“Mom, it’s ok. Really. It was a good opportunity. It still is. You don’t need to regret anything. I might not win the school popularity contest or anything, but I’ve got friends, and they don’t care about me being there on a cleaning scholarship. And I don’t care about it anymore either.”
“Ok,” said my mom. She walked around to where I was sitting and put her am around me. “You know, you’re way more mature than I was at sixteen. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Mom.” I leaned my head on her shoulder, feeling the bones underneath the smooth layer of skin. She’d gotten skinnier over the last couple of years. Maybe she was working too much, and unable to make enough time to eat a decent meal. I made a mental note to cook her breakfast the next morning. After a moment she let go. “I guess I better let you get to work, huh?”
I nodded. “Yep, I suppose it’s time.” I stood up and carried my backpack into my bedroom. I took my phone from my front pocket to plug it into the charger and saw a text from Sean. I’m sorry if I did something to upset you, it said. “Did you make it home ok?”
Maybe I had been a bit dramatic by running out of the party like I had, but still, I didn’t regret it. I’m home now, about to start writing my essay, I typed out. See you. . . I paused, realizing I didn’t know when or even if I would see Sean again. I deleted the last part and instead typed Sorry for running out so quickly. Everything’s cool. Then I hit send and opened my laptop. It was finally time to define myself.
Chapter 16
Over the last few weeks, I’ve struggled with the task of defining myself. Many of my peers and the staff members of East Point Prep know me as the school cleaner, the student on a scholarship who stays after school to sweep, mop, polish windows and sanitize the desks. In fact, this is what many of my friends suggested I write about, knowing it set me apart from everyone else in the school. And while I understood their point of view, after all, being the school cleaner has been a big part of my life for the last two years, it just didn’t feel like the facet of myself that I wanted to define me. Although I know that I am lucky for this unique scholarship that allows me to attend East Point Prep, I’ve been eager to explore additional activities that let my personality and talents shine. While my position at East Point highlights my work ethic and responsibility, it doesn’t exactly allow me to focus on what I think matters most, for example, combatting climate change or fighting against hunger. This realization thus put me in a bit of an identity crisis.
At East Point Prep, I have often felt a bit like Cinderella, scrubbing the floors in my rags while the princes and princesses dance around to their various extracurricular activities; soccer, football, Drama Club, Student Council and so on. I have to admit, I longed to be one of them. I yearned to belong, to be a part of the “we.” Eventually, this yearning evolved, and became less about wanting to be like everyone else to more about wanting to use my time in a way that would have a larger impact. That’s when my fairy godmother, Ms. Rose, interceded.
Because of Ms. Rose’s generosity, I have spent the last month volunteering for the Junior Gardeners Program at Taft Elementary School. For four weeks, I was able to suspend my cleaning duties and instead go to Taft Elementary after school every Monday, Wednesday and Friday, where, along with the teacher who founded the program and another high school volunteer, I led the students on a walk to their community garden space, where we spent nearly two hours tending to and harvesting the plants, and then enjoying the fruits of our labor.
Gardening with the children at Taft Elementary is about more than watering and harvesting the plants. It’s about fostering an appreciation for nature, teaching a sense of community and making sure the kids have nutrient-rich food to eat. In the garden, caring for one another is just as important as caring for the plants. The garden provides a calm that I and many of the elementary students unknowingly crave. It taught me more about myself than any other experience I’ve had recently, including the fact that I love working with children and could potentially have a future in teaching. So, while the process of defining myself may not be fully complete, as I think most people tend to evolve over their lifetime, what I now know is that I’m more than the school cleaner, and while I will go back to my cleaning duties, I know that I will continue to make time to volunteer with children, ideally in a capacity that allows us to connect with nature and practice environmental sustainability. Maybe I will follow in Mr. Brooks’ footsteps by teaching at an inner-city school where I too can start an urban gardening program, or perhaps I’ll start a nonprofit that teaches gardening to kids all around the city. The possibilities are endless and my contributions to the Junior Gardening program are just the beginning.
Above is an excerpt of the essay I wrote for Ms. Rose. I spent the entire weekend working on it, writing, revising and editing. I was happy with the essay, but more importantly I was proud of myself for getting to where I was. Finally, I felt at peace with myself. I was Darcy, the cleaner. I didn’t have a boyfriend and I didn’t have rich parents, but that was ok. I had everything I needed; a supportive mom, friends who liked me for who I was, and opportunities to continue exploring my passions.
“How did your essay turn out?” asked Paige when we sat down for lunch. “I know how worried you were about it.”
“It turned out great. I finally got it all figured out. How about yours?”
“Ok, I think. I didn’t start revising it until last night. I’ve just been so busy. I helped my mom with a fundraiser for The Breast Cancer Research Center on Saturday. And then I had like fifty tests to study for, plus SAT and ACT prep.” Paige sighed.
“And I’m sure you will crush all of those.”
“I hope so, but I need a break. Do you want to hang out this weekend? We can just watch Netflix at my place or something. Maybe Saturday night?”
“Yeah,” I said. “I would love that.” I rummaged through my lunch tote, feeling underwhelmed with the lunch I had quickly packed that morning, consisting of a blueberry Greek yogurt, some corn chips and a turkey sandwich with a thin layer of mayo. I bit into a corn chip. “So, I have to go back to swabbing the deck today.”
“Oh, yeah. I almost forgot about that. What a bummer. I wish you didn’t have to.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, but it could be worse, I guess. At least I still have my weekends and summer free.”
“So, what about Sean? You guys hung out a lot the last month. Are you going to keep seeing him?”
“I don’t know. Maybe, but I have a feeling not.” My stomach sank at the realization. The optimist in me hoped that Sean might stay in touch, but the realist in me knew that he had lots of other friends, and that if we no longer shared a common activity, there probably wouldn’t be enough of a reason for him to keep me in his circle. After all, I hadn’t heard from him since Friday night after leaving him alone with Molly. Who knows? Maybe he and Molly had picked up where he and I left off.
After lunch we walked to Ms. Rose’s classroom. I took my essay out of my Assignments folder and eagerly waited to hand it in.
“Pssst, Darcy.” I turned to my left to see Tristan leaning forward from his seat, which was kitty-corner to mine. “I just wanted to tell you that you look nice today, and every day, but especially today.”
“Um, thanks,” I said, tentatively. I was wearing my hair down, for the first time in months, with a red scarf tied around my head.
I looked at Paige, who rolled her eyes. “You’re going to have to try a lot harder than that for another chance with her, Tristan,” she said.
“Why don’t you let her make her own decisions, Paige,” said Tristan.
“She’s right,” I said quietly. In a way, it was exhilarating to be at the center of such a kerfuffle. A year earlier I never would have guessed that either Tristan or Paige would want anything to do with me, and now here they were arguing over my interests. And yet, I couldn’t gauge Tristan’s sincerity, which made the encounter uncomfortable.
“Alright, I understand,” he said,
leaning back in his chair. “But it’s ok, cause I like a challenge anyway.”
“Hand up your papers, please,” said Ms. Rose, waltzing into the classroom with a stack of ACT and SAT books in her arms. I turned to receive the bundle of essays being passed up to me and proudly placed mine on top. Finally, I thought, identity crisis over, at least for now.
“I am so excited to read these.” Ms. Rose collected the essays from everyone sitting in the front row. “I’ll try my hardest to have them back to you by Friday. Today, I thought we would spend some time talking about the essay section of the SAT and ACT.”
I looked at Paige, who grumbled and put her face down in her arms for a second before looking back up. “You ready to soak in some more test prep knowledge?” I whispered.
“Like I have a choice,” she said.
I laughed, but secretly, I felt like a kid being treated to a cone from the ice cream truck. I was probably the only student at East Point Prep who wasn’t enrolled in a fancy test prep course or studying with a private tutor, and I needed all the help I could get. I spent the duration of the class period taking detailed notes and listing the dos and do nots with specific examples. It was one of the most enjoyable and useful lessons I’d been given in recent memory, filled with Ms. Rose’s wonderful anecdotes, like the time she stayed up all night in college to write an essay that her professor had said was written beautifully, but still couldn’t give a passing grade to because she hadn’t actually answered the prompt. “The prompt was to compare two texts that had similar themes,” she explained. “After quickly reading it, I thought we could pick any two texts that we’d read in the class, but he wanted us to choose texts from a particular unit of the class, and if I’d read the prompt closely enough, I wouldn’t have wasted my time writing about Wide Sargasso Sea. Although I love Wide Sargasso Sea, so maybe it wasn’t waste of time, but I did fail that essay. The only time I ever received an F on an essay, and it wasn’t because it was written poorly, but because it didn’t read the directions closely enough.”
“That professor sounds like an asshole,” interjected Tristan. A few people snickered, but the profanity didn’t faze Ms. Rose.
“Well, some professors are,” she said. “When you start college, you have to prepare yourself for that. Chances are, you’re all going to need a stiff upper-lip.”
The bell rang, and I stayed seated for a while as everyone else rose from their seats to move on to their next period. When the classroom emptied out a bit, I approached Ms. Rose. “This is for you,” I said, handing her a box with a personalized coffee mug I’d made for her online. It had a pretty picture of a bouquet of flowers on it with the words Best Teacher Ever and her name at the bottom. “I know it’s not much, but I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate what you did to help me.”
“Darcy,” she said, opening the box like it was something from Tiffany and Co. “I love this. Thank you so much.”
“Thank you for giving me the chance to volunteer at Taft. It was a great experience.”
“Well, Mr. Brooks really enjoyed having you there to help. I know you can’t go back this spring, but they do have a summer program, so if you’re free over the summer and want to . . .”
“I’d love to,” I said.
“Great! Just send him an email at the end of the school year.”
The next wave of students was entering the classroom. “Will do,” I said. “See you tomorrow.”
I walked to German feeling invigorated. I might have had to give up gardening, for now, but at least I still had Ms. Rose.
Paige found me at my locker after school. “Please don’t let Tristan ooze his way back into your life. You and I both know he is not good boyfriend material.”
“I don’t think he’s being all that serious, Paige. He probably just likes the attention.”
“Well, good. I’m glad you see through his poor attempts at charming you.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t make out with him again though.”
Paige gasped. “You wouldn’t do that, would you?”
“I don’t see why not,” I lowered my voice to a whisper, ensuring the wrong person wouldn’t hear. “He is a good kisser.”
“Darcy, what you need is a dependable boyfriend, not a gigolo. And it can’t be that hard to find someone else who can kiss. So, if Sean is out of the running, at least for now, then I need to work on finding you someone else. I know! Maybe Tom can set you up with somebody. A mature college guy is probably just what you need!”
I chuckled. Here we go again, I thought, Paige’s eternal quest to make my life as perfect as hers. “Paige, I’m good. Really. Anyway, I have to go check in with the office for my cleaning assignment.”
“Ok, I’ll let you go, but I’m asking Tom to recruit one of his cute, single friends for you.”
“Bye, Paige,” I said as I headed for the office. I hoped that ignoring her last announcement would discourage the action she was threatening to carry out, but I never could tell with her. At least with all of her fretting over my relationship status, I knew that she cared about me.
I walked into the office, where Mrs. Hammerman was waiting with a welcoming smile on her face. “Hello, dear. It’s so wonderful to see you in here again. I heard you got a little time off. How was it?”
“Really good. I got to hang out with elementary kids in a garden. It was perfect.”
“Too bad it couldn’t last, huh?” she said, handing me the clipboard.
“I’m hoping to get involved again over the summer. But for now, it’s back to cleaning.”
“You sure are a trooper, honey. Have a good afternoon.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Hammerman.”
I went to the supply closet to get my sanitizing spray, some rags and the broom when I felt a vibration coming from my sweater pocket. “I’m in front of your school. Can you come outside?”
I re-read the message, wondering if it was a mistake. Was it meant for someone else? Perhaps, Molly? Why would Sean be standing outside of East Point Prep? I walked over to the vestibule in front of the main entrance and looked outside. Sure enough, there stood Sean, standing halfway down the long row of concrete steps, wearing the olive-green hoodie that suited him so well. “What are you doing here?” I asked after I’d pushed open the doors. I set down my bottle and leaned my broom against the brick wall and tried my best to take the stairs one at a time to meet him, when my heart had wanted me to leap over them all at once.
“You left this at my house.” Sean held out my marble patterned stainless steel water bottle that my grandparents had given to me for my birthday the year before. I’d always had it with me on gardening days.
“Thank you. It must have fallen out of my backpack.” I took the water bottle from his hand, lightly brushing my fingers against his. “Did you really come all the way here just to return my water bottle?”
Sean shrugged. “I thought you might need it, and I know these things aren’t cheap to replace. Plus, I was hoping to see you in your school uniform.”
My heart danced a little jig within my chest. “So, what do you think?” I put my left hand on my hip and did my best to strike a Peeps-worthy pose.
“It’s cute.” Sean grinned and looked down at his feet. With any other guy, this exchange might have felt indecent, but with him it felt wholesome and sweet.
“Thanks for bringing this. I wish I could hang out but I have to go back inside to clean.”
“Oh yeah, there’s one more thing.” Sean ran down to the bottom of the steps and pulled out a bucket that had been hidden behind the bushes. It appeared to be filled with spray bottles, rags and some rubber gloves. I stared for a moment in confusion. Does he really think I want a bucket full of cleaning supplies?
“Is that for me? Because that’s nice and all but the school provides all of the supplies I use.”
“No. These are for me.” Sean ran back up to where I stood on the steps. “I’m going to clean with you.”
“You don’t
have to do that,” I said, uncertain as to whether or not he meant it seriously.
“I know, but I want to.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, you know, to keep you company.”
“Well, ok, if you want. I’ll take the company.” I ran up to the door and poked my head inside, my knees shaking in excitement and nervousness. Is this really happening? Did Sean really bring his own bucket of cleaners as a way to spend time with me? A lone freshman was sitting on the bench in the vestibule, probably waiting for her ride. “I think we’re ok. Follow me and act natural,” I said, grabbing my spray bottle and broom.
“Do you think I’ll get kicked out?” he asked.
“I don’t know. You’re probably the first student from a different school who’s wanted to sneak in to help sanitize.”
“It does sound ridiculous when you put it like that.” Laughter blurted out from my mouth, and I put my hand over it to keep it contained. It felt exhilarating, knowing we were breaking the rules in such a way, not doing anything bad, but still, something slightly rebellious. And I was doing it with Sean, whom moments earlier I doubted I would see again.
As we walked into the school, I looked side-to-side, ensuring Mrs. Masterson wasn’t in the hallway. “We have to be covert,” I said. Supplies already in hand, we tiptoed down the hallway, then quickly crept through the door leading to the stairwell and went to the second floor. We went from room to room, turning the corners with our backs to the wall, like people out of a cheesy spy movie, avoiding rooms that were still occupied by teachers. At one point we skulked our way into a room that looked empty from the hallway, pulling out our best secret agent moves, using the spray bottles as props, saying “all clear,” as we entered, only to see Mr. Braun, the Spanish teacher, sitting in a desk in the back of the classroom with two of his students, apparently reviewing test grades. They all stopped what they were doing and looked at us in perplexity as we slowly backed our way out into the hallway without saying a word.
Darcy, Defined Page 15
