by Ria Voros
open and still.
I thought:
this is the note, this is
the note. And when I woke up
I wondered, what was the note?
Your goodbye note to me.
The crossroads,
halfway to day, halfway to night,
the silent in-between.
You said: I’m going this way —
which way will you go?
There are different kinds of intersections.
Different notes for everyone.
All paths meeting, joining,
and parting again.
My way will be
because of you.
– Gretchen Meyers
Behind My Closed Eyelids
I see them gagging,
see them turning away,
I want to run,
find a hole to live in forever,
bad idea bad idea bad idea,
But …
Everyone Is Still Here
and the air has stopped buzzing.
No car engine, popcorn machine,
murmur or giggle.
Everything in the world
stops.
The crowd is silent
and I imagine us
breathing together, in and out.
And because it seems
like the only thing to do,
what Buson, Issa and Bashō
would do,
I imagine the words
floating up,
absorbed into the same cloud
that will rain on us later,
and the words will fall again
around us, like a new poem.
I didn’t think it could happen,
but this is what he would have wanted.
What I want.
All of us, even though
it’s not perfect,
the tormentors and bystanders
and victims,
the geeks — each of us one
in our own way,
being still,
being the same
because
we
are.
The Splash Heard Around the World
is the not-so-hot
leader of the swim team
being dumped
into the cold water
of the boat racing pool.
Rumour has it
you could see her patch
through her wet dress.
As We’re Packing the Car
with doughnuts and muffins we don’t need, I hear my name across the parking lot. It’s Nemiah. She runs up to me in her funny way — until now I hadn’t noticed her run is so weird. I wonder if the swim team sees it.
She looks at my parents and Layla as if they might bite her. Mum gets into the car. They all do. We are alone beside the loaded trunk.
“I thought that was so amazing of you,” she says. “I mean, so brave and everything. I’ve really missed that about you.”
It’s like she thinks I’ll run away. But I’ve suddenly lost the will to hate her after all these months. We watch people leave the fair with their purchases and winnings. It’s hard to know who should speak next.
“I’m sorry,” she says, “about what happened with us. I was a loser.”
“Yeah,” I say. “You kind of were.” It’s impossible to find the right words, now the apology I’ve imagined since she left is actually happening.
She tries to smile. “Could we go for coffee?”
I don’t have to speak to that. And I don’t have to take her back. I nod. We’ll see.
Inkling
As we leave, the school shrinking
behind us, houses flashing past,
exhaustion settling on me like a heavy blanket,
a hunch grows in my gut.
I am cliqueless, without a brand name,
but I have friends.
Better: I know what matters to me.
James showed me that.
I write what I know.
I have an inkling that might take me somewhere,
pen in hand.
I Call Dean
His voicemail picks up
and I take a deep breath.
“I just wanted you to know
how well it went at the fair.
Your aunt was so happy —
James has a scholarship
in his name. I feel like
he’s happy too, wherever he is.
Enough sadness.”
I pause, not sure what else to say.
The phone line crackles a little.
“Call me if you want to talk.
I’ll always listen.”
I go,
you stay;
two autumns.
– Buson
As I Drift Off
thinking of how much
I never want to see another
baked good again,
there’s a little knock
on my door,
and Layla opens it
a crack and whispers,
“Cupcakes for breakfast tomorrow!”
1 3/4 cups (430 mL) butter
1 1/2 cups (375 mL) dark chocolate chips or chunks
6 eggs
1 tablespoon (15 mL) vanilla
2 cups (500 mL) sugar
1 3/4 cups (430 mL) flour
1 teaspoon (5 mL) salt
2 cups (500 mL) white chocolate chips or chunks
1 cup (250 mL) dried cherries
Put the cherries into a saucepan, cover with water, and bring to a boil on the stove. Turn the heat off and leave the cherries to get plump in the water, about ten minutes.
Meanwhile, preheat the oven to 350 °F (160 °C). Line a baking pan (about 13 x 9 x 2 inches/33 x 23 x 5 cm) with baking parchment or foil.
Melt the butter and dark chocolate together in the microwave. In a large bowl, whisk the eggs with the sugar and vanilla. Measure the flour into another bowl and add the salt.
Add the slightly cooled chocolate mixture to the egg mixture and combine well. Then add the flour and mix to get a smooth batter. Add the white chocolate chunks.
Pour the batter into the prepared pan and smooth, making sure it’s even all over.
Drain the cherries in a colander and press to get some of the water out of the fruit. Sprinkle the cherries over the brownie batter.
Bake in the oven for 30 to 35 minutes. Watch them closely and check to see if the centre is just solid, but not fully cooked; you want moist brownies, not dry ones. They will keep cooking as they cool.
Let the brownies cool completely before carefully using the sides of parchment as handles to lift onto a cutting board. Cut into squares. Find some friends to help you eat them.
Thank you
to those who helped this story grow
from a little idea to a bigger idea to a novel-sized idea:
Rachelle Delaney, Sheryda Warrener, Claire Tacon, Alison Acheson, Keith Maillard, and to the Canada Council for the Arts for their financial support
and those who generously shared their expertise
to make the story stronger:
my agent, Louise Lamont and editor, Anne Shone
and those who made sure the medical nitty was gritty:
Christina Mavinic, Kirsti Ziola
and those who have supported me from the very
beginning:
my mother, father and sister
and those who live with me every day
as I try to write the best things I can,
and whom I love with all my heart and both big toes:
my husband, Daryl, and daughter Elodie Pearl.
Ria Voros is most definitely a poetry geek and a foodie. She is also a graduate of the University of British Columbia’s Creative Writing MFA program and has published fiction and poetry internationally. Her first novel, Nobody’s Dog, was published in 2012. Ria also teaches courses in fiction, poetry, literature and writing for children. When she isn’t writing, Ria ca
n be found cooking, hiking up mountains and gardening. She lives in Nanaimo, B. C., with her family.
Scholastic Canada Ltd.
604 King Street West, Toronto, Ontario M5V 1E1, Canada
Scholastic Inc.
557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012, USA
Scholastic Australia Pty Limited
PO Box 579, Gosford, NSW 2250, Australia
Scholastic New Zealand Limited
Private Bag 94407, Botany, Manukau 2163, New Zealand
Scholastic Children’s Books
Euston House, 24 Eversholt Street, London NW1 1DB, UK
www.scholastic.ca
Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Voros, Ria
The opposite of geek [electronic resource] / by Ria Voros.
Electronic monograph in HTML format.
Issued also in print format.
ISBN 978-1-4431-2853-7
I. Title.
PS8643.O76O66 2013 jC813’.6 C2013-901809-3
Text copyright © 2013 by Ria Voros.
Cover photo copyright © Phatic-Photography/Shutterstock.com
Lost poster #1, background © Petr Vaclavek/Shutterstock.com; Lost poster #1, atom symbol © MrJafari/Shutterstock.com; Lost poster #2, background © 89studio/Shutterstock.com; Lost poster #2, t-shirt © mimon!/Shutterstock.com; Lost poster #3, background © Natalia Barsukova/Shutterstock.com
All poems credited to Bashō, Buson and Issa are from The Essential Haiku: Versions of Bashō, Buson & Issa, Edited and With An Introduction by Robert Hass. Introduction and selection copyright © 1994 by Robert Hass. Unless otherwise noted, all translations copyright © 1994 by Robert Hass. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read this e-book on-screen. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher, Scholastic Canada Ltd., 604 King Street West, Toronto, Ontario M5V 1E1, Canada.
First eBook edition: September 2013
