My knee began twitching again. "How? What can I say that will make her understand my situation?"
Izzy laughed. "You could tell her."
"A lot of good that would do," I said. "She'd have nightmares or start pretending that neither of us exist."
"Neither of us?" Izzy questioned. "I'm not the one throwing shoes."
I kicked his foot and then brushed the scuff off my new shoe. "Guilty by association, mi amigo," I said.
"Whatever. You should go talk to her. She left right now because of you. She thinks you're angry."
"How would you know?" I asked.
"Girls are fairly simple creatures. I have three sisters." He shook his head back and forth as he acknowledged their existence. "They're not hard to read once you've spent a little time with them," he said.
"How long were you at the bakery?" I asked.
Izzy looked at me, his eyes gathering at the center. "Less than an hour," he replied. "My mom was not happy when I left her."
"You get grounded?" I asked.
He laughed. "No, I think my mom thought maybe there was a chance Selah and I were something," he said while holding up air quotes.
I mulled over my thoughts before voicing them. Curiosity. Questions. Concerns. My words were laced with a bit of everything. "Do you want to be something?" I asked.
"We are something. Friends. I spent an entire week with her while you were expelled."
I didn't reply to that because I already knew. Those were five very long days. We both stood and readied ourselves to go to class. Well, I readied myself to wander.
"I saw the note, by the way," Izzy replied.
I turned to him and lifted my bag over my shoulder. "Note?"
"Your apology letter to Nathan. He left it in pieces on Selah's car."
"You helped her tape it up?" I asked.
Izzy pulled the straps up on his backpack, gripping them tighter and then looked away. He didn't answer.
"And?" I asked.
He let out a long, slow breath and then faced me. "Why?" he asked. "Why do you still care?"
I couldn't explain it. I didn't even understand it. Some things ... some things were just impossible to let go. "I can't erase all the memories of my past. The good and the bad," I replied.
"No, but you can choose to ignore them. Move on," Izzy said.
I tilted my head to the side. "Maybe. Maybe not."
Izzy's face pulled at the corners—a mixture of frustration, concern and anger. Then he reached out, grabbed my shoulder and squeezed. I stood still, withholding myself from anything that might cause me to break. He was a good friend. The best.
When he walked away, I went in the opposite direction, scanning the campus for the short, flurry of curls that was probably hiding in some corner. I didn't mean to push her away, but her kindness made me want to strike. It felt wrong to be so accepting of it.
Once I found her, I settled against the wall near the men’s restroom. An acceptable place to perch. Nathan walked by about ten feet away, and while I was aware, I didn't react. There was something more important to watch.
Selah's legs were shaking up and down as she sat, her lips moving as she read some note. I should apologize, I should say thank you. I should do something, but I couldn't stop staring. Her hair gave way to the majority of her negative attention. It was frizzy and unmanageable, but the light freckles on her cheeks and nose softened the angles of her chin. I knew what everyone else thought was attractive, but I hadn't spent much time considering girls this last year.
A group of kids walked past her on the steps and kicked away her bag. She didn't even notice.
"Get up and go to class, Selah. Our classmates are not kind," I whispered these words across the open quad and she looked up. Her eyes were wet and her cheeks were flushed. Go. Now. She scratched her face and then left.
I would find her later. I had to.
***
I left early during last period to wander the parking lot. I had spent enough time watching the cars come and go to know which ones didn't belong to her, but figuring out which one did was more difficult. Black seemed too dark, red too wild, yellow too playful. Maybe she had no choice in choosing it, maybe she did. My search felt like a lost cause.
I peeked into the windows of several before seeing a pile of shoe boxes in the back of a simple white sedan. Simple, except for the Mercedes logo. Must be nice. I cupped my hands on the sides of my eyes and looked through the tinted glass.
One, two, three ... nine boxes of shoes. All varying sizes, but the same style—black Converse with white laces. There was only one size missing. Size 10 1/2. I looked down at my feet and frowned. Dragging my forehead across the glass, I peered into the front seat. It was clean, no trash, no cups, no charms or personality. Nothing displayed anywhere.
The final bell rang and I walked away. I stopped at the entrance to campus and leaned against the fence. My fingers looped through the links as I watched the students disperse. When I saw her I smiled, but it disappeared when Nathan trailed behind her. He grabbed a sheet of paper from his bag, crumpled it and then threw it at the back of her head. It fell to the side and rolled ahead of her. She kept walking, but leaned down and picked it up, not turning around to see its source.
Who are you, Selah? Can I trust you?
Chapter 20
Silence
(Selah)
I was invisible. To everyone except Izzy. It had been three weeks and Javier made no attempt to join in on our morning conversations or meet us at the bakery. He even avoided us during lunch. Izzy didn't seem concerned, but I couldn't stop tracking him. He was like a fly trapped in my living room. I followed his every movement, but whenever I felt the need to reach out, he scurried away.
The first week had me angry, the second week had me ignoring him and by the third week I was more curious than before. What was he thinking about? Where did he go? How did he feel?
Even after I apologized I still felt like he was angry—angry at the shoes I gave him or touching his neck—I couldn't be sure. He still wore them, but that didn't say much. Everyone needed shoes.
I carried on with my classes and still hung out at the bakery every once in a while. Izzy's friendship warmed me and life became more enjoyable. I had received another letter from my father, but it sat unopened on my desk. I refused to let it bring me down.
"Has he talked to you?" Izzy asked as I ate greasy cafeteria pizza. I had grown confident enough to venture into our public food system since it was what he ate. The previous three years I stuck to the shaded trees and dark recesses. I'd seen enough movies to know cafeterias were just as dangerous as locker rooms for an unwanted. I guess since one person wanted me ... maybe the term no longer applied.
"No. You?" I replied.
"The usual nod and fist bump. He's been unusually quiet. Even for him."
"Nathan's been quiet too," I said. "You think something's up?"
"I don't know. It's not unlike him to be moody or internal, but this is even more than I've experienced."
"Is it me?" I asked.
Izzy laughed and handed me his chocolate chip cookie. He never ate them because they didn't compare to his mother’s. I, on the other hand, didn't judge chocolate.
"Sey, if it's still you then you've had more of an effect on him than he will ever admit. It might be Gio or Maribel. Things can get dicey with Gianna."
I smiled at the thought of having an effect on Javier. Then focused on his last word. "Gianna?" I asked.
"Gio's mother. She's a bit of a wasteland."
I continued chewing while internalizing all of this new information. "Maribel isn't bad though, is she?"
"No, she's great now. I don't think she was great growing up. Not that she was bad, just absent."
Absent. I knew the feeling. "Is that why Gio is the way he is?"
"How is he?" Izzy asked.
"Silent," I replied. "He doesn't talk. Ever." Unlike the cafeteria which was full of noises. And life busting at
the seams. A group of kids stood on top of a table just opposite us relegating some story from the previous weekend.
Izzy took his time chewing his next bite and then washed the food down with milk. He always drank milk. A side effect from growing up in a bakery. "You know, I always just thought he was quiet, but you're right," he said.
"About?"
"I've never heard him say a single word. Explains why he and Javi are such good friends."
"He's a kid. How close can they be?" I asked. Gio was half his age. What could they possibly have in common?
"Close. Age is relative when it comes to life experience. I'm sure the silence they both share works in their favor." Izzy grabbed a napkin, wiped his face and then finished off his carton of milk.
"Are you going to talk to him?" I asked.
"No. He'll snap out of it when he's ready. As long as he has your shoes on we're okay."
We both laughed. Izzy had a way of keeping things light. It probably helped that he had a solid home life, plenty of siblings and two parents that adored him. I was jealous, but happy it was him. His situation was no longer the norm. The world had been deteriorating for a while. Divorce. Cancer. Abuse. Everyone was touched by something.
We left the cafeteria and stopped outside as students swarmed a row of tables.
I held my bag tight and stood closer to Izzy. "What's going on?" I asked.
"Dance tickets. The Fall Formal is coming up."
My hands clenched with sweat and fear, but a longing I didn't want to face bubbled in my heart. "I've never been."
"To a dance?"
"Nope."
"What? You have to go. It's a high school requirement. At least one," he said.
"No way. I'll have visions of Carrie the whole night. Not going to happen."
"I think you dislike yourself more than the school does," said Izzy. "Sometimes it scares me how similar you two are."
"Who?" I asked.
"You and Javi."
Me and Javi? "Everything from our skin color to our personalities is different. No, we are not the same."
Izzy stood in line behind the other kids, looked at me and pulled his lips to the side. He had such a nice face. Straight teeth, big smile, kind eyes. There was a small scar on his left temple, but it hid behind his hair most of the time.
"If you say so," he replied. He chuckled into the air and then pulled me close, his arm squeezing my shoulder. "I know you think I don't know what you're thinking, but I know. I do. I have eyes."
I craned my neck up to look at him. "You've lost me," I said.
His chuckle returned. "But I've just found you," he said, squeezing me tighter.
We got to the front of the line and then it hit me. I poked him in the side, but he didn't flinch.
"Izzy!" I whispered through clenched teeth. "I'm not going. They don't want me there."
He ignored my pleading and reached into his wallet. "Two tickets, please. One for me and the little lady."
Two tickets? "You're going with me?" I asked, my mouth frowning and eyes crossing.
"Of course. You think I'd send you alone? And what's with that face?" he asked.
I relaxed my eyes and forced my lips to smile. "Sorry, I freaked."
"Do you not want me to come?"
"No, no, no! Of course I want you to go with me. I just ... I didn't ... sorry."
"Didn't think I'd want to go with you?" he asked.
"Exactly. I mean, how come you don't have a girlfriend? You're kind, nice to look at and—"
"Jewish. You forgot the Jewish part," he said.
"What does that matter?"
"Everything matters, Selah. Haven't you figured that out yet?"
Izzy grabbed the tickets and then pulled me away. We walked up the stairs, away from the cafeteria and toward the upper section of lockers.
"It's next Friday. I'll be ready at 8 PM," Izzy said with a wink.
"When should I be ready?" I asked.
"Before 8 PM. See, another flaw in the game of high school. I don't have a car."
"Is that a turn-off for most girls?"
"You tell me?"
"I don't even know what a turn-on is, let alone a turn-off," I said.
Izzy's mouth fell open and he choked on his next breath while laughing. He forced me to follow his lead and we both stood there with our chests shaking and our eyes watering at my admission.
"You've been deprived," he replied. "We must fix that."
"I don't need fixing, Izzy. I'm fine."
We both looked up to see Javier standing by Izzy's locker. He frowned as I poked Izzy's side with mock anger, his arm still wrapped around my shoulders. Izzy didn't drop his hand though; he held on and continued walking.
When he reached Javier, he held out his other fist and they bumped knuckles. "Where've you been?" he asked.
"Around," Javier replied, the same concrete edge from the last three weeks framing his face. He pulled his hand from his pocket and grabbed the envelope of tickets from Izzy. It bowed open as he looked inside.
"Want to come with us?" The words left my mouth without permission. Seeing him this close forced me to reach out. I wanted to see him ... happy?
Izzy tensed at my question but didn't speak up. Javier handed back the tickets and stood still. My arms beaded with sweat at their mutual silence.
He looked up into the sky, down at the floor and then met the space between us—looking neither of us in the eye.
"No," he replied and walked away. His hands trailed the hanging locks and he pulled on the last one before kicking the bottom locker with his foot.
I let out the breath that I had been holding and rested my head against Izzy's side.
"Sorry," I said, the slow gust of air filled with confusion.
"For what?" Izzy dropped his arm and opened his locker, switching out books and grabbing a pen.
"I've upset him."
"If he was upset, someone would be bleeding," said Izzy.
"He's violent?"
"No, he's not, he's too controlled. It's when the control frays that he reacts."
I stared at the small dent in the metal that remained from where his foot connected. The more I observed him, the less I understood.
Izzy lifted my bag from the floor. The strap had fallen in our laughter and he positioned it back on my arm.
"I'll catch you later, okay?"
"Okay," I replied.
We parted ways to finish up the rest of our classes, and for the first time in weeks I was looking forward to going home. My aunt made my mother's spaghetti on Thursdays—her last standing kindness that Frank was unaware of. And tonight I really needed my mom.
Chapter 21
Swing Set
(Javier)
Friday morning Gio was gone before I woke up. His mattress pushed under mine, the sheets folded, and the classical music on. He didn't appreciate it as much as I did, but he seemed to know when I needed more of it. I didn't want to be upset, but I was.
I laced my hands behind my head and stared at the glitter in my popcorn ceiling. Last night I had counted all the way to two hundred and thirty-six before I relaxed enough to sleep. I kicked away the covers and let the chill wake me up. My alarm wouldn't go off for another thirty minutes, but after three weeks I still needed time to prepare. Time to figure things out.
Time to think about what I would say.
I knew there would be questions. Izzy still had questions and had witnessed my moment of greatest weakness. Where he had come to accept them, Selah would push. If I opened the door, I wasn't sure how far I would let her in before slamming it back in her face. My intention wouldn't be to hurt her, but my intentions rarely aligned with my actions. A reason why I feared becoming close to those who wouldn't understand.
The water poured out cold and hard—droplets of needles that helped keep me focused. I stared at the wall where the holes had been repaired and wondered what she would do if I told her. Would she believe me? Would she be afraid? Would she r
un?
I finished showering and let the questions go. We may not even get to that point, but something inside me wanted to tell her.
***
The brick wall greeted me with a smile, but instead of taking a seat, I kept walking. They would wonder where I was, but I couldn't face her just yet.
My feet crunched against the leaves as I turned the corner and headed toward my locker. I opened it up and grabbed a pair of laces that sat on my top shelf. Untying them, I pulled out a small box from my bag and wrapped the laces around its center like ribbon. There was no need to leave a note now, not that I ever did in the past. It was a few weeks late this year, but he'd understand.
I looked up at the metal number on the top of my locker #247 and counted down five doors to my right. The school roster for this year listed another R, two S's and one T. I stopped on #252 and put in the combination he had since freshmen year. So far he'd never changed his lock. It popped open on the first try, and amidst the chaos, I placed the small gift on top of his books and then closed it back. I pulled down on the lock twice just to make sure and scratched my head. Another habit I couldn't stop. A small kindness I'm not sure he deserved anymore.
"Javier." The sound of my name startled me in the quiet. Campus was still empty, except for the occasional early teacher and office secretary.
I turned around and nodded. "Mr. White," I replied.
"You weren't meddling in Nathan's locker, were you?"
"Nope."
He eyed me with several wrinkles lining his forehead, and his arms crossed at his chest. "Things have been quiet. Let's keep it that way. Okay?"
"Yes, Mr. White," I replied. I wasn't up to mischief. If anything it was the opposite, but how could I explain that to him? How could I explain it to anyone? They wouldn't understand. I didn't even understand it myself.
"Good. Hear back from any colleges yet?" he asked. Mr. White generally didn't play nice. His casual banter and concern threw me off.
"A few. One acceptance, two denials." No one else knew that I had applied. Not even my mom. Mr. White understood my perspective and I was grateful.
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