My Mother Grows Wallflowers

by C. L. Howland

A sense of déjà vu washed over Mina. Why me? The cards were in alphabetical order, so she had to keep looking around the room, her eyes not landing on any one person too long. Fields, Robert, Mina read. Boy, this just keeps getting better. Mina stopped a foot away from the desk and stuck her hand out, waiting for him to take the card.

  “Hi, Mina.” Robbie stroked the edge of her hand that held the card before taking it. He did it so quickly, she wasn’t able to pull away. “You look good.”

  Instead of a compliment, his words felt dirty and insinuating, as did the touch of his fingers on her skin. Mina rubbed her hand on the leg of her jeans and said nothing as she backed away. She continued to hand out cards. She came across a couple of names she didn’t recognize, shoved them to the back of the pile and kept going. To speed up the process, Mina dropped the card on the desk and moved on to the next person, including Sam, who sat right in front of Naomi.

  Whitman. Great, here we go. Mina stuck the card out and expected Blair to snatch it out of her hand, but nothing happened. She glanced up. The girl sat staring at the front of Mina’s blouse, her eyebrows knit in a tight scowl. Self-conscious now, Mina dropped the card on Blair’s desk. She still had two cards in her hand, and stood there in indecision.

  “I’m Tom Evans,” a deep voice said. Mina looked around. The boy sat in a desk to her left, looking like he barely fit. His brown hair was kind of shaggy, but his green eyes were warm. “That’s Tyler Bettis.” He pointed to the boy in front of him. “We’re from Lyme.”

  She nodded and smiled, grateful for the help. “Thanks.” She handed each of them a card.

  “You’re welcome.” He smiled back.

  She’d no more than slid into her seat when the bell rang. Mrs. Gates announced they’d have fifteen minutes to go to their lockers and then on to their first class. Mina bolted out the door, but not before Blair Whitman said, “Did you see what a mess the Mouse’s hair is?” somewhere behind her.

  At her third attempt to enter her locker combination Mina heard, “Hey.” Sam. Of course, alphabetically they were assigned lockers next to each other.

  “Hey, yourself.” She didn’t look up, busy cranking the dial of her combination lock again when the latch didn’t slide up. Focus. She redid the combination, relieved when the latch cooperated this time, allowing the flimsy metal door to swing open. Mina shoved her book onto the top shelf and bent to dig a spiral bound notebook and pen out of her backpack.

  She heard the latch slide up on Sam’s locker. First try, of course. It was always easy for him. Everything was.

  “You okay?”

  Mina slammed her locker door and looked up at him for the first time. “Am I okay? Sure, I am. I’m finally dressed like everyone else and what happens? Same old thing.” She waved her hand in the general direction of the classroom. The hall wasn’t empty, so she lowered her voice. “Somehow, I still can’t get it right…I’m wearing the same clothes as everybody else. Nobody is gawking at them or making comments.” Mina could hear the hysteria in her voice, but couldn’t stop it. “Why do kids do that to me?” Lately, anger boiled up in a flash, like one of Ma’s forgotten kettles. Most times she could tamp it down; today it wasn’t working so well.

  “Mina, it has nothing to do with your clothes, and besides, you let them.”

  “What? How do I let them?” Mina stood with a hand on her hip, tapping the toe of her new sandal against the heavily waxed tile floor.

  Sam shrugged. “You care too much what other people think, so you let it bother you. Don’t let it.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Yup. If you don’t give a crap, people can say whatever they want, and it won’t matter.”

  He made it sound easy, but she’d seen him do it. When he played soccer last year, kids on the other teams would often make snide comments about his braid, or make the Hollywood version of an Indian war call, despite his brothers’ glares. Sam ignored it all, waiting until he got on the field. He was fast, really fast, and usually left them in the dust. After that year, no one teased him again.

  “Besides, it didn’t look like they were all giving you a hard time.”

  “What?”

  “The farm boy from Lyme.”

  “Tom Evans? What about him?”

  “I don’t know. He said something that had you smiling.” Sam slammed his locker door.

  Mina scowled at him. What’s wrong with him? “He told me their names, so I could give them schedule cards.”

  “You really think so?” At her nod, he shook his head. “I don’t.”

  “What then?”

  “Mina, not every guy wants to be your friend.”

  “I know that. You don’t have to rub it in. I guess you’re the exception, Sam.”

  “You really don’t get it, do you?” He hesitated. “What I mean is, guys are going to want to go out with you.”

  “What guys?”

  “I don’t know specifically. Just guys…like farm boy.”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Yeah, what about Robbie Fields?”

  Is he kidding? Robbie Fields?

  “Robbie’s okay if you liked that blond, preppy kind of kid, with lots of money.” Sam waited a moment. “You don’t like that type, do you?”

  Mina shook her head.

  “Good. ‘Cause I wanted to punch him in the face when he did the whistling thing.”

  “Thank you, but I’m not interested in Tom Evans or anyone else.” Mina gave an involuntary shudder. “Especially not Robbie Fields. Good grades. College. Remember?” My ticket out of Ma and Dad’s house.

  “We’ll see.”

  He’s a good one to talk. Girls were always after him, especially since that stupid movie Dances with Wolves came out a few years ago. Well, the movie wasn’t stupid, actually it was pretty good. Mina’d seen it on VHS at the Miller house. The ridiculous thing was the way girls flocked around the Miller boys even more after that. A couple had even tried to interest Ori—good luck there. He wanted nothing to do with them. Joe was happier than ever, though he never committed to one girl. Blair Whitman had been the worst as far as Sam was concerned. But even Blair had some serious competition after Sam started playing soccer, and girls from other towns tried to wrangle introductions. Mina could tell Sam had been flattered by the attention. Who wouldn’t be? Well, I wouldn’t be, but other people probably would.

  Now he’s seeing Naomi Sanders. Sam hadn’t said anything yet, but Mina was sure it’d only be a matter of time before he told her they were dating. Mina shied away from the thought. “Look, this is a stupid subject. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Where’s your schedule?” He handed it to her. “Okay, it looks like we have all the same classes, except I have French when you have shop class.” She looked the card over. “You know, you should consider taking a second language, colleges like that.”

  Sam shook his head. “Forget it, teacher. I’ve told you a hundred times, I’m not giving up shop.”

  Mina rolled her eyes.

  “Look, I’ve done all the other classes you suggested, even that boring music appreciation class last year, which Ori is never going to let me live down, but I like working with wood, and I like Mr. O’Neill, so I’m not giving up shop.”

  “Okay, okay. Whatever.” Mina shook her head, pushing back yet another strand of hair that escaped her braid. “Here, hold my notebook a minute, please.” She shoved it into his hand. “I need to take this braid out, and put my hair in a ponytail.”

  “Why? I like the braid.”

  She made a face. “Yeah, right. I know it’s falling out, but it’s not easy to braid when you have to do it yourself.”

  “I do it every day.”

  “You’re used to it.” Mina pulled her hair to the front and unwound the elastic. Trying to work her fingers through the twisted strands, she managed to snarl her hair in the process.

  Sighing, Sam looked around the now empty hallway. “You’re right. I am used to it.” He shoved both of their notebooks
into her hands. “Turn around.”

  “What?”

  “Turn around. We only have a few more minutes before class, and I’m faster at it than you.” Mina stared at him a second before turning around. Sam worked his fingers through the tangles, releasing a light floral scent from her damp hair. He inhaled. “Your hair smells good.”

  Mina could hardly believe it. Sam’s braiding my hair? She tensed, but his hands didn’t as much as brush the back of her shirt as he worked. His nimble fingers released the braid, smoothed it out, and separated her waist length hair in three sections to start again. Unlike her mother, who used to rip through her snarled hair with no mercy, he was gentle. Mina relaxed even as an unfamiliar tug started somewhere inside, somehow in concert with his twisting of her hair. When done, he stood behind her, silent. “Thanks,” she said in a quiet voice.

  Sam cleared his throat. “You’re welcome.” His words sounded constrained.

  For a few moments neither of them moved or said anything.

  “I think we should head to class.” Mina handed him his notebook.

  “Ahh...yeah.” Sam turned away at the same time and started down the hall. “How come you haven’t been over?” He didn’t look back.

  “I’ve been busy.” Liar. You’re mad because he’s dating Naomi Sanders.

  “Babysitting?”

  “Yes.” Liar!

  “Don’t you get sick of taking care of other people’s brats?”

  Mina shook her head. “No. I like it. It’s fun.”

  “You’re nuts.” He shook his head as he held the door for her. “I’ll meet you in class.” At her perplexed look, he explained, “I’ve got to go over to the gym and pick up my uniform. I made varsity this year.”

  “Okay.”

  He waited. “That’s it?” Hurt was clear in his voice and expression.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Mina, we’re sophomores, and there are a lot of seniors on the squad. Sophomores don’t make varsity.”

  “So you’re lying?” she asked, confused.

  He threw his hands up. “No, I’m the only sophomore to make the varsity soccer team.”

  Oh. “I’m sorry. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks. I’ll probably warm the bench for a while, but our first game is here, next Friday.”

  “You two need to get to class.” Mr. Broadhurst, one of the math teachers, stood in the hall outside his room. “Now.” He walked toward them.

  “Yes, sir.” Mina stepped past Sam and headed down the stairs toward the double doors.

  “Mina.”

  She paused, hand on the door, and turned back. Sam stood on the landing.

  “I want to talk to you.”

  He’s going to tell me about Naomi. Mina tried to will away the sudden churning in the pit of her stomach. Mr. Broadhurst pushed through the door behind Sam.

  “Sure. Later.” Mina practically leapt out the door to get away from the teacher and the coming conversation.

  All day she avoided Sam. Not easy to do since all of their classes were together. At lunch, she hid in the girls’ bathroom, wondering if this was the way the rest of her high school years would play out.

  She finally relaxed in French class. Unfortunately, the teacher continued to talk for a few minutes after the bell rang, making Mina late for assembly once she’d dropped her backpack off at her locker. She hurried to the gym, but could tell by the sheer volume lots of kids were already inside. Great. So much for getting here a little early. She hovered near the edge of the doorway and scanned the bleachers. Her eyes landed on Winona, who smiled and raised her hand. Waving back, Mina walked over, wearing her usual mental blinders as she climbed to the second row of the bleachers, looking neither right nor left until she sat down. As she studied the student body, it only took her a second to find Joe and Ori on the other side of the gym. Bottom row, near the exit as usual.

  Ori sat with his long legs stretched out on the gym floor and his elbows resting on the next row of bleachers up, so no one could sit behind him. Just the way he likes it. Mina dubbed this attitude true Ori-fashion. No man was an island, except for Orrin Miller. Other students walked around his sprawl, giving him a wide berth. This was his senior year, and he hadn’t made many friends here, nor was he interested. He planned to go back to South Dakota as soon as he graduated. Winona had told Mina she thought their parents assumed Ori would meet someone here once he settled in, but it never happened. So, they’d paid for Marie to come for a visit last year, thinking maybe she’d like it here. She’d hated it. According to Sam, whenever their parents weren’t around, Marie complained to Ori about the food, the climate, and even the fact just about everyone was white. When Mina asked why he hadn’t reminded her all the Miller kids were half-white, he shrugged and said he didn’t talk to Marie if he could help it; she was way too bossy and bitchy. Unfortunately, Sam was right. Mina had met Ori’s girlfriend during her visit. Marie was a tall girl with straight black hair that fell almost to the back of her knees, broad features, and an imposing nature. Not to mention the multiple piercings edging each ear, and a tattoo that matched the one on Ori’s upper arm. None of those things bothered Mina. When Sam had introduced Mina to her, Marie had asked what he was doing with a Wasicu girlfriend, which Mina now knew meant white. She’d said it with such disgust, Mina was shocked. She didn’t even know this girl. Marie then went on to say she had a message from Jessie. She said to tell him she was sorry and she’d like it if he wrote her once in a while.

  Later, Mina had asked Winona who Jessie was. It turned out she was Marie’s younger sister. When Mina asked if she was Sam’s girlfriend, Winona shrugged, but she did know Sam had been to Marie’s house with Ori, maybe to see Jessie. That’s where they’d been coming from on the day they got hurt. Winona had said to ask him. Mina never did. She didn’t care because she didn’t want a boyfriend, which is what she reminded herself every time it was on the tip of her tongue to ask.

  Right now, even from this side of the room, it was easy to see Ori’s look of disgust. And I know why. Joe. Two girls sat behind him, a safe distance from Ori, of course, and two more on his other side. Joe charmed them all at once. No Sam, though. Maybe he’s sitting with Naomi. Mina leaned forward and gave a cursory glance to the right. Naomi sat on the bottom row of bleachers a few feet away, just past Blair Whitman, her eyes glued to the gym doors. Mina couldn’t miss the backpack resting on the seat beside her. Oh brother. Maybe he’s already in here. In a casual gesture, she swung her head and looked to the left, past Winona. While trying to see through the wavering line of kids shifting back and forth on the hard wooden bleachers, Mina felt someone sit down next to her. Sam. Sighing, Mina gave up. She couldn’t put this off forever. “How was shop?” she asked, turning back to her right. Coward. You’re still stalling.

  “I don’t know. I’m not taking it until next half.”

  A dark blue t-shirt sleeve hugged a huge bicep. Mina blinked, not sure what to do. Following the bicep up to the shoulder, she met green eyes. Tom Evans sat next to her. “Oh. Yeah, I see,” was all she could think of to say. A poke in her ribs brought her head around. Winona looked at her like, who’s that? “Tom, this is my friend, Winona Miller. Winona, this is Tom Evans.” Mina leaned back, so they could see each other.

  “Nice to meet you,” Tom said with a smile. His deep voice resonated above the din.

  “You too.” Winona smiled before dropping her eyes.

  Mina studied her friend. Is Winona blushing? Does she like him? If so, this would be a first as far as Mina knew. Wondering what Tom’s reaction was, Mina turned back, unaware he’d moved closer during introductions. Her face ended up inches from his.

  “Thanks for saving me a seat.”

  Sam? As Mina swung her head back, she expected to see him settled in next to Naomi. Instead, he’d stepped between the kids on the first row of the bleachers and stood in front of her. Being between Tom and Winona, Mina had no place to go. Tom leaned back and didn’t move, an inno
cent smile plastered on his face.

  “Nona, shove down a little.” Sam squeezed in between her and Mina. When Mina went to slide the other way toward Tom to give him a little more room, Sam said, “No, you don’t have to move, I’m good.”

  Mina scowled at him. What’s he doing? It was about a hundred degrees in the gym, and she wasn’t about to be plastered against his side for the next hour, when there was a good eight inches of space on the other side of her. Not to mention, what would people say? Cutting her eyes to the right without turning her head, Mina was treated to glares from both Blair Whitman and Naomi Sanders. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Mina slid over a few inches. She listened to the principal until about halfway through the assembly, when something touched her leg. Sam’s leg. What the heck? He seemed to be listening to the principal. Maybe he doesn’t realize he shifted? She slid down a couple of more inches and turned her attention back to Principal Brown’s speech. Fifteen minutes later, when the principal finished to mild applause, more for the end of the speech than the speech itself, Mina looked down to find Sam’s leg pressed to hers again. She leaned forward. There was now a good six or seven inches between him and Winona. What’s he doing? Trying to make Naomi jealous? Without looking, she knew the two other girls still glared at her. That’s all I need. Mina checked the large clock on the wall by the stage. Just another minute or so. She didn’t move, not that she had much room available on her right side now either. As the applause died down, she heard one word, drawn out like the hiss of a snake.

  “Slut.”

  Blair. Jumping away from Sam’s leg, Mina ended up against Tom as the principal dismissed the student body. Tom laughed, saying something about plenty of room in his lap, as he put his arm around her and gave her a squeeze. Several boys near them laughed. Her face flaming, Mina rocketed out of his grasp and hurtled down the bleachers. Hurrying along, she worked her way through the throng of kids leaving the gym. With any luck, she could get to her locker and out of the building without talking to anyone. I could just skip getting my backpack. As tempting as the thought was, she already had homework assignments.