My Name Is Rowan: The Complete Rowan Slone Trilogy

by Tracy Hewitt Meyer

  We threw our bags down on a wooden table, its surface carved and colored as a testament to high school life: a misshapen heart with Katie and Brian etched inside, various scribbles, and a few unfortunate although funny remarks about Mrs. Grey.

  Mike pulled out his biology book and it landed with a thud on the table. His notebook followed. He sat then looked at me with brows raised. “You okay?”

  “Oh…yeah.” I didn’t realize I was staring at him. No, studying him. And he’d just caught me doing it. I fell into the seat beside him and bent down to get my things, and to hide my blush. There was something about this guy; his energy field engulfed everything around him, including me. Being near him made my skin actually tingle, and my head turn into a mass of idiocy.

  “Where should we start?” He tapped his pencil against the table. “Believe it or not, I’ve tried to think of topics, but I can’t. Science isn’t really my thing.”

  What was his thing?

  I cleared my throat. “I’ve thought of a couple. Here.” I slid a sheet of paper over.

  He scanned the sheet. “I like this one.” He pushed the paper back to me with his finger on Effects of Global Warming on the Intensity of Hurricane Activity. “My mom is all about global warming these days. She thinks it’s a sign that God is angry with us.”

  “Huh.” God? “Sure. I guess that could be the case. I don’t know. I don’t really go to church.”

  “Man, I do. Every Sunday. My parents aren’t fanatics,” he said, opening his notebook to a clean sheet of paper. “But my mom, you know, was raised in the South, and has always gone to church. She volunteers there all the time–at the food bank, Walks for Veterans, mentoring kids. Things like that.” He wrote our topic across the top of the paper.

  Between me and Jess, it was hard to believe there were healthy, normal families; families that loved each other and loved spending time together; families that led you to talk about them with familiarity and love.

  It was as foreign to me as the language Mario spoke when he talked to his sons at the restaurant. Jess would have felt the same way. Her mom left when she was two and her dad loved booze more than her.

  “So,” Mike went on, oblivious to my silence, “where do we start? I’m afraid you’re going to have to take the reins on this. I mean, I won’t leave you hanging with all the work.” He put his hand on my knee and I jumped. He laughed, but didn’t move it. “But I’ll need some guidance.”

  I swallowed hard. “Um, sure. No problem. I’ve written a ton of research papers, so it shouldn’t be a problem.” I wrote the topic across my clean sheet of paper just like he had done. His handwriting was scratchy and ill-formed, like he couldn’t be bothered. Mine was a testament to handwriting lessons in the second grade.

  For the next two hours, we talked about where and how to research the topic. Even though he said he wasn’t good at biology, he had good suggestions–like how to incorporate the religion angle. He even mentioned using his dad’s friend who had a PhD in some environmental science, though he couldn’t remember which one.

  Before I knew it, Mrs. Grey was popping around the corner, coming at us as silent as a mouse. “It’s nine o’clock, students. Time to go.” With a cluck of her tongue, she walked away, her thin, bony shoulders pushing like points against her somber sweater. After she passed beyond the bookshelves, Mike and I glanced at each other; both with brows raised and started laughing.

  “Boy, she’s a load of fun, isn’t she?”

  “Shhh!” I swatted his arm, something I had never done. I had never been so at ease with someone to do something like that. Ever. “I have another year of school, don’t forget. I need this library pass!”

  Mike pulled his features into Mrs. Grey’s sour expression and I laughed until I hiccupped.

  “Stop!” My cheeks were starting to hurt.

  “Okay. Okay. We’d better go before Ms. What’s-Her-Name comes back here.”

  “Okay.” I loaded my backpack. “Let’s go.”

  Mike walked me to my car. It was a cloudless night, illuminated by a bright moon and hundreds of stars. Several streetlights lined the parking lot but only half worked, leaving my car cast in semidarkness.

  Mike and I faced each other, silently. He towered over me but instead of making me feel insignificant, I felt unique, special somehow. Wind blew through my hair, leaving several strands across my face. Mike, with the touch of a feather, tucked them behind my ear.

  He bent down…and kissed my cheek.

  Then he was gone.

  EARLY THE next morning, I went outside while the house was still quiet. I’d gotten a few hours of sleep after staying up half the night studying for a chemistry test.

  Levi awoke at the sound of my footsteps and walked toward me on sleepy legs. I sat beside him on the dew-kissed grass. Fog swirled around me, obscuring the mountain peaks that hovered in the distance.

  Digging my hand into Levi’s soft fur, I leaned into his solid body, feeling his warmth and the strong beat of his heart. The land lay still and peaceful around me. I breathed deeply, letting the crisp, fresh air fill my lungs.

  It would be hard to leave this area after I graduated, not because of my family, but because of the beauty. This had to be one of the most beautiful places on earth. Unfortunately, within this beauty lived dark, somber people, living dark, somber lives. If my family were different and more like Mike’s, I might actually consider staying close instead of moving far away the first chance I got. I really would miss those mountains.

  Maybe I could go to college in the northwest. I’d seen pictures and, though different, it seemed like a place I could call home. Lost in my thoughts, I almost didn’t see the animal peering around the side of my car’s tire. It was a kitten.

  “Hello, little one.” I eased my hand out. Two round gray eyes stared at me; wide, fearful. “I won’t hurt you.”

  Levi stayed by my side, his big face turned toward the kitten, curious but uninspired to do anything about it.

  “Come here, little friend.”

  Two ears popped into view.

  “Come on.”

  I leaned forward and the tip of my middle finger met the moist pink nose. A sandpaper tongue licked my skin.

  “Ew.” I laughed. “Where did you come from? Are you hurt?”

  Its head moved into full view, showing gray fur with weaving lines of white. It was tiny. It should probably still be with its mother. I scooped it up in one hand and it wrapped its little paws around my fingers.

  “Hello, there.” I held its face level with mine. It meowed softly. Pushing to my feet, I walked around the house then around the tree line, looking for its mother.

  But there was no sign of a cat or any other kittens. Did someone drop it off on our property? That didn’t make much sense, though neither did finding a motherless kitten. I snuggled it into my shirt, against the warmth of my chest, and nuzzled its downy head. It mewed softly and licked my chin. I kept my giggle quiet.

  When the front door slammed, I turned expecting Trina, but instead saw my father. He spotted me before I had a chance to ease behind the house.

  “Rowan?”

  I hunched, trying to obscure the kitten. “Hi.”

  “Where’s Trina? Don’t you girls need to be getting to school? Remember what I said about those tardy slips.” His voice was hard, the kind of voice you didn’t talk back to.

  “Yes, sir. She’ll be here any minute.”

  I must’ve clutched the kitten too tight because it started to claw its way out of my shirt. Its little gray head popped out before I could turn away. Dad stared at me and then at the kitten.

  “What’s this?” he asked as I settled the animal with gentle strokes. Levi sat on his haunches behind me. He made no move to greet my dad.

  “It was behind the tire of my car. I can’t find its mother.”

  “I see. What do you plan to do with it?”

  I shrugged. “Take it to the vet? Put an ad up at the grocery store?” What did he thi
nk I should do? A loaded question lingered somewhere in his words; I just wasn’t sure where.

  “Would you like to keep it?”

  My eyes shot up and my mouth fell open before I could temper my reaction. “Keep it?” I blurted. “You mean I can keep it?”

  He stared at the kitten, lips pulled tight. “It’s asleep. You’re good with animals.” That was the biggest compliment he had ever given me.

  I rubbed its head with my finger, cradling its back with the palm of my hand. It wasn’t his nature to tease me though I couldn’t help but wonder what he meant by his words. Conversations were rare in our household, and when they did occur, they hovered between uncomfortable and hostile.

  “You and Trina could use a kitten.”

  I didn’t blink for several seconds. He didn’t touch the kitten, but his expression was less guarded than usual, and if not content, at least not full of anger.

  “We’d–“

  Before I finished, he was already heading toward his truck. His gray uniform shirt was clean, pressed to perfection, and his black boots were shiny like he’d slathered them in Vaseline. His walk was straight and proud, steps landing against the ground in confident thuds. He left without another word.

  I darted into the house. “Trina!”

  I skidded to a stop when I saw Mom sitting at the kitchen table. She was out of bed two days in a row. A miracle. Trina leaned against a counter eating yogurt from a plastic cup.

  “What is it, honey?” Mom’s breath came in rasps every time she inhaled. She was so overweight she was considered morbidly obese by her doctors. The extra weight put strain on her lungs, making it difficult to breathe.

  I pulled the kitten out of my shirt. Trina squealed and the kitten jumped. She didn’t try to take it from me, but pet its head as it snuggled into my shoulder.

  “I saw Dad outside.” Mom watched me, unblinking.

  I nodded. “He saw it. He said we could keep it!” I bounced on my feet. “Mom, can you watch it today? We have to go or we’ll be late again. I can take it to the vet later. I have money saved.” I turned the kitten’s face toward her. How could she resist?

  Mom’s smile didn’t reach her eyes. She was probably worrying that it would interfere with her nap.

  “Just give it a little milk?” I thrust it in front of her. Surely she couldn’t resist that beautiful face. “Please, Mom?”

  Finally she nodded. “Get a bowl and set out some milk. I’ll watch it today. I can put together a litter box until you get to the store. You can’t be late for school again.”

  I threw an arm around her shoulders. “Thank you!” I turned to my sister. “Trina, we have a kitten!”

  My sister cracked a smile and I handed the kitten to Mom, who let it nestle into her terry-cloth robe. Trina and I darted out the door, talking about names, where the kitten would sleep, shifts of caretaking. We even made it to school on time. It was the best morning I could remember.

  JESS JUMPED off the school bus and snarled, “I hate that thing.” She flicked imaginary dust off her black shirt. Ahead of us, Trina strutted up the stairs, acting like it was her own personal runway.

  “Oh, guess what!” I exclaimed. “I found a kitten!”

  “What? Where?” Jess pushed her glasses up her nose.

  “Outside the house. I found it under my car’s tire!”

  “Wait.” She pulled me to a stop. “Does your dad know?”

  I snorted. Jess had met Dad once and that was enough. I didn’t have her over to my house, even though that’s what best friends do. Just like I rarely went to the apartment she shared with her father. We each had our reasons to keep people at a distance. For me, it was my obese, lazy mom and angry, resentful dad. For her, it was the fact that her dad was a raging alcoholic; not a violent drunk, but rather an insatiable drinker who preferred the stupor effect of large amounts of brown liquid and red wine to the harsh confines of reality.

  “Believe it or not, he does. He even said I could keep it.”

  “Wow. What did you put in his coffee? Prozac?”

  “Ha. That’s funny. I’m saving that for Trina.”

  “Yeah. She’s a real bitch.”

  “Hey! That’s my sister you’re talking about.”

  It was Jess’ turn to snort.

  “How are things with Paul?” I forced myself to ask because I knew it would make her happy.

  Jess fanned her face. With a breathy sigh, she said, “Wonderful. We kissed.” Her brows rose up and down.

  I laughed. “How was it?”

  “Oh, girl. He is a great kisser.”

  “That’s a plus.”

  “You have no idea.” She fell into my shoulder giggling and I couldn’t help but giggle with her.

  She wove her arm through mine. “I may even see if he’ll take me to Prom.”

  “What? You can’t do that! He used to be a teacher here!”

  She flipped her dyed-red hair over her shoulder. “He’s not anymore!”

  “True.” I didn’t bother to ask what her father thought about her dating an older man. He was so oblivious, he would never notice if it wasn’t pointed out to him. Even then, he probably wouldn’t care as long as it didn’t cause him any trouble.

  She chattered on about the things Paul said on the phone last night, but for me, visions of Mike flittered through my mind, complete with me in a beautiful dress and perfectly coiffed hair and him in a black tuxedo. My arm would be curled through his as we strolled into the gymnasium for Prom. We would smile as we headed to the dance floor, where the melody of some soft ballad or another wafted from the speakers. He would hold me close, resting his head on top of mine. I would inhale the musky scent of his cologne. We would kiss…

  I fell into a coughing fit, choking on saliva and images, neither of which I could control.

  “Whoa.” Jess hit me on the back. “You okay?”

  “Fine. Just fine,” I managed and we walked into the school.

  AFTER WORK, I flew home to get the kitten. Trina had a cheerleading meeting after practice so I didn’t have to worry about her. She said someone else would bring her home. As long as it wasn’t Mike, I didn’t care.

  Mom and the kitten were asleep in her bed. I slid my hand under the animal’s warm body, careful not to wake up my mom, and grasped it to my chest. Then I drove to the vet’s office.

  It was crowded tonight. I signed in at the counter then eased into a seat beside an overweight woman with an animal carrier in her lap. A black cat’s head pressed against the metal wire door, peering at me from huge green eyes. The kitten was tucked safely in my backpack.

  I kept my eyes on the tile floor scanning the shoes of everyone in the waiting room. Gray converse, black heels, brown loafers, black heels, red flats, what looked like steel-toed boots that I would’ve given my right hand for, two pairs of white tennis shoes, and one pair of blue tennis shoes that were covered with wisps of grass and a splattering of dirt.

  My eyes traveled from the blue shoes to a pair of strong legs, rounded at the calves. The legs led to black athletic shorts and a DC United soccer shirt, worn and faded. Finally, my eyes landed on the owner of these legs and athletic clothes. It was Mike, his green eyes watching me.

  He was sitting in a row of seats across from me, several people down. He smiled.

  I smiled back, then dropped my eyes to check on the kitten, letting my hair fall over my face.

  “Mrs. Jones?” called the lady behind the counter.

  “Here.” The woman beside me scooted her ample body forward until she managed to stand up, carrier handle secure in her manicured, plump fingers. She lumbered forward with a slight limp and a definite waddle. One pair of black heels gone.

  One pair of dirty tennis shoes took their place.

  “Here for a checkup?” Mike leaned into my shoulder.

  “Excuse me?”

  When he spoke, puffs of minty breath brushed against my cheek and I felt tingles in places I didn’t even know could tingle.

>   “Are you here for a checkup?” He chuckled. “I don’t see any animal.” He waved his hand over my sitting body. “You have a dog, right? Is he in the back?”

  “I found a kitten.” I pulled apart the opening in my backpack.

  He peered inside. “He’s a little guy, isn’t he?”

  “Yeah. I found him this morning under the car. I couldn’t find his mother.”

  “Wow.” He reached a finger inside the pack and the kitten touched it with his nose. “Are you going to keep it?”

  My stomach knotted as I watched his large hand gently pet the kitten. It purred and rubbed its head across his skin. “Yeah. My dad said we could keep it.”

  “That’s really cool.” He leaned back in his seat and looked around the room. His hair was wet like he’d just showered.

  “Where’s your dog?” Mike had a bulldog named Delilah.

  “She’s in back. Had to bring her in for a checkup. They’re giving her shots now.”

  I nodded, watching the kitten swat at a string dangling from the zipper.

  “Does it have a name?”

  “Not yet. I only found it this morning. I don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl.”

  “Mr. Anderson?” called the lady at the counter.

  “Coming.” He took a few steps forward before turning back to me. “Hey. There was something I wanted to ask you.”

  A pair of white flip flops took Mike’s old seat.

  Before he could say more, Delilah darted into the waiting room, escaping captivity and the confines of a leash. She raced toward Mike as squeals erupted from the owners of all those shoes.

  “Delilah,” scolded the vet tech, scurrying after her. “Delilah!”

  But Delilah had already found Mike and had her big front paws on Mike’s thighs. He bent down and she covered his face with sloppy wet kisses. The kitten retreated to the dark corner of the backpack and I hugged it to my chest.