There were ten cards on the shelf. There are now ten cards in my hand. I didn’t even check to see how much they cost. I head to the register.
I hear Ginny laughing behind me and she says, “Hey, spaz, you left your books over here on the shelf.”
“Oh yeah, let me go put some back. I want to get these cards too, but I don’t have enough money for everything.”
We make our way back to the register so that one of the new faces can ring me up. As she totals up my purchase, she volunteers, “Hey, you know he’s playing here tomorrow night, right?”
“Who?” I ask. I give her what I’m sure is an annoyed look because I am lost in my memories at present. Just ring me up and be done with me already so that I can get back to my daydreaming.
“The guy who designed these cards. Mike Bang. I figured you’d be interested since you bought so many.” She is looking at me like I am some kind of psycho or, worse, not from around here.
“What do you mean ‘playing here’?” I ask. Now, I am truly intrigued. I haven’t heard his name said out loud in years, and I wasn’t quite sure what to make of the effect that the invocation of it just had on my body.
“Mona features singer/songwriters every weekend after hours. She calls it her ‘Create Café’ because she loves to give undiscovered artists a shot,” she giggles at her coffee house pun.
I already know the answer to my next question but am curious to know what others think about him; so I ask, “Is he any good?”
She breaks a huge grin out. “Oh, yeah! He’s super talented and,” she leans in to whisper, fanning herself, “super cute!”
“So, you said he’s playing here tomorrow night,” I say with sudden interest in conversing with her. “What time?”
Chapter Three
The Joke’s on Me
I remember leaving the store and getting in the car and saying goodbye to Ginny and Aubrey. But pretty much everything after that is a blur. I’m pretty sure I ate and hung out with my family a little. I remember a drab game of Clue in which I, very uncharacteristically, did not win. I’m lying in bed now, so I must’ve had a shower and readied myself for bed. I have been so preoccupied with thoughts of Michael that I have been on autopilot all evening.
I stare at each of the cards one at time, poring over and analyzing every little detail. Of the ten, there are four different designs. The rest are various copies of the four. In my haste, I didn’t even notice that they weren’t all unique. Each of the four roses is quite unique, though. I suddenly recall how Michael had never drawn me the same rose twice. His very mood decided the type of rose I would receive.
It had been so very long since I’d held one of his roses in my hand. It had been so very long since I’d even seen him. Our last conversation comes flooding back to me, and I push the memory away violently. It wasn’t a favorable one.
Instead, I search for a different memory. A peculiar one springs to mind. One that I had never really reconciled. Sometimes, I marvel at the way my scheming mind used to work. Even with all my scheming, though, things always had a way of backfiring on me.
Because Michael was on to me and so much wiser, he had loved every minute of my torture. I didn’t think it was very funny at the time, but I can laugh about it now. I will never forget the look on Stacy’s parents’ faces when I set her and Michael up to go on a double date with me and Tony. It was so ridiculous that it was absolutely priceless.
Michael had actually backed off of his constant hounding of me to go out with him. We had become friends again—even best friends. This was how I loved us. He was my confidant, my rock, my everything. But every time he pushed, I fled. He hadn’t pushed in forever. I was ecstatic, yet I was desolate. Was he finally over me? I decided to test him, so I offered to fix him up with Stacy. He accepted without blinking or seeming to think twice. I throw my head back on my pillow as I allow the memory to take me back.
Michael met me after biology and offered to carry my books for me. I shrugged him off and said, “You know it would be cool if we could hang out more without arousing Tony’s suspicions. He doesn’t get the whole ‘best guy friend thing.’ Why don’t you go out on a double date with us? I could invite Stacy?”
“Sure, OK. Why not?” he said nonchalantly.
Something inside me protested and my stomach churned; but instead of giving a voice to all of that, I said, “Cool. I’ll set it all up. Friday?”
“Yeah, OK.”
That was easy, I thought. He really must be over me. He didn’t even flinch or protest like he had when I had pressured him to date in the past. Stacy was going through her rebellious phase, so I knew a date with Michael would seem like the perfect ammunition to start a good fight with her parents, but she might also like Michael. He was unpredictable enough to challenge her, and she would like that.
Friday night rolled around. My mom would only let me go out on double dates since I was only in ninth grade, so I was not allowed in Tony’s car alone with him. Tony picked Michael up first, and then they came to my house. I heard Tony blow his horn, so I started outside. As I put my hand to the door, the doorbell chimed. It was Michael. He looked adorable. He wore all white with a skinny, loosely knotted turquoise tie. His sleeves were rolled up. The first two buttons were undone so that his pewter cross was visible. The all white was in direct contrast to his dark skin. I’d never seen him dressed up before. I told him how cute I thought he looked. If his dark brown skin could’ve blushed, I know his cheeks would’ve been pink. “What?!” I said. “I can think my friend looks adorable, can’t I?!”
He gave me the quintessential teenager reply, “Whatever.”
I noticed that Tony was still sitting in the car as I was shutting the door. I said, “Don’t say it. I know.”
“Know what?” he asked.
“Know that Tony’s a jerk.” I laughed nervously because bashing my current boyfriend had gotten us dangerously close to trouble one time before. “Anyway, I’m only dating him until Homecoming and then we’re breaking up.”
“‘We’re breaking up’? Sounds like you’re breaking up,” he replied with a cocked eyebrow.
I shrugged.“Yeah, I know. It’s just inevitable. I know he’s not the boy for me so why prolong it.”
“That’s exactly what I told you two weeks ago,” he reminded me sardonically.
I just raised my eyebrow as a response since we were now within hearing range. Michael opened my door for me and hopped in the back.
When we got to Stacy’s, Tony’s chivalry had unexpectedly revived itself. He opened my door, and we all went in to get her. I entered first and called for Stacy. Her parents must’ve heard me because they quickly joined us in the living room. I watched their faces go from composed to shocked to horrified and back to composed in the space of about 3.5 seconds. I actually had to turn my head to keep from laughing aloud. As I did, I caught Michael’s eye, and I actually got kind of pissed as I realized the reality of their disdain. Did Michael notice? If he did, did it bother him? I was beginning to regret my impulsiveness in setting up this experimental double date.
They had collected themselves enough to introduce themselves. By that time, Stacy had joined us. She looked positively pleased with herself. I pursed my lips and silently begged her with my eyes to get us out of there.
Her parents began asking the usual questions. Where are ya’ll going? What time will the girls be home? Etcetera, etcetera. Then, out of nowhere, Michael, what is your family background, son? I turned to look at Michael. Who very calmly stated, “American Indian—Choctaw, sir. And yours?”
When he said this, Stacy and I both lost it. I needn’t have worried about Michael. He was perfectly capable of holding his own. Her parents shot us a dirty look. And, Stacy’s dad answered with all seriousness, “Irish.”
As we’re heading out of the house, I hear Stacy murmur, “Thanks. That’s exactly the reaction I’d hoped for.” They shared a laugh, and I fumed. I had no idea why it ticked me off so much that they h
ad bonded over that moment; but from that moment on, I found myself stealing glances at them. Well. Didn’t they seem to be hitting it right off? I couldn’t fathom what she saw in him. I couldn’t fathom what he saw in her. This was supposed to be a little experiment. I never really thought that it would actually go this far and that they might actually like each other. At this point, all I really wanted to do was punch both of them in the face, and I didn’t even really know why!
I tried to pinpoint my irrational anger and a terrible thought occurred to me. Michael really was over me and falling for Stacy. But was she falling for him too? Crap. What if all she could see was his potential to piss off her parents? What if she breaks his heart? I didn’t know the answers to any of my musings. All I knew was that I was a horrible person for having set him up to get hurt.
When the guys dropped us off at Stacy’s, I followed Stacy in her house to have our sleepover; but all I really wanted was to go home. I thought about calling my mom and pretending to be sick, but any night away from my responsibilities waiting for me at my house was a good night. So I tried to get over it. Inevitably, Stacy and I started rehashing the night; she recounted how many times Tony’s gaze lingered on me and how many times he “accidentally” touched me. I changed the subject and told her how much Michael’s friendship meant to me and that I was glad that they had hit it off.
She looked at me like I was the village idiot and barked, “I couldn’t possibly date Michael for real. You know that. I just did it to piss off my parents. Mission accomplished. They told me when I went to their room to check in that we’re going car shopping tomorrow, which is exactly what I had hoped for. Can you imagine me driving my brother’s hand-me-down?!”
I felt tears spring to my eyes. If that’s really all it was, why did she seem to have such a good time with him? She hung on his every word, laughed at all his jokes, and shared food with him. It all seemed a little too personal to have been faked on either part. Now, I really did feel sick to my stomach. Calling my mom suddenly seemed like a great idea.
On the ride home, I let myself consider all of the implications of what Stacy’s little rebellious standoff might have. What if Michael really did like her? What then? He would be crushed. He didn’t deal well with rejection. I knew that all too well. I had set him up for this. I just had to have a little experiment to see if he really was over me. I felt like a naïve, meddling nitwit.
Once I was at home, I sneaked the phone to my room and called him, breaking my phone curfew. Customarily, I hung up on the first ring.
I called him right back. He answered on the first ring. “You know, you don’t have to do that anymore. My brother doesn’t care, and he won’t tell a soul,” he said sleepily.
“I know. It’s just habit,” I snapped back.
“Er…What’s with all the hostility?”
“I’m sorry.” I said aloud. To myself, I amended my apology to I’m sorry for existing.
“For what?”
“For setting you up with Stacy.” To myself, for acting like I don’t care about you when clearly I do. I just don’t know what to do with that.
“Oh yeah? Why’s that? I had fun.”
“Yeah. You really liked her, and she’s a spoiled little brat.” And I’m the biggest brat of them all.
“Yeah. I know, but it was fun hanging out with her and helping her piss off her parents.”
“What? You were in on it?” My voice rose incredulously.
“In on what exactly?”
“On Stacy getting her way and her new car.”
“I don’t know anything about that.”
“You knew she was using you, though?”
“Of course, you’d have to be completely oblivious to not have known that that’s why she agreed to go out with me in the first place.”
It was the first time I’d ever hung up on him. Almost two years we’d been talking, and he’d pissed me off on countless occasions, but I picked that moment to hang up on him. The cool part was he wouldn’t dare call me back for fear of getting me nice and grounded. Or so I thought. When my phone rang, I nearly jumped out of my skin. “Hello?” I breathed.
“Don’t ever hang up on me again,” he said through his teeth.
I’d never heard him get angry with me before. I cringed. Then, a part of me delighted. I didn’t get that. “That’s what you get for calling me oblivious,” I shot back. “You know better than to call me. If my mom had picked up and realized the phone was for me at this hour…”
He ignored my protests. “I wasn’t calling you oblivious. You’re just too kindhearted to get that she was only using me for my good looks and rebellious appeal,” he snickered, losing his anger quickly.
I contemplated this a moment and decided to level with him. “I’m not kindhearted. I set you up as a test, and I knew that was the only reason she would go out with you. It’s just that you two seemed so—”
“Yeah. I knew that too.”
“Really? Why, then, did you agree to go?” He was really starting to piss me off. Freaking know-it-all.
“Because you wanted to know whether or not I was over you, and I wanted to know what you were like when you were on a date.” He hesitated for the briefest of moments before he proceeded to completely blow my mind. “When we finally have our time together, I want to know that it’s different for you. That I’m different from the boys you date.”
I heard my sharp intake of breath. There it was. He was back. Hadn’t I known that he really hadn’t gone anywhere, though? He didn’t skip a beat.
“Lorraina, you had to have known that I was bluffing when I acted like I was over you. I have your initials tattooed on my arm. I have your face tattooed in my brain. I have your soul tattooed in my heart.”
“Damn it, Michael! What the hell?!” I demanded as loudly as I could without being discovered. Why did my heart do that thing again? “You’re the one who’s oblivious. We. Will. Never. Be. Together. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is. If we can’t just be fr—”
“You know. I really hate it when you cuss. It’s very unbecoming. You’re far too beautiful to be that foul. Besides, didn’t you learn your lesson about profanity last school year?”
Of course that was the part he heard! How many times over the years had I begun that sentence only to be silenced with his acquiescence or deflection? “I’ve gotta go. I don’t feel very well.”
“K. Call me tomorrow, K?
“Yeah. OK.”
As I was lowering the receiver, I heard him whisper, “I love you, Lorraina. Only you. Forever.”
“Fuuuuuck!” I screamed inside my head. It reverberated throughout my body and I pushed the air of my lungs forcefully, throwing myself back on my bed. I promptly curled into a ball and cried myself to sleep. I kept asking myself why I was crying. But I had no idea, which brought a new round of tears.
I jolt awake, look at the clock, and blink; it’s two in the morning. I run my hand over my chest. I must have dozed off thinking about him because he has just starred in the most unexpected, shockingly pleasant dream I’ve ever had. My heart is beating rapidly, and my throat aches for a drink of water. I grab the glass beside my bed and drain it of its contents in one gulp. I take a deep, steadying breath, trying to hold tight to the images from my dream. It wasn’t the first time I’d dreamt of him over the years. It was, however, the first time I’d dreamt a dream like that. Huh, I thought only guys dreamt like that.
Chapter Four
Gotta Get It All out on Paper
Since I can’t go to back to sleep and can’t get into one of the books I had purchased, I decide to do something I haven’t done in years. I reach into the back of my nightstand to find my journal. I open it up and thumb through my memories from my senior year of high school. Just as I had hoped, there was plenty of blank paper because I had stopped journaling shortly before graduation. So many memories were fighting to get through that I felt the need to get them down on paper.
It was the craziest
feeling. I was seeing Michael in a whole new light—one where doubt and fear didn’t plague my every emotion where he was concerned. For years, I struggled with my need for him. I never was quite sure where I stood. I loved him being my best friend. At times, I wanted him to be more than that, though. Every time I thought about giving into that desire, he would do something that would make me doubt that it would be good for me. His intensity scared me, yet I couldn’t walk away.
I had already made up my mind what I wanted out of tomorrow, well tonight. Now, I just had to bide my time and figure how to handle the impending situation. Writing out my memories might just help me do that. I quickly write down my memory from before I had fallen asleep. Then, I move on to the first time I’d ever heard his name.
It was early in my eighth grade year, and my brothers and I were waiting at the bus stop. I was reading some Nancy Drew, and they were seeing how far they could throw their rocks across the road. Suddenly, Jerome is standing beside me. I look up and demand, “What?”
He says, “Don’t be mad at me, but I forgot that I was supposed to tell you something.”
“OK. I promise I won’t be mad. What is it?” If I get in trouble for doing or not doing something, I was gonna wring his neck.
“Well, I was supposed to tell you that Mike Bang has decided to marry you,” he explains.
That was one thing I never expected Jerome to say to me, so I didn’t really have a response. I don’t even know who Mike Bang is. Nervous laughter bubbles out of me, “What are you talking about? I don’t even know anybody by that name?”
“Yeah, you do. You just don’t talk to him. He sits in the back of the bus with all the older kids. He’s in like 9th grade and…” my brother starts to get distracted by the rock throwing competition and tries to walk off mid-sentence.
“Hey! Wait a second? Are you talking about the boy with the really black hair and dark skin? He lives by the Taylors?”
“Yeah, that’s him. He told me that he hung out with Daddy at the river this summer and knows all about you. He says he’s going to marry you one day.” With that, Jerome rejoins he competition.
Every Rose Page 2
