by Tara Kelly
Kari tried to speak, but she choked up halfway through. Roger stood apart from the rest of us, unmoving. And Naomi’s dad had this flat stare the entire time. He reminded me of a blank sheet of paper. Her mom was there too, with her hands over her face, crying.
I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Naomi couldn’t have been in that shiny box. It was too pristine for her. Too clean. She would’ve wanted frayed edges and bright colors. And laughter too. She would’ve hated the tears.
I fell back on Justin’s bed and rolled onto my side. He pressed his body against mine and wrapped his arm around me.
“How’re you doing?” he whispered.
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. I can’t sit around with wads of Kleenex like everyone else. Naomi wouldn’t want that—she’d probably tell me to laugh. But I can’t do that, either. It’s not normal. It’s not right.”
Justin stroked my arm, his breath warm against my ear. “Nothing feels right at first. And there isn’t a normal way to deal with this. If you need to laugh, do it.”
“If I’d been there Friday night, I could’ve talked to her.”
“What would you have said?”
“I could’ve told her everything I liked about her. How she was the first person to give me a chance in a really long time, how much I wanted us to stay friends. That’s why she got so mad at me and ran off with Scott. She thought I didn’t want her around anymore.”
Justin kissed my shoulder. “Naomi had one foot out the door before you even met her, Drea. Don’t blame yourself. You were a good friend to her.”
“Not good enough. I let her leave the day of the garage sale, Justin. And I knew something was wrong. Why didn’t I go after her?” I punched the pillow underneath me. “I could’ve stopped this. I know it.”
“I feel like I could’ve done more too. What? I have no idea. But I’ve been where she was. The more people tried to help me, the less I wanted it. With Naomi, I hoped that being there for her was enough. That our music was enough. But sometimes nothing is enough.”
Lizzie hopped up on the bed and rubbed her face against mine. Her green eyes looked sad and lost—just like me.
“I don’t understand why anyone would choose to need drugs. I’ve spent my entire life wishing I didn’t need them. I feel like a guinea pig all the time.” I ran my fingers through Lizzie’s soft fur. “I want to know who I am without them.”
Justin shifted against me. “I didn’t want my life. I mean—I didn’t want to die, but I wanted to be someone else. Someone who didn’t care about coming home to an empty house. Someone who didn’t feel alone all the time.”
“I feel alone a lot.”
He drew circles against my forearm. “But you aren’t. I’m here for you, and so is your family. You’ve got Lizzie too.”
The cat perked up at her name. Her entire body vibrated under my hand.
“I never told Naomi the truth.”
“I think she picked up on more than you thought. And she cared about you. A lot. She told me to take care of you in her letter.”
“What else did she say?”
He rolled off the bed and walked over to his computer desk. “Come over here and read it.”
I followed and sat in front of his computer. My stomach tensed, and I closed my eyes. It seemed too soon.
“Read it, Drea. I think it will make you feel better.”
My hand shook against the computer mouse. I opened my eyes, swallowing hard. My throat still felt scratchy. It began by telling him she was taking off with Scott, and that she was sorry.
I’ve been planning this escape for a long time. I kept hoping things would get better. They didn’t.
We don’t know each other that well, but I’m glad we got to talk that one night, especially about our dads. I hope yours comes around for you because he should be proud. You’ve got it together. I wish I had your strength, but I’m doing the only thing I know how to do. And that’s to get the hell out of here. No way is anyone going to lock me up. I’m a free spirit who belongs on the road.
Take care of Drea for me. She’s the most real chick I’ve ever met, and you’re lucky to have her. But if you break her heart, well, let’s just say I’ll make a reappearance just to kick your ass. I know you won’t though. You’re a good guy.
I’ll miss you guys and the music we made. You’re an amazing pianist. Don’t EVER stop!
Until next time,
Naomi
I didn’t even realize I was crying until Justin brushed his fingers across my cheek. “I miss her.”
“I know. I do too.” He stroked my hair, his voice cracking.
We held each other as the sunlight faded into dusk. Lizzie cuddled next to our feet. I told him about the day I moved in. How Naomi slobbered in my didgeridoo. He laughed and told me it sounded like something she’d do.
Then he talked about Italy and said that his grandma wasn’t much different from mine. But she’s a better cook.
“I want to take you there in the summer,” he said. “I have a couple musician friends there. We’ll jam. It’ll be cool.”
The idea made me smile, but I still couldn’t get Naomi out of my head. She would’ve really enjoyed a trip like that.
Going back to school was hard. A lot of people asked me about Naomi—they wanted every last detail. Kari eventually told them to fuck off.
Kari and Roger ate lunch with us nearly every day. Most of the time, we talked about music, or anything to fill the hole inside of us. I often looked at the fountain, expecting to see a flash of purple hair. And the locker room was so quiet without Naomi’s incessant teasing. There was nobody to talk about Justin’s butt or to insist that I lighten up. It was amazing how even the most annoying things about a person could be missed.
Roger offered to sing a couple tracks for us. But I wasn’t ready. The mic still belonged to Naomi. People continued to post comments about her voice. One of my favorite indie musicians even wrote me on MySpace, asking if he could work with the vocalist. When I told him what happened, he said he was sorry. Her voice would’ve taken her far, he said. Then he asked me if he could remix “Invisible.” He told me he’d dedicate it to her on his Web site. My heart hurt a little less that day.
It took a month for me to look at the videos we’d filmed of Naomi. Justin and I sat in front of my computer after we’d hooked up the camera. Neither one of us wanted to push play. But we had a project to complete. The world needed to see what we saw in her. A beautiful girl we’d never forget.
“I don’t think I can do this,” I said, looking at the still of her face. I hated the thought of hearing her voice and seeing her smile but not being able to hug her. I couldn’t pause the tape and tell her not to leave. She’d be looking right at me, her eyes wide with some adventure in her head. And I’d see her on the floor of that house. Pale and crumpled.
“We have to try,” he said, moving my hand out of the way. “For Naomi.”
He pushed play and I held my breath.
Naomi walked down Railroad Avenue, her arms spread like she was planning on flying somewhere. She turned and faced us, her head tilting toward the sky. “I wish it would rain today.”
I exhaled slowly. Hearing her voice again warmed me inside.
“Are you only happy when it rains?” Justin asked her, referencing the Garbage song.
Naomi looked at him then, a smile easing across her face. “Maybe.” She spun around, approaching a grubby man with a guitar in his hand.
The guy’s dark eyes widened when she put a hand on his shoulder. And I knew exactly how he felt. Because I felt the same way when she noticed me.
“What’s your favorite thing to do in Bellingham?” she asked him.
“I’m a simple guy,” he said. “I just like to sit here, sing my songs, and hope someone will give me enough change for one of those bagels they sell across the street.”
She followed his gaze. “They’re pretty good, huh?”
“Even one will make my
entire week. They got this jalapeño cream cheese that zings. Gives me the runs, though.” He let out a hoarse laugh.
Naomi dug into her pocket and handed him a few dollar bills. “Here—get some for your friends too. And go easy on the jalapeño!”
He thanked her profusely, and she continued down the street. I hadn’t noticed it when we were filming, but nearly every person stared at her as she passed. Most of them looked curious, even fascinated. She made a lot of people smile too. Everyone she approached—young or old. Maybe it was the purple hair or the fact that she was always humming a song under her breath. But people saw Naomi.
I wished she had watched this with us. Maybe she could’ve seen that she was only invisible to herself.
I saw the real Naomi when we began editing. Everything she never said was in her eyes. I didn’t know how it happened. I was cutting a clip of her singing “Invisible.” The camera zoomed in during these lines: She knows her place in this world. She can tear down its walls and still nobody knows her name. Her smile faded and her face tensed. She eyed the camera under lowered lashes, and her eyes glistened a little. Like she had a tremendous secret buried in her chest. Then she crinkled her brow, parting her lips for the next line. Yeah, she knows her place. But she’s not going down… without a fight. She stared directly at the lens then. Right through me, demanding my attention. I froze the frame and copied it to the time line. The video needed to end here. With that look—the anger and the determination.
And the music video for “Invisible” was born.
F riday, December 14
My last entry of the semester. It almost feels too soon. You asked us to look at our first entry and write about what’s changed and what’s stayed the same since then. Well, a lot has happened since September 10.
History is still boring, and I still have no idea what to write half the time. But Naomi’s words no longer fill the gaps in my mind. She was only in my life for a month, but I still miss her so much. I don’t think I’ll ever stop.
I’ve spent my entire life trying to define this little thing called “normal.” Excuse my language, but what the hell is it? I’ll tell you what it’s not.
1. It’s not smiling when you don’t mean it.
Naomi wore that mask all the time, hoping someone would take it off and see how unhappy she really was. She didn’t know how to be honest with the world. A lot of people don’t. Not even me. I just thought I did because I didn’t buy into the whole fake and plastic thing. I convinced myself that being lonely was better than reaching out to people. Because they’d end up hurting me. So, I told them to go away. But what I really wanted more than anything was a friend. Someone to take me as I am and love me anyway.
I only smile when I want to now. If people don’t like it, that’s tough. It’s who I am. Love me or leave me. Sure, I’ll say please and thank you. When I mean it. If the world calls this a disorder, let them. I call it me. Medication may clear my head some, it might help me be more patient and not freak out over things as much, but it doesn’t change who I am. And it never will.
2. It’s not little white lies. A lie is still just that. A LIE.
A lot of people think it’s acceptable or even right to tell someone they look nice when they don’t. To say you got stuck in traffic when you overslept. To pretend to like someone, even if you can’t stand the sight of them. But most people don’t think it’s okay to lie about the BIG things, which are subjective anyway. Well, I think that’s a really confusing way to live. If you like someone, you tell the truth because that, to me, is respect. If you hate someone, you tell them the truth because what do you have to lose?
3. It’s not small talk.
If you don’t care, don’t ask me how I am. Chances are, I don’t care how you are, either. And it’s not because I don’t respect you or I think you’re a loser. I just don’t know you well enough to care yet. So, let’s pass each other in silence and go on with our lives.
And there you have it. Three socially acceptable things I’ve decided not to accept.
Normal is an ideal. But it’s not reality. Reality is brutal, it’s beautiful, it’s every shade between black and white, and it’s magical. Yes, magical. Because every now and then, it turns nothing into something.
Roger told me that last bit. Actually, it’s in his lyrics. He became the singer of M3 last week. Naomi wasn’t kidding. He can really sing! Kari wants to be our new drummer, so she’s been taking lessons. They’ll never replace Naomi, but they bring something new to the band, and I’m glad they want to be part of it. Even if we don’t always get along. Roger says stupid things sometimes, and Kari still thinks I’m kind of weird. But, like Justin says, we don’t all have to be best friends to make great music together.
My mom and I are still living with Grandma, but Mom thinks we’ll be able to move out by the spring. Grandma’s meals are getting worse, and we still argue sometimes, mostly over my curfew. She doesn’t think I should be at Justin’s past eight! I think we’ve gotten a little closer, though. She lets me play her guitar and even said I could use her basement for band practice after we move out. But I still have to paint the walls back to white before I go.
And last, but not least, it took a lot of lessons from Justin and patience from me, but I did it! I got my license yesterday! I can’t wait to drive by myself.
I’m pretty happy with my life right now, but I still think about Naomi every day. I’d sell my entire guitar collection for one more day with her. And my computer too. I’d dance with her in the rain and tell her how much she meant to me. I don’t know if that could’ve saved her. But it would’ve put a smile on her face. A real one. I don’t know if there is an afterlife, but if there is, I hope she knows her place in this world. It’s inside everyone who knew her. Naomi Quinn was the kind of person nobody forgets.
“I guess you figured out how to write, after all.” Justin smiled after reading my journal.
We sat on his bed, listening to the rain outside. I’d copied my last entry to hang on my wall. It would be there whenever I doubted myself, telling me to never go down without a fight.
“Every now and then, I have something worthwhile to say.”
His lips inched toward mine. “Was that sarcasm?”
“No.”
He smirked. “It should be. Because—”
I smacked his arm. “That cost you a kiss.”
“Everything you say is worthwhile to me. Even when you don’t let me finish a sentence.” He leaned in to kiss me, and I closed my eyes. But a pillow hit my face instead.
“Jerk.” I grabbed another pillow and tickled him until he dropped his. “Rule number one: You might want to hold on to your weapon.”
He squinted at me, shaking his head. “I think I’ve created a monster.”
I held the pillow over my head, like I was going to bring it down on him. But I leaned in and kissed him instead.
“Sneaky,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
He rolled off the bed and turned on some music. “Bus Stop” by the Hollies. Our song. It was perfect with the hiss of the rain. The wind filtered in, making me shiver. I nuzzled under his flannel sheets.
Justin slid into the bed and kissed me without another word. This felt different. More intense. He peeled my shirt off and brushed his fingers across my bare stomach. We’d almost had sex a few times. At least it felt close. But he always stopped before it went too far. It was harder every time, though, for both of us.
I took his shirt off and enjoyed the feeling of his hot skin against mine.
His breath was ragged in my ear. “I love you,” he said.
My heart beat faster. “What?”
He smiled. “You heard me.”
“I…” Love. I knew it was a big deal for him to say it, but what did it really mean?
“It’s okay if you aren’t ready to say it. I just wanted you to know.”
“I can top that. And be specific,” I said. “I love who you are. Because you accept me for who I
am. You make me laugh, sometimes even at myself. And you make me happy.”
He grinned wider. “I can work with that.”
He brought his lips to mine, harder than before. Then he moved down, kissing places that made me shudder. Despite the cool wind blowing against my face, the room felt damp and hot.
I cupped his face. “Do you want to…”
“Yeah, I just need to…” His eyes traveled to the dresser next to us.
“Get something?” I bit my lip.
He rolled onto his back and opened the drawer, pulling out a condom. A short time later, he was kissing me again. His body melted into mine, and I felt dizzy. Like I was in a really good dream. It hurt some, but he was gentle and I saw those stars everyone talked about. For the first time, I felt connected to a rhythm that wasn’t my own.
I rested my head against his chest afterward. His heart was loud and steady in my ear. My legs felt like Jell-O. I wondered if that was normal.
A bright light flashed across his pale blue walls, followed by a loud rumble. Thunder.
“I miss thunderstorms,” Justin said softly. “It’s kind of weird to have one in December, though. Isn’t it?”
I thought of Naomi’s face. The way she glowed as lightning streaked across the sky that one summer afternoon. “We should go outside and dance,” I said.
His chest shook with laughter. “Yeah, right.”
I lifted my head and looked into his eyes. Another flash illuminated the outline of his face. “I’m serious.”
“I think I’d rather cuddle in a warm and dry bed.”
I kissed his cheek. “Suit yourself.” Finding my clothes was quite the scavenger hunt in the dark, but I managed to get everything on in record time.
Justin sat up. The shadows of raindrops moved against his chest. “You’re really going out there?”
“There are certain moments in life you can’t miss. This is one of them.” I stopped by Justin’s bookshelf to give Lizzie a kiss on the head. It had become her favorite perch. “Wish me luck.”
