Clouds That Were (Weathered Hearts)

by Addison Footit

  One of these days, I will work up the courage to talk to her, knowing that when I do, I am getting involved. Yet I refuse to let anything happen to her. I couldn’t save my mom, but maybe I can save her.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Tenley

  About half-way home, I realize that the new boy at school is about a block and a half behind me. I have no idea where he lives, but if he lives anywhere near me, he should have taken the bus with everyone else.

  When I made the decision to walk home, part of the reason was the park that’s on the way. One of the only happy memories I have from when I was little is of my grandpa pushing me on the swings. I had really bad asthma when I was young, so I wasn’t able to play outside. He would take me with him on weekends to the store or wherever he was going, and then he would stop at the park so that I could swing. It was our little secret, however, just between us. So still, every time I see a park with swings, I am brought back to that time in my life when it seemed as though everyone loved me, and all was right in the world. That feeling comes back even more when I am able to swing. Ironically, I have to be just as secretive about it now, as my grandpa and I did then. Just for different reasons.

  Walking into the park, I choose the swing furthest from the road. There is a tree that blocks this particular swing from the passing cars. I choose this one so that just in case my mother drives by, she won’t be able to see me. It’s hard to bring back that feeling when I am watching all the cars pass by, for fear she might see me.

  Once I get on the swing, I pump my legs slowly at first, but then faster and faster until I am going as high as I possibly can. I lean back, kick my legs out straight in front of me, and close my eyes letting the swing slow down on its own. For a moment, I can forget how awful my life is and just be that little girl in the park again.

  The swing still barely swinging, I pull myself upright and open my eyes. New boy is just standing there watching me with an odd look on his face. He’s probably wondering who I am. People don’t notice invisible girls until they are all alone.

  He walks toward me now as I sit swinging back and forth.

  “Hi. My name is, uh, Chase.”

  “I know who you are; you are the only new kid we have had at our school in like two years.”

  “Oh, well, do you mind if I swing with you? I haven’t been on a swing since I was about six,” he says shyly doing that thing with his hair again.

  “Go ahead; it’s not my park.”

  I don’t really like that this kid followed me. Don’t get me wrong: with that dark hair that is too long, but perfect all the same, and piercing blue eyes, he isn’t hard to look at, but still, kind of arrogant to just assume I would want to talk to him. He hasn’t even glanced at me for two weeks and now I am just supposed to be grateful that he decided to talk to me?

  “Aren’t you going to tell me your name?”

  “Um, sure, it’s Tenley.”

  “That’s a pretty name, I haven’t heard that before.”

  “Yeah thanks.”

  “So do you come here often?”

  Did he seriously just ask me that?

  “Did you seriously just ask me that?”

  “No, I didn’t… I didn’t mean it that way.” I can see his cheeks flush and can tell he is clearly embarrassed.

  “I know, I just thought… never mind. No, I don’t come here often.”

  That’s all I need is him thinking I am an even bigger loser than he already thinks I am. Yes, every day after school I come and swing on the swings like a toddler. How could a guy resist that level of utter coolness?

  “Are you going to the homecoming game?”

  “No, I am grounded.”

  “Mind if I ask what you did?”

  Man, he is really nosy. I could lie I suppose, but what would be the point? As soon as he walks away, he isn’t going to remember me or anything I say anyway, so I might as well just be honest.

  “You can ask; it’s fine. I was supposed to ride the bus home, but I decided to walk instead. That’s why I am grounded.”

  “But you aren’t even home yet,” he chuckles. “How do you know you’ll be grounded?”

  “I always am. Sometimes I do stuff on purpose, though, just so I know why, like today.”

  No one knows about her or my life, and I like it that way. What is with me? Honesty is one thing, but telling him everything is just stupid.

  “Well, I am sure your boyfriend is disappointed that you can’t go to the dance tomorrow.” Now he is looking at me with hopeful eyes, waiting for me to say I don’t have one.

  “Yeah, I am sure that he is crushed.” He was clearly fishing for more information, and that’s where I draw the line. “Listen, this has been a nice little chat, but I really should get home.”

  “Do you mind if I walk with you the rest of the way home?”

  “Actually yeah, I do. It’s really far; I should probably just go myself. I really just want to be alone. Which is why I walked instead of taking the bus like I normally do.”

  “Well, I have a small confession. I ride the same bus as you every day and I have been watching you. Today I was waiting for you to get on the bus, and when you didn’t, I looked out of the window and saw that you were walking. I know where you live because I live right across the street; and I didn’t like the idea of you walking five miles home all by yourself, so I followed you.”

  “Wow, that isn’t creepy at all.” I say, as I begin walking away. He has been watching me? No one pays any attention to me at all, but the hot new guy has been watching ME? I don’t know how to deal with this.

  “No, Tenley, wait, please. I’m new here, I have no friends, and when I saw you on the first day, there was just, I don’t know, you just look so sad all the time. I wanted to know why. I still want to know why. Ever since that first time I saw you I have just had this overwhelming urge to protect you; I just don’t know from what.”

  I stand there for a second and just stare at him. I’m sure if I were able to see myself right now, I’d see that my jaw is resting on the top of my feet, I am so shocked. “Well, someone should probably save me from the creepy stalker guy that followed me home from school today. I have to go. Thanks, I guess.”

  I continue to walk away from him, still wondering why he is watching me, of all people. A guy like him should definitely be going to the dance tomorrow, and he should have a date, though it doesn’t seem like it. He seemed very interested in the status of my date, and if he had his own, why would he care about mine?

  I can feel his presence behind me the rest of the walk, but he makes no further effort to talk to me, which is good. I don’t know what I would say. I have kept to myself for so long, I don’t really deal well with people. Especially guys. Especially hot guys. The only thing that conversation with him accomplished was to reassure me that my ability to push people away is still going strong. Be rude to hot guys who talk to you. Works every time.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Chase

  The bell startles me out of my train of thought, and I quickly pack up my stuff and get outside to watch for her to catch the bus. I always try to get outside so that I can get on the bus and save my seat for her. But every time someone pushes their way into my seat whether I let them or not. She always sits in the far back and always ends up sitting with a guy. Different guys, however. And they all try to get her attention, but she doesn’t even notice. Barely ever looks at them or acknowledges in any way that they are even there. When she does, all they get is an eye roll or a look from her that screams back off. Since she is clearly hot, I am not the only guy in school to be intrigued by her, but since I’m new, I suppose that makes me the last in line. Even seeing her obvious disinterest in all of the other guys, I still want to be the leader of that line.

  I see her come out with her hoodie pulled up over her head and her backpack on, but she is headed in the direction opposite of the bus. Now what the hell do I do? I hate riding the bus anyway; I only do it for her. Therefore
, wherever she is going, I guess I am following her.

  This is going too far. I can’t follow this girl; she is going to think I am some kind of stalker. Of course, I am thinking this as I am trying to manage getting all of my stuff together to get off the bus. Once I am standing there holding all of my art stuff and my backpack, I realize that this is a bad idea. Not only is it a bad idea to follow a girl I don’t know, but to do it while carrying my backpack, my portfolio, and my art supplies is just idiotic. By the time I process that entire thought, though, the bus speeds past and I am left with no other choice.

  I try to stay a bit of a distance behind her, so I don’t scare her. Having to carry all of this stuff makes it hard to keep up anyway, but I don’t want her to think I mean her any harm. I really just want to get to know her. I quickly realize that she is headed home, so now even if I do decide to stop following her, I really can’t because we are both going the same way.

  As I am watching her walking ahead of me, I can almost feel the sadness coming from her direction. She walks with her head down, watching her Converse-clad feet moving one in front of the other, never looking up. She still has her hood on, as if that helps her to hide from the outside world, and yet it just draws me in.

  About half-way home, she breaks her course and walks over to the park, throws her backpack on the ground and sits down on one of the swings. She flips her hood off and for the first time, I can really see her, as she takes it down to reveal dark brown hair that goes down to the middle of her back. She then unzips her sweatshirt, and begins to push the ground with her feet. She grabs the chains on each side and tips herself backwards and is just swinging back and forth with her eyes closed and her hair blowing in the wind. I decide that now is as good a time as any to approach her and try to have a conversation with her.

  I walk up slowly, trying to make at least a little bit of noise so I don’t scare her. It isn’t until I am two feet away that I realize I have no idea what I am going to say. So instead I just stand there watching.

  She must have heard me standing there because she put her feet on the ground and pulled herself back up to a sitting position so that she could look at me. Once her chocolate brown eyes met mine, any words that might have been in my head were gone. I stuttered out a few sentences that seemed at least somewhat rational in my head, but all I got from her were quick responses, not revealing too much information. I tried to get her to open up a little by asking in a roundabout way if she had a boyfriend, but she didn’t fall for it.

  So far, we have sad, beautiful, and smart. Just a little bit of information about her, and I can already feel myself falling hard for her. This doesn’t make sense at all.

  She tells me a little about her life and being grounded all the time, but I am sure she is exaggerating, I mean, no one is grounded all of the time. But still, a beautiful girl like her with no friends, no boyfriend, and not going to the homecoming game tonight? There has to be a story there.

  Oh crap, she’s leaving; I need to come up with something here, and fast.

  “No, Tenley wait, please. I’m new here; I have no friends, and when I saw you on the first day there was just, I don’t know, you just look so sad all the time. I wanted to know why. I still want to know why. Ever since that first time I saw you, I have just had this overwhelming urge to protect you. I just don’t know from what.”

  “Well, someone should probably save me from the creepy stalker guy that followed me home from school today. I have to go. Thanks, I guess.”

  Smooth Chase, really smooth. Why did I just say that? Nothing like announcing that I am a stalker to make her think I am a stalker.

  I think it is best at this point to just let her go. I really don’t want to upset her any further than I already have. I wait for a minute or two and let her get a head start and then start in the same direction.

  I still feel as though I need to protect her, and I will do that whether she likes it or not, even if I have to do it from 100 feet behind her. At this point, she can’t really say I am following her. I am just walking home, and her home happens to be in the exact same direction.

  When we get to the corner where her house is, she turns and looks at me, and I think I can see what almost could have been a smile. Just as quickly she turns back around, opens the front door, and she’s gone.

  I wait a minute to make sure she isn’t coming back out. Okay maybe more than that, but in a few minutes I see her bedroom light turn on. She looks as though she is about to burst into tears. She finally looks at me, and we make eye contact. I give her a small wave and a smile, again the best I can do, and then walk to my house.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Tenley

  I have no idea why I was so rude to him. I can tell he was just trying to be nice. And seriously, he was hot. Not that I think he was hitting on me or anything. I just don’t want him to know just how awful my life is, and even if he were hitting on me, it’s not like I am allowed to date anyway. There would be no point in getting to know him. Every friend I have ever had or guy I have liked finds out about my mom and runs like hell.

  No one wants to deal with the girl who can’t go out or talk on the phone and is sad every moment of every day. I don’t even want to deal with me most of the time, nor does does my own mother, so why would anyone choose to?

  As expected, as soon as I walk through the front door, I get my ass chewed out for not coming home on the bus like I was supposed to.

  “You wonder why I never let you do anything? This is why, because every time I let you do something, you take advantage of me. You can’t be trusted even to come home from school the way you are supposed to. Get up to your room.”

  “I am already going.” I spew back at her.

  “Watch your attitude, young lady. You are the one who broke my trust.”

  “Whatever. You never trusted me to begin with. I have homework to do.”

  “I don’t even know why you do homework; it’s not like you are ever going to amount to anything. What a waste of time.”

  “Why do you make me live here with you if you clearly don’t want me? Why don’t you just let me go live with my grandparents? They love me, and they want me there. Wouldn’t that be a win-win situation?”

  “You will live with them over my dead body. I am not about to allow you to go and make them deal with all your behavior problems.”

  “What behavior problems?” I yell “I have never drank; I have never smoked; I don’t do drugs. I have never had sex or even kissed a boy! What exactly do you think I do that is so awful you can’t even look at me?”

  “You exist. Now get up to your room.” She sneers.

  I know it isn’t worth arguing with her anymore, and I don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing she made me cry so I just keep walking up to my room. I gently close the door, because I don’t want her flip out and say I closed it too loudly. I throw my stuff on the bed, pad over to the window and sit down on the bench seat, still trying not to cry. My room is roughly the size of a sardine can, but the one good thing about it is that I can see the street out front. Sometimes people-watching helps me to forget that I am trapped up here in this room like some kind of sad princess in a book. The tears finally overwhelm me as I sit looking out the window. Since I know now that Chase lives by me, I should not have been surprised to see him standing on the road.

  I tried to look away when I saw it was him, but before I could, he looked up and we made eye contact. He stopped and stared for a little while, then gave me a little wave, put his head down, and kept walking. I’m sure he saw my teary eyes and wondered what was wrong with me. I feel like an idiot sitting in the window crying. I watched him for a little while; he didn’t seem like the happiest of people either. I watched him until he got to his house, and other than that one time, he didn’t look up at my window again. This is when I learned that he actually lives directly across the street from me. I am still watching his house for whatever reason when I see a light upstairs turn on, and th
en I see his face in the window. We can actually see right into each other’s rooms.

  Note to self. ALWAYS close the blinds.

  We sat there looking at each other through our windows for what seemed like forever. Neither of us could seem to walk away. After what must have been about two hours, he gave me the one-minute sign. He came back to the window and held up what looked like a huge sketch pad with big block letters that simply said HI.

  I looked around for a minute and could not find anything other than a notebook from my backpack, but I didn’t even have a marker so I put my hands up in a sorry motion and gave him a small wave.

  He turned the page and was writing again and then held up the paper that said CAN I CALL YOU?

  I shake my head no. I don’t have a phone, and he can’t exactly call my house.

  WHY? He writes on another piece of paper.

  I make a pretend phone with my hand and hold it up to my ear and shake my head no. I suppose he could take it as me just saying I don’t want you to call, but somehow he gets what I am trying to say.

  NO PHONE?

  I shake my head no again.

  I CAN FIX THAT.

  Then just like that, his light was off and he was gone. I sat there for a while longer just staring at his window thinking something was going to happen, but not having any idea what. Nothing happened, though. No lights. He never left his house. Just. Nothing.

  I should have known better than to think he cared. I mean really, what did I think, that he was just going to come over and give me a phone? Seriously. He probably felt obligated to do something since I was sitting there just staring at him like a moron. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was so rude to him that there would really be no reason for him to want to communicate with me. Besides, even if he had brought me paper and a marker or a phone or whatever, it’s not like my mother would have let me have it. I can just picture that conversation.