Not So Easy

by Sherry Gammon

“Izzy, no. Em didn’t do this. No way did she do this.” Max shook his head in disbelief.

  “Only three people know about me,” she said, straightening and slapping her stomach. “You, me, and her. Did you tell anyone?”

  He stepped back at her sneer. “No, I swear.”

  “And I certainly didn’t tell anyone. That leaves only one person.” She took off again, going straight to the nurse’s office.

  “Mrs. Ratched, I’m having my pains again. They’re really bad this time. I want to go home.” When Mrs. Ratched saw her tear stained face, she immediately took her in the back to lie down.

  “JD, go to class,” she said.

  “I’m at lunch,” he said, trying to get back to Izzy.

  “Jayden Miller, unless you have a magic wand you can use to help Isabelle feel better, please leave.” She pointed to the door.

  Max left, but waited outside the door for her. The bell rang for his next class to start, and still he waited. Ten minutes into class, she finally dashed out.

  “Izzy,” he called as she headed down the hall. He caught up with her right before she went through the gate to the parking lot. “Izzy, wait.”

  “Wait for what? Wait for things to get better? Wait until I’m completely humiliated . . . oh yeah, that already happened. How am I ever going to face everyone again?” She handed the parking lot monitor a pass from the nurse and headed for her car. Max tried to follow.

  “Sorry, no pass, no pass.” He grinned at his lame joke.

  “But I need to talk to her, it’s important.”

  “It always is.”

  Max watched helplessly as Izzy tore out of the parking lot and drove away.

  Chapter 26

  “This is not good.” Max’s stomach tightened. If he lived to be a hundred, Max knew he’d never forget the demoralized expression on Izzy’s pale face. He worried she’d do something drastic. He could leave school. He debated it, but where would he go? Izzy drove in the opposite direction of her house. She could be anywhere by now. He had no clue where to look.

  He forced himself to his American history class, usually his favorite, only not today. Max heard nothing of the lecture on the War of 1812. When the bell rang, he bolted out the door and down the hall to find Em. He had to know if she was part of the horrible joke played on Izzy. No. That was a stupid thought. She wouldn’t. But she might have some ideas as to who it was.

  “Em.” He grabbed her arm in the crowded hall. She spun around.

  “Oh, JD.” She flew into his arms. “Poor Izzy. Who would do something so mean?”

  “I don’t know, Em. No one knew about the surgery but you and me, unless you told someone else.”

  “No, I swear. I didn’t even tell my parents.” She stepped back. “Is she alright? I don’t think I’ll ever forget her face when she saw all those bags of dog poop.” She shuddered.

  “It was dog poop?”

  “Yes. Well, Jeff thought it looked like the poop his yellow lab leaves all over his yard. He helped me clean it up, although he didn’t understand why someone gave Izzy dog poop, but like I promised, I didn’t say a word.”

  “I’m sick with worry. I’m afraid she’ll do something drastic.” Max dropped against the wall and tipped his head back.

  “I’d give you a ride, but my dad wouldn’t let me drive with this.” She pointed to her sling. “My mom’s picking me up in fifteen minutes for a doctor’s appointment. Do you want me to ask her if she’ll take us to Izzy’s afterward?”

  “No. I’ll go over there from my bus stop. It will be faster.” Max just hoped it’d be soon enough.

  “I’d better get going or I’ll be late,” she said, checking her watch. “Call me when you learn something.” Max nodded. “Oh, and I’m sorry about the way I acted yesterday.”

  Max waved his hands in front of him. “No harm . . . done,” he said, stopping himself from using a very Max Sánchez expression.

  Max hurried to his last class. When it ended, he ran to the bus and dropped into the front seat. He’d gotten there so early, it was ten minutes before another student showed up.

  At his stop, he darted off the bus and ran to Izzy’s, only the car wasn’t there. He jogged to JD’s and called her, but it went straight to voicemail. Max paced around the house, calling her every fifteen minutes.

  Em checked in with him, but he had nothing to tell her. “I’ll call and leave a message too. I don’t know if it will help, but at least she’ll know I’m thinking of her,” she said.

  When he hadn’t heard from Izzy by six, he hopped on his bike and went back to her house. This time he found the car parked in the driveway. He tossed the bike aside and ran up onto her porch, pounding on her front door. Slowly, it opened.

  “Hi, JD.” She stepped back, her face still pale, and signaled him to come in.

  “Are you okay?” He stood next to her as she closed the door.

  She shrugged. “I’m okay.”

  “It wasn’t Em. She told me it wasn’t her before I could even ask if it was. She swears she didn’t tell anyone and she doesn’t know who wrapped up the dog poop, either,” Max explained.

  “Dog crap? I wondered what that was. Someone must have a big dog,” she laughed softly.

  Her attitude disturbed Max. He expected her to be angry, at the very least upset. He didn’t expect this eerie calmness.

  He bent over to put on her dad’s slippers. She stopped him. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “Won’t he get mad?”

  “Ask me if I care.” She looped her arm in his and led him upstairs. “Come see the painting. I redid the sky right before you showed up so don’t touch, it’s still wet.”

  He entered her bedroom. A small tidy pile of clothes and knickknacks along the far wall caught his attention. “Redecorating?” he teased, trying to make her smile.

  “My mom and sister will be here soon. That’s stuff I won’t need any more. I’m separating it for my sister. As you can tell, cleaning is not my strong suit.”

  They went directly to her art room and she carefully turned the canvas around for him. “Wow. That is so beautiful, Izzy.” She’d painted in a sunset. You could still see the blue sky, only now it had bold streaks of reds and oranges, with a touch of yellow running through it. “I thought you said the sky was bluer?”

  “I changed my mind. I like this better. It’s the perfect ending to a perfect day,” she beamed.

  “You should try and sell it. I’ll bet you could get a lot,” he suggested.

  “No, this one’s for my dad.” Grinning ear to ear, she turned it back around on the easel, unnerving him.

  “Izzy, are you okay, I mean really okay?”

  “Yes. Don’t I look okay? I’m not moping around all sad and miserable. Isn’t that a good thing?”

  “Yes, but I thought you’d be upset after what happened, at the very least angry.” Max pressed her, wanting a reaction of some sort.

  “I was mad at first. I drove around, screaming and crying, trying to figure out who’d done that to me.” She sat on a stool by her easel. “Then I decided it didn’t really matter. None of it matters. I’m never going back to that school. Those jerks will never hurt me again, JD. I took charge of my life.”

  “Charge of your life?” It sounded good, but he still couldn’t get past his uneasy feelings.

  “Yes. I’m not going to be bullied any more. Not by the kids at school, and not by my perverted father. This is my life, and I’ll decide how it will play out.” She smiled. “JD, I feel like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I feel free and in charge of my life for the first time ever. It’s empowering.”

  “But quitting school seems a little drastic. How will you graduate? And what about college? Certainly you want to learn more about painting. You have a gift, Izzy. These are beautiful.” He held up a small, eight-inch square painting of her sister Kelley he saw sitting on the desk.

  “Thanks, JD. And so you know, college isn’t the only way for budding artists t
o learn their craft. There are apprenticeships too,” she pointed out. “Last month, my art teacher told us about one she did in Paris. Man, I wish I could go to Paris. Wouldn’t that be awesome?”

  “Yes, but you want a high school diploma, don’t you?”

  “Like I said, I’m not going back. I’m done. The end. Port Fare High is no longer a part of my life.” She shrugged.

  “What does your dad have to say about you quitting high school? I’m sure he’s not thrilled,” Max said, carefully setting the canvas down.

  “I haven’t told him, but to be honest, I really don’t care what he thinks. I’m taking charge of my life.”

  “I have to admit, you do seem calmer than I’ve seen you in a long time.” Max followed her as she walked out of the room and down the stairs.

  “I’m finally at peace. I guess I should thank Em . . . or whoever it was that gave me the dog crap.”

  “It wasn’t Em, I promise.”

  “Okay,” she said simply. She led him into the kitchen. “Hungry? I’m making up burritos, they’re my favorite.”

  “You can eat burritos?”

  “The docs said I could eat whatever I want, though it might give me gas. If you don’t mind listening to my baggie gurgling, you’re more than welcome to join me.”

  All the stuff she needed was in a grocery bag on the counter. “I stopped at Wegman’s and did some grocery shopping. My dad hates Mexican food, so we didn’t have anything I needed. He loathes the smell of garlic.” She held up a white bulb of garlic and wagged her eyebrows.

  As she browned the meat and added several cloves of garlic to it, Max chopped the lettuce and tomatoes. “Where are the knives again?” She pointed to an impressive display of knives on the counter next to the fridge.

  “Is this a coffee bean grinder?” He pointed to a tall black device with a plastic cap on top next to the knives.

  “Yup. Daddy’s pride and joy. Don’t touch it. I think he dusts it for finger prints when he gets home at night. No one touches the precious. The moron paid a fortune for it.”

  “We should touch it just to bug him.” Max smiled mischievously.

  “Be my guest.”

  Max wrapped his hands around the body of the machine, making sure to leave smudges. Izzy laughed.

  “You won’t get in trouble, will you?”

  “Nope.” She turned off the burner. “Ready. How about you?”

  “Almost.” Max quickly finished chopping up a tomato. They ate at the bar, mostly because her father hated anyone eating at the bar. “Civilized people eat at a table, not a bar, Isabelle,” Izzy said, imitating her father’s voice perfectly.

  After their spicy meal, they went into the family room and put their feet up on the couch, another big no-no, and laughed at her gurgling pouch while trying to watch Pride and Prejudice, Izzy’s favorite movie. Max, not being a huge Jane Austen fan, was glad she chose the two-hour one with Keira Knightly and not the six hour Collin Firth version.

  When the movie ended, Max tried helping Izzy clean up the mess. “JD, don’t worry about it.”

  “This is a big mess, Izzy. It won’t take that long if we work on it together. I’d hate for your dad to come home and see this.” Max opened the door to the dishwasher.

  “I’m serious. Don’t worry about it. He won’t be home until four or five tomorrow afternoon.” She closed the door. “You forget. I won’t be at school tomorrow. Come on. I have some errands to run. I’ll give you a ride home.” She pointed to a padded envelope and a rolled up canvas with a purple ribbon tied around it.

  “That’s alright. I have my bike.”

  “Thank you for coming over today, and thank you for worrying about me. You’re the best friend, JD.” She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tight.

  “Love ya, Izzy.” When she pulled back, Max saw her wipe her eyes.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said out of habit. “Oh yeah, I guess I won’t.”

  Max got on his bike, glancing at her smiling face one last time before riding away. He went straight home and called Em to let her know.

  “She seems to be doing pretty good, though she’s dropping out of school. Can’t say I think that’s a great idea.”

  “Me either. Do you think I should call her?” Em asked.

  “Yeah. Try and talk her into staying in school.” After he finished talking to Em, he thought about his evening with Izzy. He’d enjoyed himself. He loved her quick wit and her dry sense of humor. Her artistic abilities were impressive. The new skyline on the beach painting was the perfect touch. He never would have thought to add a sunset.

  “Izzy says she’s not going to let her dad bully her anymore, yet she’s going to give him that beautiful painting. I don’t get it, unless she hopes to use it as a guilt trip.” Max liked that idea. He went to the kitchen for a snack and found a note Mel left him tacked to the fridge with a magnet.

  “Hi, sweetie. There’s some leftover pizza in the microwave. Don’t wait up for me. Going out with friends from work and I’ll be home late. Love, Mom.

  Having Mel gone was a two-edged sword. The good part; she wouldn’t be sitting around moping about Tim. The bad part; Max enjoyed the few times she’d been around. He liked spending time with her. But those days were few and far between. He warmed up some of the pizza and ate a slice while finishing his homework. He went to bed at one a.m., and still no Mel.

  In the morning, Max grabbed a slice of the leftover pizza and ate it while he loaded his backpack. He darted out the door and almost ran over Em.

  “Hey.” She smiled and handed him a Heavenly Bagel sack. “It’s an everything bagel with onions and chive flavored cream cheese. Very un-Max like. He hated onions.”

  He grinned and took the sack. “Thanks, Em.” He admired the effort she took with JD. Not many people would. Max put the bagel in his backpack when he got in the car. He’d throw it away in the locker room during first period. She had it right, he hated onions.

  “You don’t like onions?” she asked, appearing slightly hurt.

  “Oh, I’ll eat it later.” He patted his backpack. “I just had some leftover pizza for breakfast. I’m stuffed.” He opened the car door for her. “Hey, I thought you weren’t allowed to drive?” he asked as he went around and got in. “And you no longer have a sling.” Though she still had a cast on her arm.

  “Nope. And the doctor okayed me driving. My dad wasn’t too happy about it.”

  “Sweet.” That meant no bus for him. “Did you have a chance to call Izzy?”

  “Yes, like four times. She never answered, but I did leave a message. I told her I didn’t tell anyone about her surgery, and that I would find out who was behind the revolting prank and personally hire a hitman to take care of them.” She turned into the school parking lot. “I need to stop at my locker. Are you still hauling all your books around to help build up muscle?” She giggled.

  “You laugh, but it’s working.” He flexed.

  “If you say so. See you in journalism.”

  As Max walked the halls, and during his classes, he paid close attention to everyone and everything around him. He wanted to know who left the package for Izzy. By the end of the day he’d learned nothing, but he was surprised by the way people acted around him since the incident. Several smiled and nodded, and one girl, a shy tenth grader from Izzy’s art class, asked him if she was okay.

  “Yes. She is. I’ll tell her you asked. What’s your name?”

  “Mindy.”

  “Mindy,” Max repeated. She nodded. “Thanks, Mindy.” She walked away, head down, shoulders scooped forward. Max made a mental note to find out more about her. She reminded him of Izzy with the downcast eyes and sunken posture. Well, the old Izzy anyway. The new Izzy didn’t hide from anything or anyone. He looked forward to getting to know this one.

  He hoofed it to his locker after school. Em had cheer practice so he’d have to ride the bus home. The school laid down the law forbidding the cheerleaders from performing any and a
ll stunts. Now they had to come up with a new cheer, fast, since the championship game was in two days. Em, being the captain, wanted to help choreograph it even if she couldn’t perform.

  Max set his backpack between his feet and quickly spun the combination, opening JD’s locker. A small red heart cascaded out, fluttering down to the ground. Max scooped it up and turned it over a few times. It was blank. He tucked it into his backpack as he retrieved his biology book to put into the locker. Only there was no room in the locker.

  A letter, taped to the door, fluttered in the mild breeze. It caught his attention first. He worked it free. Before opening it, he noticed a large padded envelope inside the locker, along with a rolled up canvas tied with purple ribbon. “Why would Izzy put this stuff in here? Why not give it to me in person yesterday?” He tucked the letter into his biology book and wedged it on top of the other books in his locker. Carefully, he removed the painting, untied the ribbon, and unrolled it. Two young, innocent faces lying in a field of golden dandelions smiled up at him. Izzy’d signed it in the bottom right corner. For my best friend. Love, Izzy. Smiling, Max rolled it back up and retied the ribbon, slipping it carefully back into his locker.

  Why would she give this to JD? She told me it’s her favorite. Then he remembered the red heart and put two and two together. Izzy’s in love with JD. “Way to go, buddy.” Max grinned from ear to ear. He grabbed the letter from the book and eagerly slid his finger under the edge. Tugging the letter out, he began reading.

  JD,

  Don’t be mad. Please. It would break my heart if I knew you were disappointed in me. You’re the best friend I’ve ever had. You’re pretty much the only friend I’ve ever had, but you know that already. You’ve helped me through it all. The loneliness, the mean, hateful things other have done to me, and my father. You are the one and only constant in my life. Not even my own mom cared enough to stick around.

  But I’m tired, JD. Tired of the cruel things people do to us every day, tired of living in pain all the time, and, well, just plain tired. I tried to see things like you wanted me too, really I did. I tried trusting people, and what did it get me? Humiliation.