Izzy was smiling. And they were both laughing.

  I stood in front of them, two feet from the tips of their shoes and waited for them to separate. Neither took immediate notice to my presence, so I kicked Izzy and his head popped up.

  "Hey man, here's your coffee," he said and then returned back to the conversation. I grabbed the cup and looked around for the brown greasy bag. It sat closest to Selah and my stomach grumbled in protest.

  Dragging my feet, I took a seat on the opposite side of Izzy and threw my bag against the wall. Neither of them reacted. I elbowed Izzy in the side and leaned back.

  "Pass me the sticky buns?" I asked.

  They both laughed, but I didn't get the joke. Was I the joke?

  "Something funny?" I withheld the irritation from my voice, but like drunk people, those on the right side of an inside joke had the most fun, while the rest of the world felt lost.

  Izzy attempted to compose himself, but as Selah handed him the bag their laughter repeated, and I grew angry. Leaning over Izzy, I yanked the bag from Selah's hands and then I got it.

  "I'm sorry, Javier. Izzy dared me to eat all three and so I did. He didn't think I'd get through the third one." Selah's eyes were wet with tears, and she snorted while punching Izzy in the upper arm.

  "I still don't understand how you eating them all is funny," I said.

  "It's not," Izzy replied for her while wiping his nose and clearing his throat. "I just knew you'd be pissed. And you were." He grabbed the empty bag from my hand and crumpled it into a ball before tossing it at the trash can and missing.

  "Well, three years and you begin to expect things," I said.

  Izzy looked up at me, his laughter gone and the sincerity and past of our friendship returning. "I'll bring you more tomorrow. I promise," he replied.

  I noticed Selah packing her things and getting ready to leave.

  "You have class?" I asked.

  "No, first period is study hall for me."

  "Then why are you leaving?"

  She stood up and threw her bag over her shoulder. Her feet tapped agai
nst the floor, but she didn't say anything.

  "The bell isn't for a while. Sit down." My actions were contradictory to my words. I didn't want her here, but I didn't want her leaving.

  She took a seat but kept her bag firmly in place. Izzy cleared his throat and then kicked my shin, nodding toward the parking lot. Students were still arriving, some running toward classes at the upper level of campus, and others sauntering in like they owned the very earth beneath them.

  I leaned closer against the wall. He wouldn't come near me so soon, but I wouldn't put it past him to throw something at me. Words being his choicest weapon.

  Principal White turned the corner and saw Nathan in the distance—his head shook from side to side. He approached me wearing the same stiff suit he had been in on Friday. His shirt, wrinkled and unwashed, and his pants creased in all the wrong places.

  He adjusted the waistband of his pants as he stood in front of me. "Is your letter complete?" he asked.

  "Yes," I replied and pulled a white envelope from my bag to hand over to him.

  He put his hand out in front, but didn't take it. "No, I want you to hand it to him. Not right now, but later when the appropriate time presents itself."

  "You want me to hand deliver my suck-ass apology note that I don't even agree with?"

  Mr. White pinched his nose and then bent down at the knee, lowering himself to my level.

  "Yes, Javier. That is exactly what I want you to do. I don't give a damn that you don't agree with it. School policy is school policy. Therefore, I expect you to take that letter and hand it to Nathan. Mr. Treymore is expecting it."

  "You told Nathan I was writing him an apology letter?" As the words left my mouth, he walked by—too far to overhear our discussion, but close enough to catch my attention. With his right hand, he took his pointer finger and drew a line across his throat. The irony of it all presented itself as a porcelain figurine. All I would have to do is grab a hammer and smash it, the truth would tumble out and the letter could be burned.

  Mrs. Moss's words from the previous week repeated themselves in my head. Why do you protect him?

  I'm not. I'm not. I'm not.

  I'm protecting myself.

  The porcelain turned to stone, and I placed my letter back in my bag, readying my mind to deliver it.

  "Yes, Nathan knows about the letter," Mr. White replied. "Deliver it, Javier. Promise me."

  I watched the retreating figure of Nathan and stared back at the white envelope.

  "I promise," I said. Once again, protecting myself.

  Mr. White left with a single nod, returning to the front office. Selah and Izzy didn't say anything, instead I caught them both staring at the yellow tables, their bodies frozen with angry lips.

  The bell rang, breaking their silent lashing, and we all stood.

  "Where are you going?" Izzy directed his question at me.

  "To class," I replied.

  "You don't have class. You should stay here and hang with Selah. Keep her company," he said.

  "Like you did last week?" I asked.

  Izzy and Selah turned to each other and then looked back at me.

  "Whatever," I said. "I'll catch you both later."

  I walked away and headed toward a cluster of tables at the front of campus. It wasn't far from the brick wall, but it was in the sun and away from people. Izzy and Selah were both gone by the time I sat down and looked back.

  Twenty minutes later, she was back and standing by the brick wall. I willed her to come toward me and sit down at my table, but she didn't. She didn't even look at me.

  I opened my book to study, but spent the next thirty minutes asking her questions and figuring her out. She was just too far away to respond. First period ended quicker than most and I watched as she packed her things and headed somewhere. I followed without following, but didn't see where she went.

  The rest of the day ticked by, my attention only acknowledging the seconds.

  ***

  Our signal of freedom resounded throughout the hallways, courtyards and cafeteria. Class was over. My moment had come.

  Since I had rejected three different opportunities to hand off my letter to Nate, I would now be forced to give it to him at the end of the day, in front of everyone. I looked down at my newly purchased shoes and said goodbye. The white laces begged me to keep them.

  The warm air shifted as a large cloud crept in front of the sun. I searched for Nathan in the shadows and saw him leaning against a tree by the locker room. Every single friend of his present for my public humiliation.

  I kept my eyes down, focused on the black asphalt and tapped the white envelope against the palm of my hand as I headed toward him. My eyes flicked around at sea level, hoping to find Izzy. I checked my watch. He would be sitting on the bench by now, waiting for his mom.

  Their voices grew louder and then quieted down as they became aware of me. I felt exposed as the breeze came—the clouds removing my cover.

  My feet stopped, prohibiting me from moving any closer. I leaned down and tightened my laces, pulling on their strength to get me through this. The sun heated my neck as I looked up to see their circle parting and Nathan staring right at me. He carried a heavy smirk, but hid his fear behind dark sunglasses. My shoes choked my feet as I tied the laces in a knot and then stood.

  "Nathan," I said, while pulling my head to the side, asking him to come talk to me outside his boxing ring.

  "Took you long enough. Just hand it over to me, asshole," he replied.

  I reached out and offered him the envelope, but there was an eight foot disparity of space.

  "You're the one who punched me, Javi. Now, give me the damn letter." Nathan made no attempt to move, and the crowd around him began to chuckle and hoot. Elbows started to bump and people whispered their bets on who would make the first move. Wanting to end their fun and my misery, I swallowed hard and held my breath.

  Four steps and the envelope grazed the front of his chest. I held it out for five seconds before letting it go and watching Nathan scramble to retrieve it. As I turned and walked away, I heard paper ripping and fits of laughter. I could feel the students behind me pointing—all fingers aimed at me.

  I paused, breathing in and out before reacting. The breeze had come again and removed my sun, the air turning cold in the shade. My teeth melded together as I bit down and sealed my rage. Little bits of paper began to flutter around my shoulders and face as they spotted the blacktop with false snow.

  False apologies.

  False friendship.

  Dozens upon dozens of eyes stared at me as the campus froze. I looked back down at my shoes and repeated Izzy's words. "You matter. You are important." My body relaxed and I took one step at a time and walked away. The birds chirped and I focused on the path in front of me, not the one of my past.

  "Javi!" he shouted my name between their laughter and ruckus.

  I kept walking, ignoring what I had the power to ignore.

  "Javi!" he said once again, but I refused to turn around. No one moved or said a word as I passed them by. I kept my focus and refused to be broken. Rushed steps grew louder and I tensed, bracing the possible onslaught, but then the feet became silent.

  A cold hand grazed the back of my neck and all of my bottled-up fear froze, then dropped onto the floor—shattering into a million pieces of shame and humiliation. And like before, I ran. I ran away from my biggest nightmare.

  My feet hit the pavement like thunder bolts from the sky, and I screamed at the trickling students near the front of campus. I saw the wires as I reached the street and kicked off my shoes. My fingers sweaty with hate and the disappearance of forgiveness kept slipping, as I tied them together in a triple knot. I held the laces taut as the shoes dangled from the side of my hands and then I looked up. My peace. My quiet. My freedom.

  Bending at the knees I did a partial jump as I threw the shoes straight into the air. They caught on the wire, coiled and bounced, but stayed hanging. My breath came out in
pants as I saw Izzy stepping inside his mother's van. I closed my eyes and shook my head from side to side.

  "Javier! Wait. Wait. Javier!" I heard her voice climbing from the distance but didn't look back. I had to get home. Home was safe. Home was quiet.

  Chapter 16

  Hanging Shoes

  (Selah)

  I tried to keep up with him, but his reaction frightened me. The invisible caution tape trailing at his feet gave me pause—I should've just left him alone. When I neared his stopping point, his shoes were off and hanging above his head. It didn't make sense. Shoeless again?

  I yelled out for him, but as expected, he didn't respond. He just left. Again.

  My hands sat at my sides, lifeless and bereft, knowing that they couldn't help. The students around me carried on with their day, only a few whispering and pointing at his shoes.

  "Do you think he's special?"

  "Maybe he's bi-polar."

  "I had an aunt once that suffered from reality dissociation."

  "Do you even know what that means?"

  "Yeah, it means he's crazy."

  Special. Bi-polar. This is what they thought of him? Various students began to bring up the past and talked about things I had never heard before. Self-mutilation, depression and a myriad of other disorders. All things I'd never attribute to Javier.

  "Hey, Selah! Do you have a car?" Izzy's voice rang out from beside a van. An older woman inside was scolding and pointing at him. Not happy at whatever he was about to do.

  "Yes, of course," I replied.

  Izzy leaned in, kissed the woman on the cheek and slammed the car door behind him.

  "Do you think I could get a ride?" he asked.

  I bit my lip as my fingers trembled. The sudden urge to pee surfaced with my fear. "Is this about Javier? I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to touch him," I said.

  Izzy's head pulled back and his face grew a double chin. "Touch him?"

  The ears around us grew substantially as our conversation took a turn. I could feel them staring. I could feel them judging. I looked at Izzy and nodded. He grabbed my arm and started walking toward the parking lot.