The Tomboy & the Rebel

by Leeann M. Shane

I stuck my tongue out at the screen. Me: I don’t like you.

  Sean: Then why are you texting me?

  Me: Because I’m a loser with only two friends, and Genna didn’t betray me. YOU DID!

  Sean: Mel, I did not betray you. I shouldn’t have talked to you that way, and for that I’m sorry, but I was hurt, too. Like, why couldn’t I score a girl like Maisy? Who says I have to be alone because I’m not cool? I really like her, Mel, you know how much. And I know it’s weird, but I think she likes me, too.

  I snorted, slumped over on the floor, knees to my chest, the blue glow of the screen lighting up my face.

  Me: Of course, you could get any girl you wanted. You’re amazing, Sean. Which means you’re way too good for her. Way. Too. Good.

  Sean: If you knew her, really knew her, you’d know why she is the way she is. Does it make it right? Hell no. And I hate it when she treats you, and anyone else, like crap. It’s the only thing about her I don’t like. But I don’t feel like I’m too good for her. I just feel like I’m good with her.

  I sighed sadly.

  Sean: I’m sorry, Mel. I miss you so damn much. You still love me? :)

  I gave my phone a rueful smile.

  Me: I don’t dislike you anymore. Does that count?

  Sean: I’ll take it. Gen told me about your mom. I’m sorry about that, but that’s a good sign, right? How’s she doing?

  I missed this. Needed this. A friend I could rely on. Relying on myself was great and all, but it was impossible for me to have all things covered at all times. That’s what Sean was for me. My friend. Maybe it was the same as my father and me. We were going to rebuild. Maybe Sean and I could too. As the people we were now, and not who we had once been.

  Me: She’s okay. I don’t think she wants anything to do with my dad anymore, though. I think she’s ready to let him go.

  I wiped at my tears. It was strange to me that I was crying for them now, when they’d gone through this for years. But this time it was really over. Before it was just a war between two heart-broken people with no real winner.

  My parents were going to get a divorce.

  They weren’t going to be together.

  I put my head between my knees and sobbed for all the things we’d never be again. For the memories I had been unknowingly creating, not knowing they’d be something I looked back on and missed, instead of still had.

  But I was hopeful for all that we could become. All the relationships in my life were changing, but they weren’t ending. Except Dare. My tears increased, and I hated those tears. They made me realize a few things. One, I was more upset that I was losing Dare than my parents’ marriage. And two, he wouldn’t be around for the rebuild of my life.

  He would become one of those memories I had no idea I was creating.

  Sean: You okay?

  Me: No, but I will be.

  Sean: Do I have your blessing to be with Maisy? I want my best friend back.

  Me: I guess you can date the airhead if you want.

  Sean: Lol. You’re going to love her. Watch and see.

  I wouldn’t hold my breath. But I could give the queen bee a shot. If they broke up, she’d go back to cornering some other girl at a party and trying to beat her strength out of her. I wondered if Maisy had any strength. If she did, she wouldn’t try so hard to steal it from everyone else. Wouldn’t hurt herself. Wouldn’t scream and growl, if someone heard her whispers and cries. But I wouldn’t like her. I wouldn’t forget a thing she put me through. Because I was hurt, too, but I never stole an ounce of anyone else’s strength.

  Sometimes, spreading your hurt onto others made yours obsolete. It stole your soul. Being in pain did not give you the right to hurt others.

  I’d take my pain and hang on to it. And never forget the people who made it worse.

  They showed me how strong I was.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Sean and Maisy were waiting by my locker the next morning. I gave him a shy smile as I approached that he returned. Without the hurt in the way, he looked just like he always had. Handsome, tall, and familiar. His shaggy blond hair was pushed back from his face and I never noticed how much he didn’t look like a boy anymore. He looked like a man. The boyishness that used to cling to his uncomfortableness was gone. I didn’t know what was in its place, but I guessed it wasn’t mine to know. I didn’t put it there.

  Princess Maisy did.

  She glared at me, but her arms were crossed over her chest, and she wore a sour expression.

  Sean held his arms out to me and I fell into his hold. I squeezed him to me as hard as I could. “I love you,” I whispered in his ear.

  He nodded, holding me just as tight. “I love you, too. Give her a shot. For me?”

  “Fine,” I gave in, pushing him off of me and heading to my locker. It was clear for me, and I had this feeling I wouldn’t have to deal with the mob of bullies anymore.

  I sighed in relief and opened it, working through my first half of classes in my mind and putting the textbooks I wouldn’t need until later in the day inside.

  “Hi,” Maisy grumbled.

  I smiled into my locker. “Hey, Barbie.”

  She growled under her breath. “Sean, do I really have to play nice with the tomboy? She’s so not my style.”

  “What is?” he asked, an amused smile in his voice.

  I peered over my shoulder and through the curtain of my hair to find her meet his eyes. She melted, like a scoop of pink bubblegum ice cream in the Phoenix heat. She gave him a rueful smile and reached over to ruffle his hair. I refrained from gagging and zipped my backpack up.

  He caught her hand and held it, weaving her fingers with his. Her nails were neon pink and his were plain and chipped, stained blue from the ink he used to sometimes sketch. And yet, they kind of went together. I glared at their hand and slammed my locker shut.

  “See you for lunch?” I checked, wanting to leave before I did something that I would regret.

  “Yeah. Meet us on the stage?” he checked, his cheeks turning pink.

  “I’d rather wear a dress and heels,” I sneered. “Have the barbie meet us at the top of the amphitheater.”

  Maisy looked like I’d just suggested she shovel dog poo into her pink sneakers, and then made her put them on.

  “What do you say?” Sean asked, his tone lowering, like it was meant for only her.

  She sighed meanly. “Fine. Whatever.”

  I raised a brow. “Oh, how far the princess has fallen…”

  “Where’s Dare?” she shot back.

  I stiffened. “He’s getting his rebel card renewed. It expired.”

  Sean laughed, and then turned it into a cough when Maisy glared at him. “Dusty halls,” he offered up lamely.

  Maisy and I both rolled our eyes and turned our backs on each other. Her question followed me around all day. Where was Dare? It kept me occupied through classes. Classes I had finally caught up in. College was looking more possible, and even more tempting. Especially as I peered up at Maisy and Sean sitting together at the top of the amphitheater. I glanced at the occupants on the stage, to find Miranda and Tyra glaring so darkly at the top I could feel fire spewing from their eyes.

  It was easy to assume Maisy’s place as queen was in jeopardy being with Sean. If she wanted to get back at me there were other ways. She had to like him, risking her social life to be with Sean. He was worth it, worth so much more. She’d better know that, too.

  “I got you a slice,” he said, pushing an extra tray over to me.

  I sank down beside him and brought my knees to my chest. “Thanks. Gen not here?”

  Maisy snickered and then hid it with her pink finger polish covered hand. “Sorry, the air quality’s so much nicer up here. I’m not used to it.”

  I scowled at her. “It’s not polluted by popular kids with complexes. You’re right.”

  “She’s probably with Rudy,” Sean interrupted our impending argument. “They’ve been spending a lot of time together.” />
  “What does he see in her?” Maisy wondered. “She’s a quiet little mouse. He usually goes for… you know… women like me. Confident, feminine.” She flipped her hair. “Not mutes.”

  I balled my fists together.

  “Cut the shit, Mais,” Sean snapped. “I’m serious.” He looked serious. Nostrils flared, eyes narrowed menacingly.

  Maisy tried to keep her hand, but one look at his face, and she gave in with a huff. “Fine, but I’m right. She’s quiet and boring. Rudy’s a basketball star.”

  “So what? You’re popular. I’m the loser eating at the loser’s table.” He grabbed my hand. “Does that make me less?”

  She glared petulantly. “No,” she mumbled.

  My eyes widened. “What?” I asked.

  “No!” she snapped. “It doesn’t make you less. Happy?” she sneered at me. “We’re all people. Let’s hold hands and go shopping.”

  I pulled my hand free of Sean’s and grabbed for the offered slice of pizza. “Go for a walk, Sean.”

  He glanced at me, confused. “What?”

  “I want to talk to your lovely girlfriend.” I barely managed not to cringe.

  Maisy rose her golden brows at me. “This conversation probably has to happen. May as well do it now,” she agreed, sounding so put out.

  The feelings were mutual. “Go get us a soda,” I suggested.

  “A sparkling water for me,” she corrected. “Calories.” She smiled at me, like we were best friend’s.

  I beamed back. “Of course. Calories.” I smacked my forehead. “Duh.”

  Sean got up and stared down at us. “If one of you kills the other, I’ll kill the one who’s left.”

  Maisy gave him a blinding smile. “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

  He snorted. “You don’t have best behavior. You have bad and less bad.”

  She did something that shocked me. She laughed. Deep and genuine. Her expression cleared, and she was just a girl laughing at something her boyfriend said. She looked younger and prettier. Is that the girl Sean loved? The one who put her claws away and laughed like nothing else mattered?

  Sean grinned back and then turned to me. “What about you?”

  I missed Dare in that moment so badly, tears sprang to my eyes. “I’ll be good,” I promised.

  He frowned at me but didn’t comment. He nodded and took off, taking the amphitheater steps two at a time.

  As soon as he was gone, her mask slid back into place. “What do you want, Tom?”

  “Where did you get those pictures?”

  She sat back, tucking her jean-clad legs under her. “From Dare’s room.”

  My heart dropped, fell, and splattered. But it kind of like the pieces. They were there because a boy like Dare probably would love them still, even broken and shattered. “He had them in his room? But there were so many.”

  She stared down at the amphitheater. “He used me.”

  “But why? We don’t even cross the same paths.”

  Her smile was oddly sad. “You’re so blind.”

  “Then open my eyes. Tell me what he won’t.”

  “Did you break up with him?” she wondered.

  I frowned. “No. He broke up with me. Sort of. It’s complicated.”

  Her gaze shot to mine. “What? Why?”

  “He told me he loved me. And I didn’t say it back.”

  Her mouth fell open. And then she laughed, loud and crude. “Oh, man, Tom. Poor Dare. I bet he’s crushed.”

  I reigned in my anger, but some still shone through. “Where is he?”

  “Don’t know. I don’t talk to him anymore. Want me to text Miranda? He crashes at Rudy’s place a lot.”

  I bit my bottom lip and then nodded. “Thanks.”

  She snorted. “Yeah, yeah. Thank Sean. I’m doing this for him. Not you, Tom.” She pulled out her cell and her fingers moved across the screen alarmingly fast. It vibrated a few times, and then she looked at me. Her face was pale, and her meanness was replaced by something frightened. “His mom overdosed again last night. They rushed her to the hospital.”

  I got up, grabbed my backpack, and ran down the amphitheater stairs.

  “Tom, wait!” she shouted, and then I heard her running behind me, her pink backpack bouncing. “I’ll go get Sean and we’ll drive my car.”

  I didn’t listen. I didn’t need her. I ran harder, cutting through the bodies for the main school entrance. My legs pumped, and I just knew I had to get to him. We had to be palm to palm.

  I’d made it down the main street and past school, when I heard a horn behind me. Sean waved me over. Not wanting to waste time—I’d berate myself for this choice later—I got into the back of Maisy’s shiny white car. She sped away and said, “Call Dare.”

  I did, but it went to voicemail. “He’s not answering.”

  She tried to call him, driving at the same time she punched in his number. She put it on speaker, and the ringing went on and on until his deep voice said, “Leave a message.”

  She licked her glossy lips. “We’ll check his place first.”

  I bounced my leg in the backseat. It seemed to take forever to make it to his street. When we got there, his truck was outside.

  “Want us to wait here?” Sean asked.

  “No.” I got out and then paused, turning to Maisy. “Uh, thanks, Barbie.”

  She gave me a half-hearted glare. “Yeah, Tom. Text Sean when you know more.”

  I slammed her car door and ran up his walkway. There was a screen door over his main door, and it was closed, but the main door was open. The little bit of breeze in the air flew through his door. I took a deep breath and then pressed down on the handle, stepping into his house. It smelled like cereal and coffee instantly. Sweet cereal, like when I used to get it stuck in my hair when I was a little girl and hours later I could smell the sugar.

  The hallway was short, and a million pairs of shoes scattered the entryway. Some little boys, some of which I recognized as Dare’s sneakers. Some of them were women’s shoes. I clutched my backpack in my hand and walked into the living room. It was tiny, but well set up. The coffee table was overflowed with magazines and unwashed coffee mugs and plates. There was a bowl of cereal on the floor, the contents seeping out, and the fruity lumps melting into the beige carpet.

  Beside the cereal bowl was a pile of puke. It was old, dried up, and pungent. I covered my mouth and looked around, my heart in my throat.

  The kitchen was behind me, light off.

  “Dare?” I called out quietly, afraid to talk louder.

  There was a dinosaur toy right beside the spilled cereal and puke. There was a bottle of pills on the couch, opened and scattered, and what looked like a syringe imbedded in the sofa.

  I didn’t know why, but the sight of that made me cry silently. I walked back into the hall and spied a bedroom door slightly ajar. I peeked in, and every single thing I ever thought about Dare exploded.

  I pushed his door open.

  I knew it was his room before I even saw him passed out in his bed. He was shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of loose black boxers. His hand was flung over his eyes, and on the floor charging, was his cell phone. It rang as I watched it. It was on silent, every call going unnoticed. There was a pile of clothes near his bed and they looked soiled. With vomit.

  I thought back to that moment in my room. The way Dare had studied my collages on the wall. The way he looked so different, so bare. At the time, I was just happy to see a part of him that didn’t aggravate me, that took photography seriously. But he hadn’t been looking at those collages in admiration.

  He’d been looking at my collage in understanding.

  He had a collage of his own.

  It spanned his entire room. Every inch of his walls. Even his roof. Picture after picture. Spanning years and years. They were all affixed to the wall with clear pins. Every last one of them. There was a new collage above his bed. I knew it was new, because I was there when he took those pictures that time.


  My backpack hit the floor in a barely audible heap. Goosebumps broke out across my arms. My heart raced, knocking against my rib cage. Every emotional fiber I had in my soul unwrapped itself and floated around me, plugging into his. Those tendrils became one large force. That force choked me.

  All those years I thought I was alone, I wasn’t.

  All those times I went hungry, I had sustenance all along.

  All those times the dust motes choked me, there was clean air all around me.

  Every single moment I ached for love, I had it.

  I crawled over to the collage closest to me and plucked one of the pictures loose. I had to be fourteen in the picture. Freshman in every way. My hair was in a bun and my cheeks were pink. Sean was laughing as I pulled my shirt from my locker. My baggy jeans and scuffed yellow Converses looked like they’d never fit me today.

  I was so young, so unaware that there was a boy a few feet away snapping pictures of my antics. So unaware that a love so strong that it could span years of torment could exist. I had no idea that the titles we placed on others were as hurtful as the ones we placed on ourselves.

  I wasn’t a tomboy. I was a girl who wore what I wanted.

  Dare wasn’t a rebel. He was a boy who did what he pleased.

  Maybe if I looked more closely at him, I’d spot one of those pictures being taken. But I hadn’t seen a single one of those pictures being snapped, other than the ones I’d been a part of.

  Hot air seemed to weigh the oxygen down in the room. I found it hard to breathe. Hard to see. I sat back on my butt and looked up in wonder, taking in the years of love Dare had harbored for me. He put me on every inch of his walls. He looked at me every morning and every night. Now I knew why he hadn’t wanted me to come into his bedroom.

  Why Maisy hated me. She knew, all that time, that he was only with her because she had a locker beside mine.