The Tragedy of Loving Jamie Clarke

by Cohen, Rebecca R.

  THE TRAGEDY OF

  LOVING JAMIE CLARKE

  NOVELS BY REBECCA R. COHEN

  Midnight To Sunrise

  Darkness In Between

  Into The Light (The Fallen Shadows: I)

  REBECCA

  R. COHEN

  THE TRAGEDY OF LOVING JAMIE CLARKE

  A NOVEL

  Rebecca R. Cohen

  New York

  This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real places are used fictionally. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 by Rebecca R. Cohen. All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  First edition, December 2015

  Designed by Rebecca R. Cohen & Domenico Fariello

  Edited by Jordan Axelrad

  This book is dedicated in loving memory of my best friend and first love, Keith E. Pope

  ~1~

  “I measure every grief I meet with analytic eyes;

  I wonder if it weighs like mine,

  Or has an easier size.” - I Measure Every Grief, Emily Dickens

  I have been standing here in my bra and underwear for more than an hour and it’s not over yet. At least Dr. Meresh could have the decency to turn the air conditioning down a few notches. Aren’t chattering teeth, trembling limbs and goosebumps the universal sign for someone being cold? This is supposed to be the easy part. The doctor said it would be just like it was two-years-ago with the low-profile brace. I’d stand still while the doctors layered plaster strips on my back and torso and remain still until the mold hardened...Nope! This time they’re adding screws onto the mold to help harness the metal bars that are supposed to keep my neck straight. I am so ready for this day to be over!!

  “Please try not to move, April,” Dr. Meresh says as she types vigorously on her computer. “We need the mold to form exactly to your body and it can’t do that unless you’re perfectly still.”

  “How long am I going to be stuck in this one?” I ask, trying to ignore the tingling sensation running up my arm.

  Dr. Meresh looks up from her computer for a moment.“Same deal as with the last one, April, I can’t give you a definitive answer.”

  What is it with scoliosis and all the unknowns? It’s always, “It’s up to your body,” or “Whenever your body decides it’s grown enough.” Ugh! And aren’t Doctors supposed to give you answers?

  “How are we doing in here?” mom asks as she pokes her head into the room. I had asked her to wait outside; I didn’t want to be that girl who needed her mommy to hold her hand at the doctor’s office.

  “We’re just about finished,” says the red haired doctor as he smooths out a section of the mold that was starting to bubble.

  “And how about you? You doing okay sweetie?”

  Mom closes the door after I throw up my thumb and force a smile even though I really want to throw up a very different finger to everyone in the room and scream,“you all are ruining my teenage years!”

  “Okay, the mold is just about hardened,” says the nurse, who hasn’t smiled since we’ve been here. “We’re going to remove it now.”

  The flat-lipped nurse and the fire-haired doctor place their fingers beneath my armpits and begin to extract my body from behind the brace. Plaster and glue tug at my skin as the air gusts through the empty spaces between the mold and me. If my skin could talk it would let out a big sigh as the weight of the sticky plaster finally lifts.I feel like I’ve lost 100 pounds and can’t remember how to walk without a weight dragging me down. I think I now know how astronauts feel when they remove those insanely restrictive suits.

  Drop it. Drop it. Drop it. I plead silently as the doctor and the nurse exit the room with my new back brace,bars and all about to be screwed on.The door slams behind them leaving Dr. Meresh and me alone in the icebox of her office.

  “You can get dressed now, April,” Dr. Meresh says. “Shall we ask your mother to come back inside or would you rather meet her out in the waiting room?”

  “Waiting room,” I reply as I slide back into my favorite purple sundress. This is probably the last time in the next couple of years I’ll be able to wear it. I doubt I’ll want to wear any revealing clothing once I have those bars wrapped around my neck. “ Am I going to have to wear it through graduation?”

  With a sigh Dr. Meresh walks over to me, and places her hand on my shoulder. I can already tell I am not going to like the answer.

  “I’m sorry, April, but about 85% of my patients usually remain in the high-profile brace for at least two to three years.”

  My stomach sinks to my feet and my heart thuds against my chest ready to leap out and smash into pieces on the floor. “Two to three years! I can’t go on that long looking like some creature from a Syfy movie! Why is this happening to me?”

  “I know this isn’t easy, April,” Dr. Meresh says pulling me into a hug, “and I wish I had a better answer for you. But you will get through it. At least now you know what you’re up against so the hard part is over.”

  No,the hard part isn’t over until I get the hell out of high school and away from this brace! I should have had the surgery, then at least it would be over and done with.

  ~2~

  I pull my “clunker,” as dad calls my car, into the parking lot of Perkins Harbor High School at 7:45 A.M. fifteen minutes before the first bell. I make a sharp turn into one of the empty spots and nearly collide with the car next to me. My car spits and chokes as I put it into park. Geez, I used to be a really good driver but over the last two weeks my driving skills have severely declined. Dr. Meresh said that my mobility might be compromised due to the unusual design of my new back brace but that it shouldn’t affect my day-to-day life too much. Yeah except for my inevitable new nickname “Hey Hunchback!”

  I smooth out my salmon skirt, which is the only skirt that fits over the brace, to make sure I am free of crumbs from the pop tart I just finished and prepare for a new school year.

  “Ape!” Amber shouts as she runs toward me from across the parking lot. “Oh my God April, did you see the new kid? He’s so dreamy.”

  “No Amber, considering I literally just got out of my car, I did not,” I reply, as I yank my bag out from under the seat.

  That’s something Amber and I don’t have in common. It’s not that I don’t enjoy boys, I just don’t focus on them the way Amber does. “I know you think boys are put on earth to be our playthings, Amber, but honestly, what guy is going to want to play with a girl with a plastic hunch and a metal barricade sticking out of her neck,” I say, tugging onto the metal bars around my neck. Amber frowns.

  “I saw him when I pulled in,” she says, crossing her hands over her heart. “He’s beautiful. I tried to park next to him so I could get a better look but some stupid sophomore snagged the spot before I had the chance.”

  We’re not two feet from my car and I can already hear people whispering. Some kids are getting out of their cars and staring at me. A beautiful boy, who could probably model, is leaning against his silver car reading a piece of paper. He’s probably the boy Amber was talking about; he looks like he would be her type.

  “Well would you look at that,” a freshman boy with piercings shouts and points in my direction, “robots do exist!”

  “Watch out, it might rip your head off with those metal bars!” another boy snickers.
>
  “Hey Tin-Man where’s Dorothy?” says another.

  Their friends erupt into a wall of laughter as Amber grabs my hand and pushes past them. I turn and see that the new boy is staring at me.

  “Screw those guys Ape,” Amber says as she shouts in my taunters’ direction, flipping her middle finger.

  ”I knew this was going to happen!” I shout. I hate Dr.Meresh for putting me in this brace and I hate my parents for making me come to school wearing it.

  “So is this is how it is going to be for me until this damn thing comes off?” I punch the brace with my fist.

  “Just let someone else try to make some stupid comment about you!” Amber yells putting up her fists.

  I used to look forward to the first day of school because it would be the first time I’d see a lot of my friends since the last school year ended but today this building is the last place I want to be. I can hardly look at myself in the mirror without cringing and feeling like some kind of alien; I can only imagine how other people see me.

  As we walk into the building Amber takes a deep breath like she’s trying to inhale the scent of the hallways. “Ah smell that Perkins Harbor High air!”

  “You’re so weird,” I laugh, dropping my bag on the floor in front of my locker.

  Amber leans against the adjoining lockers with her arms folded across her chest. We haven’t been in the building for two minutes and already she looks bored. If she weren’t so determined to go to a college out of state I am sure she would have stopped coming altogether.

  “So, I heard Megan Lionel’s big back-to-school party is tonight,” Amber says as a smile runs across her face.

  “No, Amber. I know what you’re getting at and you can forget it.”

  “Come on April, it’s just a party, it’s not going to kill you. You might even...gasp...have a good time.” She pouts and clamps her hands together like she’s praying in church. At least she isn’t playing the best friend guilt card this time.

  “You don’t even like Megan Lionel,” I retort.

  Amber throws her hands in the air and huffs. “You’re impossible Marks. Are you ever going to come out of that little bubble you’ve put yourself in?”

  I slam my locker shut and throw my bag across my chest. “Do you really think I am going to a school party in this?” I say pointing to the neck halo jutting out of my blouse. “Especially after what just happened outside?”

  “You can’t hide forever, April,” Amber replies as the first bell chimes. As she heads to class she adds: “one of these days someone is going to be able to convince you that you are more than your disability.”

  She is the only one who hasn’t treated me differently since the new brace went on and as much as I appreciate it I don’t believe that Amber truly knows what she is talking about.

  I adjust my bag, trying not to get it stuck under the bars, and head off for my first class. I round the corner and head down the hallway that has already begun to thin out although small clusters of students still remain. I recognize a few of the sophomores and smile politely.

  “STOP STARING AT ME!” I yell to myself as I pass by a group of freshmen girls who were keeping a steady gaze in my direction; at Perkins Harbor High blending in when you’re physically different is impossible.

  ~3~

  I’m the last one in class, a first for me, and as the door slams shut behind me the entire class turns to see the straggler. I can almost hear their thoughts as their mouths drop and their eyes wander towards the metal bars around my neck. Loser. I didn’t know Quasimodo went to our school. Oh look its Robocop. I smile apologetically at Mrs. Honor and rush to the back of the room. I slide into the seat closest to the window.

  “Good morning class and welcome to another exciting year of learning,” Mrs. Honor begins her lesson.

  I am very excited about getting into her English class. Everyone who is an avid reader or hopeful writer is. Mrs. Honor, a former editor, knows what it would take to make it as an author in today’s publishing market. I am sure her first piece of advice to me would be to finish writing my book, something I am planning to do actually.

  Mrs. Honor stomps around the front of the room like an elephant. Her rotund form force the last two buttons of her blouse to bulge forward revealing the top seam of her floral skirt. Her disheveled hair flops as she enthusiastically speaks about her goals for the year.

  “You’re going to read some of the best literary works ever written. From Dickens to Tolstoy, you will learn what literature is truly about…” Mrs. Honor’s voice trails off as the handsome boy from the parking lot enters the room.

  No wonder Amber called him dreamy! He smiles briefly and as he moves into the room his charcoal hair flops above his eyes that are so blue they could have come straight from the Atlantic.

  “Can I help you?” Mrs. Honor asks the gorgeous boy in the black tee shirt and blue jeans.

  “Is this Mrs. Honor’s English class?” He asks.

  “It is. And you are?”

  “Jamie Clarke,” Jamie says entering the room and handing Mrs. Honor an official form of some kind and as he does the boy’s gaze catches mine and I shiver.

  He smiles at me but, because I’m the world’s most awkward person when it comes to guys, I’m staring at him blankly and half expect drool to dribble down the side of my chin. Now a few of my classmates turn to look at me too. He must be staring at my brace. I might as well wear a sign that says, “Look at me and my hunchback!” Hanna Tillman giggles and points while whispering something inaudible to Michael McDonwell. They’re obviously making fun of me.

  “Ah Mr. Clarke, welcome. You’re late,” says Mrs. Honor as she hands him back the form.

  “I know. Sorry, I was late for registration; there was this incident with the directions and my ability to follow them. And well, long story short I almost ended up in the middle of the Atlantic,” Jamie says.

  I try to hold it in but out comes a giggle, which gives me another glance from Jamie. My heart thumps and I begin to sweat. I am still staring at him and now it’s just creepy. I quickly bow my head and pretend to be devoted to my notes, which of course are blank.

  “Well, take a seat,” Mrs. Honor commands.

  He strides toward me grinning and I swear I can hear a church choir singing behind him. I pat my hair down to make sure no strays are bursting out, tug on the bars of the brace to push them as far down into my shirt as I can and scoot up in the seat. It seems like it takes him forever to reach me. Mrs. Honor goes back to her lecture as Jamie slides into the chair next to mine, still staring and grinning at me. I want to look at him but I won’t. I don’t have a mirror and what happens if I look at him and there’s pen on my face or worse. What if, before I left the house this morning I forgot to finish my makeup and I look like two-face? What if I look at him and he looks back?

  “Hi,” Jamie says, slumping in the seat. “Looks like we’re neighbors. I’m Jamie.”

  I ignore him and continue to pretend to take notes even though Mrs. Honor has moved on to roll call. “Please tell me I’m not the only one from out of town who almost drove straight into the Atlantic.”

  I still pretend I don’t hear him. I want to answer him, I want to look at him but if I do I know I am going to make a fool of myself. I don’t know how to talk to guys, not really, not like this.

  “Is she always this intense?” Jamie asks, again trying to grab my attention. It is hard to understand him since I’m half listening and half waiting for my name to be called.

  “What?” I reply instinctively.

  “Ah she speaks,” Jamie laughs. He cocks his head to the side and raises his eyebrows. “I was afraid you might be mute or something.”

  “Oh. No, I’m not,” I reply in a shaky voice.

  “Clearly.”

  “April Marks,” Mrs. Honor finally reaches my name in roll call.

  “Present,” I shout, stealing a quick glance at Jamie who is still smirking at me. God I wish he would stop looking at me
like that.

  “Is she one of those teachers who always does roll call so she can embarrass those students who come late?”

  “What? Teachers actually do that?”

  “Are you kidding? In my last school I had this teacher who did roll call every day and when someone was absent or late she made a big deal about it. Once she even booed a student who came in five minutes late.”

  “Booed? Like they do at baseball games to the opposing teams?”

  “Exactly.”

  I cover my mouth so the laughter that comes out isn’t loud enough to be heard.

  “I can’t imagine how embarrassing that must be. I am so glad we don’t have teachers like that here. The teachers here may be tough but they certainly don’t boo their students. Good thing you got away when you did.” Jamie grins and bites his lower lip.

  I wonder what it would feel like to be kiss him. Oh God did I really just think that? What is wrong with me? He’s just a stupidly handsome boy with gorgeous hair and gorgeous eyes, no big deal. Geez, I need to focus.

  Mrs. Honor spends a good deal of time handing out copies of To Kill a Mockingbird, and explaining why we will be reading it this semester. As he puts his copy of the book aside, Jamie turns to me.

  “So, April, I’m kind of new here and you seem harmless, would you mind giving me the grand tour after school?” Jamie asks, leaning off the chair in my direction. “I’d like to not almost drive into the Atlantic from now on.”

  “Me? You want me to give you a tour?”

  If I wasn’t sweating before I am sweating now. I’m nothing, just the girl in the back brace, who spends hours alone in her room trying to write, who obsesses about things like, The Backstreet Boys. I don’t get asked to show people around town, let alone by a boy like Jamie. Amber is more his type. The flirt, the hot girl with dark hair and dark eyes, the girl who likes to drink, party and do things other than hang out with their parents watching reruns of Friends, someone who doesn’t look like she’s auditioning to be a monster in a science fiction movie.