by Tara Taylor
“That sucks,” I replied. “At least you didn’t have to switch schools.”
“I wanted to,” he whispered. “Ridgemont scares me. I wish I didn’t have to go swimming today in phys ed. I hate phys ed.”
Something in his hushed tone made me glance at him. The poor kid had fear stamped all over his face; he was a walking target for ridicule. To put on a bathing suit in a locker room full of macho guys must be so awkward for him.
“Just pretend you’re sick,” I said. “And sit and watch from the sidelines. I’ve done that before.” I faked a cough, and Nathan laughed.
Suddenly, I felt a push on the middle of my back and I had to brace my hands on the seat in front to stop from flying forward. I turned around. The girl behind me was slouched in her seat with headphones shoved in her ears. Her feet were on the ground and not on the seat. Had she kicked my seat?
“What’s the matter?” Nathan asked.
I faced front again. “Did you feel that girl kick the seat?”
He shook his head. “Sometimes they do that to me.” Then he smiled broadly at me, showing a mouthful of metal. “But not when I’m with you. Thanks again for sitting with me and for giving me advice on my stupid swimming class.”
He faked a cough, which made us both burst out laughing.
John didn’t meet me at my locker, and I had no idea why. Since we had started going out, he’d met me every morning. I stuck my pager in my pocket, just in case he called. My brother had just given me his old pager, and I had given John the number. When he called, I always pretended I needed to use the bathroom to step outside and get to a phone. In my hurry to get my books, I knocked a bunch of stuff out of my locker.
I bent over and randomly gathered everything, and that’s when I saw Lacey’s silver best friend necklace on the tiled floor. I threw all the rest of my crap on the shelf then bent back down to pick up the necklace.
It was tangled, with several small knots and one really big one.
I shoved it in my pocket, threw my books in my backpack, and slammed my locker door shut.
As I walked to class, my mind was a jumble of thoughts. I had felt a kick to my seat even if Nathan hadn’t. What was with that? And I’d seen a shovel last night at John’s? And I’d dreamed about everything, even Lacey’s necklace. And now it was tangled in my pocket.
I hardly heard a word in math, and by the end of the class, I had a full page of doodles. Still immersed in my thoughts, I got up to leave and shouldered someone, causing me to lose my balance and sending my books tumbling to the floor.
“Watch where you’re going,” Lacey muttered.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, bending over to pick up my books for the second time that day. Of the 30 people in class, I would have to pick Lacey to smack into. I thought about the necklace. Had that been a sign that I was going to run into her today? Was I supposed to pick up on these signs?
When I stood, I was so hoping she would have vacated the room, but she was still standing there. Now she was eyeing me instead of glaring.
“I wish you hadn’t ruined our friendship,” she said, holding her books in front of her.
“I was honest with you,” I said.
“Honest?” She paused. “You lied to me.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Yes, it was!”
“No, it wasn’t. I was trying to warn you. Help you.”
“Warn me about what? Burke? Just admit it, Indie, you were jealous of my relationship with him. That he took me away from you.”
“Jealous? I was happy for you.” I pulled my books around in front of my chest.
“He doesn’t cheat on me, you know,” she said. “He drove you home from that party, and you wanted him for yourself, so you said that to me.”
“What?”
“That’s it. Isn’t it? You made up the vision. And took John as second best.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. She had no right to bring John into this. I was about to scream at her, when I caught myself. I didn’t want to hurt her any more than I already had. Plus, I remembered the man’s voice coming to me, telling me we would one day be friends again. I lowered my voice and said, “I valued our friendship and was never ever jealous. I admired you. I still do. I only ever wanted what was best for you. I wanted to tell you the truth.”
“Truth?” She laughed, mean undertones lacing the sound. “And, tell me, are you sharing the same truthful relationship you had with me with your new boyfriend? Does he know about you? Like, really know? Like I know?”
“John and I have nothing to do with you and me.”
“Girls!” A loud voice boomed from the front of the room. Both Lacey and I turned at the same time. Mr. Leonard stood by his desk with his hands on his hips. “Take your catfight outside my classroom—preferably outside the school grounds and somewhere far away. Go to the mall.”
Without looking at Lacey, I ran from the classroom, down the hall, and straight to the girls’ bathroom, where I pushed by the makeup queens who felt it necessary to reapply blush and lipstick between classes. I locked myself in a stall, put the toilet seat down, and sat with my head in my hands. My body shook. My head throbbed. And sweat dripped from my pores. In all our years as friends, Lacey and I had never had a fight. I pulled out the necklace and tried to untangle it, but my hands were trembling so much that it was useless. Tears slid down my cheeks. This was all because of my stupid visions. Would my visions also ruin my relationship with John? I couldn’t let that happen. I would kill myself if we broke up. Would I ever have anything normal in my life? I looked at the chain. It was really tangled.
I wanted to be normal.
Normal.
I shoved the necklace back into my pocket and hugged my knees. I didn’t want to be me. I was stupid, crazy, a freak of nature. I sat on the toilet for a few more minutes, rocking back and forth, waiting for the queens to head off to their next class. When I was convinced that no one was in the washroom, I wiped my eyes with toilet paper and unlocked the stall door. At the sink, I ran the water and splashed it on my face, then I reached for a paper towel. As I dried my face, I glanced in the mirror.
It was then that I saw the words, written in lipstick in big red letters: INDIE IS A FREAK!
I gasped. Everything swirled around me. The sinks, mirrors, and brick walls went around and around me, and it was as if I stood alone in the center of a tornado. The red lipstick words flashed, like a blinding neon light. I closed my eyes to get away from it all, to make it stop. I pressed my feet into the floor to keep my balance. The room moved in slow motion, and the spinning got slower and slower with every second. It was as if it were running out of batteries. Within a few seconds, calmness surrounded me, cloaked me almost. Still shaking, I opened my eyes and again stared directly into the mirror, only this time, there were no words. They were gone. Just like that.
I grabbed the sides of the sink, bent my head over, and tried to breathe. This was so crazy.
Don’t hate yourself for who you are.
The man’s voice. Why didn’t he leave me alone? “Don’t talk to me now,” I whispered softly. “Not at school. Please.”
I heard the washroom door open and managed to stand upright. Whoever it was could not hear me talking to an imaginary voice. I played with my hair in front of the mirror.
Sarah ran in and headed straight to the stall. “I gotta pee so bad.”
I faked a laugh and said, “And I gotta get to class.”
Her stall door shut, and I hurried out, pushing the red words to the back of my mind. I had to. What else could I do? If I took them as a sign that something bad was going to happen to me, to John and me, then I was doomed. The hall was empty, and I walked in a daze toward my next class, thankful that today was Friday.
For the entire class, I checked my pager. John still hadn’t called. What was wrong?
Secrets. They have a way of being dug up with spade shovels.
By lunch, I still hadn’t heard from John,
and I must have checked my pager 100 times. The bell rang, and I tossed my lunch in the garbage and headed out to the smoking area, scanning the school grounds to see if John was reading under a tree somewhere, even though it was freezing outside; winter was definitely on the way.
But he was nowhere. I breathed the cold air; the temperature had to be hovering around freezing, and there was a mist that clouded the air and made visibility difficult. Almost like my relationship with John; nothing was ever clear.
I shivered and wondered if it would snow before Halloween. I sure hoped not. Of course, Sarah, Zoe, Carly, and the rest of their friends were hanging out in the smoking area. I approached them, although I wasn’t sure I really fit in. Sure, we had our band, but was I really one of them? Who did I fit in with?
John. I fit in with John. He made me feel normal. He made me feel alive and free. It was ironic in a way, because even though he was dark and brooding, he made me feel lighter. I loved the Police song “Every Breath You Take” because that was John and me. He was my every breath. I had to have him in my life.
Where was he today?
“Hi ya, Indie.”
I waved and pulled out my cigarettes.
“We were thinking we should have another rehearsal,” said Carly. “March will be here before we know it.”
“It’s not even Halloween yet.” Zoe laughed at Carly. “But you’re right, we need to think of some new songs,” said Zoe.
I had a hard time focusing on the conversation, because I was so worried about John. He liked to skip, but usually he let me know. Empty, hollow, I missed him and needed him, especially now with all of this Lacey stuff.
“So what are you up to tonight?” Sarah asked, interrupting my thoughts. “You going out with John again? We really need to rehearse.”
I shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“Do you not want to be in the band?” Carly asked.
“Yeah, of course I do,” I replied.
“Well, come hang with us girls for one night,” said Sarah. “My parents are gone. We can make as much noise as we want.”
I pretended to laugh. “You saying we just make noise?”
Sarah bumped me with her shoulder. “Yeah, but if we’re drunk enough, it will sound good. We can start with Baileys and coffee after school.”
“Maybe,” I said with reluctance.
“Come on, Indie. You always have an excuse. We need you in the band.”
“Okay,” I conceded. How would I tell John that I couldn’t see him because I had a band practice? He hated the band.
Time crept by, and I doodled at least five pages in my afternoon classes. I must have scrawled John’s name out 50 times. He didn’t show up at school, nor did he page me. I tried to call him a few times, but there was no answer at his house.
So I went to Sarah’s after going home to get my guitar.
True to her word, Sarah produced a big bottle of Baileys from her parents’ liquor cabinet, and from the refrigerator, she pulled out a carton of chocolate milk. “We’ll throw this in the bottle. It will go sour, and my mother will think the booze is bad and say she’s going to take it back, but she never does. Then it will get tossed, and no one will know.”
“You know all the tricks,” said Zoe.
We drank the Baileys, then we went downstairs. I slung my guitar on my shoulder and tuned it while Sarah set up her drums, Zoe changed a string on her bass, and Carly played around on her keyboard.
“Okay,” said Sarah. “Are we ready? Let’s start with ‘Superman’s Dead.’ One, two, three …”
I started to play and sing with Sarah, although I was a little unsure of the words because I had missed the last rehearsal because of John. Sarah was our lead singer, and I did backup. We made it through the entire song, which was a feat for us. Usually, we ended up stopping halfway through.
“Wow,” said Carly when we hit the last chord. “That was amazing.”
“Yeah,” said Sarah, holding up her drumsticks. “We rock!”
“We are going to have those animals at the shelter dancing!” Carly ran her fingers down her keyboard, ending with the lowest note and a snap of her fingers.
“That was so awesome!” I said. My body vibrated with energy. I could feel my heart beating, and in a good way. It was exhilarating.
“You need to stop missing rehearsal, girl,” Sarah said to me.
Then she did a drumroll before she said, “All we need is five songs. Just a quick set. And playing at this fund-raiser will be way better than playing at the school talent show in May.”
“I wouldn’t play at the school if they paid us,” I said.
“Why?” Zoe asked. “Would John not approve?”
“You’ve missed so many rehearsals because of him,” uttered Carly.
Sarah glanced at me quickly, then said, “Well, Bad Girls, I think the success of that song deserves another drink.”
I hadn’t eaten all day, so after the next drink, which I chugged, I started to feel the effects of the alcohol. The girls just didn’t understand what it was like to be involved, like I was, with John. But, they were right. I was missing practice because of him, and I really liked being in the band. When I went to the bathroom, I checked my pager again. No call. Was he avoiding me? We went downstairs, played a few more songs, and then attempted to do a new one. It bombed, and we laughed hysterically.
“I’m done,” said Zoe, taking her guitar off her shoulder.
“Me too,” said Sarah placing her drumsticks on her drum. “I’m starving. Are you staying, Indie?”
“I’m not sure,” I said.
“Figures,” said Carly. “Gotta go see the boyfriend.”
I ignored her, put my guitar away, and went to the bathroom, where I sat on the toilet seat and checked my pager again. Why hadn’t John answered any of my calls?
Upstairs, I quickly used the phone but got his voice mail. Sarah threw a frozen pizza in the oven. I decided to stay and drink, because I needed to forget about John.
After downing more than I needed, Zoe put on the Police, and we danced in her kitchen, laughing as we stumbled and fell. I liked the numbing feeling of the alcohol.
“Hey,” I slurred, “play ‘Every Breath You Take.’ That’s my favorite song of theirs.”
When the song came on, I sang along with it, thinking about how I wanted John to belong to me and how my heart did ache with every step he took. I wanted to sing to him, tell him how I felt.
At the beginning of the song, the girls laughed, then about halfway through, they quieted down and just listened. When it was over, Sarah pumped her fist and said, “We have to do that song with our band! Indie, you can be lead.”
“Sing it, girl,” yelled Carly. She started the song all over again.
This time I didn’t want to sing to John; I wanted to be funny. I used my fist to make a pretend microphone, then I slid across the kitchen floor as if I were a true rock star. This made the girls howl in laughter. On the outside I was funny, but on the inside I was hurting. I kept the show going for the entire song.
When the Baileys bottle emptied, Sarah pulled out a big bottle of vodka. Orange juice replaced chocolate milk. I got drunker and drunker, and my life got hazier and hazier.
Our conversation veered to Halloween and our costumes, and we planned the party that was going to be at Zoe’s. Tonight the booze was fun and made me forget about John and … that I was a crazy freak of nature. Had he found out about me? Was that why he wasn’t calling me?
When we were all really drunk, Sarah slung her arm around me and asked, “So, have you and John had sex yet?”
Everyone stopped dancing and started giggling. “Yeah, we’re all dying to know if he’s any good,” slurred Zoe. “We think he’d be so amazing.”
“Yeah.” Carly almost fell into the counter, which made me giggle along with the girls. “Tell us, Indie,” urged Carly.
I shook my head and put up my hands. “Noooo way.” I pressed my hands to my heart. “What we have
is sacred.”
“Oh. My. Gawd,” squealed Sarah. “You’re so in loooove.”
“I’d like to be in love,” slurred Zoe. “No one likes me. What’s it like to be in love?” Zoe tried to sit on a chair, but missed it by a foot and landed on the floor. “I want a boyfriend, too.”
I raised my arms in the air and danced in circles. “It’s the best feeling in the world. The best feeling in the world.” I kept repeating myself. Then I pressed play on the CD player.
“Not again,” said Carly. “We’ve listened to that song a gazillion times.”
I held up my finger. “Just once more, ‘kay?”
Again, I sang, pretending that John belonged to me. I kept singing until the spinning made me lose my balance. The girls helped me stand up then walked me to Sarah’s bed, where I must have passed out.
At noon the next day, I caught the bus home from Sarah’s. The alcohol sloshed and swished in my stomach, and I just wanted to throw up. Because it was Saturday, only three other people were on the bus. I made my way to the back and sat down, sliding over on the vinyl seat to be close to the window and putting my guitar beside me. The window glass was cold; condensation bordered the bottom. The weather was hovering at the in-between stage, where it wasn’t quite winter yet but the nice fall weather was over. I ran my finger through the water droplets, making swirling marks. Were John and I done, just like the warm autumn air? Were we a one-season couple?
Soon it would be nothing but cold outside, every day, every hour. Was my winter going to be cold without him? The cold would match my insides. Cold. Ice cold. Why hadn’t John paged me? Had I done something wrong? Said something he didn’t like?
Only my mother had paged me.
I tried to close off my mind, get a picture of John and where he was. But nothing happened, and I couldn’t get my mind to still long enough to even see the white page. Too many questions ran through my brain. Why did I have such a hard time seeing anything for myself? I was so immersed in thought that I didn’t hear anyone approaching me. Then I heard the small, squeaky voice. “Can I sit with you, Indie?”
