by Melody Dodds
before we go.
AT DINNER
Mom is weary.
Bleary-eyed and quiet but
trying hard
to smile.
Asking me and Isabella
about school,
about soccer and music,
about Alexis and Mia.
Asking, asking, asking,
but not listening
to the answers.
But she tries,
my mom.
She tries.
She’s so pretty, my mother.
I guess everyone thinks that
about their mother.
But I see mine so seldom;
sometimes I forget.
Mom is always working…
it’s alright.
Last year,
(We come here every year
for Mom’s birthday.
It’s the one day we go
to a real restaurant.)
Leo sat between
me and Isabella,
even though no one needed to.
Because
last year,
me and Isabella
were still cool.
This year,
Leo is missing.
If I weren’t floating on a cotton cloud,
I’d be missing
him.
His lean, lanky self,
his big, boomy voice—
almost always laughing.
Sometimes, too loud.
Leo is gone…
he’ll come back.
This year,
Isabella is pushed
so far away from me
that she’s almost sharing
Rupert’s chair.
If I weren’t floating…
I’d be missing
her, too.
Her dark, curly mane.
Her green, sparkling eyes—
almost always laughing.
Sometimes, in a mean way.
Isabella is always angry…
she’ll get on.
This year,
poor Rupert looks
like a walking dead person
on the verge of tears.
He used to be as handsome
as my mom is pretty.
He used to have
two good hands and
two good legs and
a mouth full of perfect teeth
that were so white,
they almost glowed
when he laughed.
He may still have the teeth.
I haven’t seen him laugh in so long
that I don’t know.
I used to miss him every day,
then just
most days,
now
only
every
other.
Rupert is always sleeping…
he’s okay.
THE MENU
The waiter comes and talks and sets menus in front of us.
The letters don’t look fuzzy.
But my brain
can’t seem to
quite
make words
out of them.
And,
if I’m honest,
I’m not hungry.
I haven’t been
in a couple days.
But I don’t want to upset Mom.
So when the waiter comes back,
I ask,
What do you recommend?
He says something about salmon.
I say, Great.
Rupert scrunches his tired, gray face at me.
Are you feeling alright? he asks.
Yeah, why?
Because you always get the steak.
Yeah, Isabella chimes in, like always always.
If I weren’t floating…I would
say…
something.
But since I’m all aglow,
I just shrug.
Rupert looks at me some more.
I’m maybe gonna not eat meat anymore, I say.
My sister rolls her eyes.
Oh, why?
Because that stupid Lekker band
is vegetarian?
For some reason, this makes me smile.
Which makes Rupert frown.
Not his usual
on-the-verge of tears
frown.
This is different,
like he’s concentrating real hard
or looking at something
that doesn’t make sense.
Or something
that he doesn’t
believe.
Are you sure you’re okay?
Yes! (haha) Why?
Rupert seems to be
paying an awful lot of attention
to me.
I’m just gonna go use the restroom real quick!
BATHROOM MIRROR
is showing me
Me.
But I can’t quite see…
I really make my brain focus.
I understand now
what Gramma meant
about “brain fog.”
It’s nice if you want to get lost in it.
But it’s a little scary
if you need to, like,
do something.
Even if all you need
to do
is to see
…what they see
when they
see
Me.
LITTLE PILLS
After
they eat
and I
take
a couple bites
but mostly
push food
around my plate,
Rupert goes
to get the car.
Isabella
goes with him.
It’s just
me and Mom.
Mom looks
like I feel:
glowy
fuzzy happy
content
She smiles
at me
over her
still half-full
glass of wine.
Thanks for coming out,
she says.
It’s nice
to see you awake.
I still sneak in
and check
on you girls,
you know.
(I didn’t
know that.)
She puts
her arm
around me,
rubs
my shoulder.
It’s too bad
about this sweater,
she says.
I know
it was
one of
your favorites.
It still is,
Mom.
You gave me this.
I know.
It used to be
prettier
is all.
It’s all
pilled now.
Pilled?
My heart
skips.
Mom
pulls the cuff
away from
my wrist,
rubs
her thumb
over it.
All these
little fuzz balls?
she says.
That’s
“pilling.”
All these
little pills
have wrecked it.
I hadn’t
noticed.
But now
I see
that it looks
wrecked
worn
tired.
If I weren’t
floating,
I know
I’d be sad.
About
the sweater.
About
my mom.
I know
I miss her.
I miss her
having dinner
with us
and watch
ing movies
with us.
And Christmas
is coming.
Who’s going
to help us
with the tree?
Mom’s
gone to work.
Rupert’s gone to bed.
Leopold’s gone to war.
Mrs. Schiller’s just gone.
Where are all the adults in my life?
And why
are all
these emotions
making it
past
the cotton?
Oh,
and I’m itchy.
So
I’m coming
D
O
W
N
fast.
AT HOME
Isabella walks in
as I’m changing.
She slams
the door,
huffs around.
I’m weighing
my options.
Deciding.
The sound
of her
whining
and slamming
dresser drawers
makes me
want to smash hers
and smash
her mirror too.
Make her stop
acting a fool.
To pill
or not to pill.
That is
the question.
Mom’s comments
about my sweater
sound
like a suggestion.
Like maybe
she knows
something
that I think
she doesn’t.
Something that
I wouldn’t
want her to know,
but maybe
she’s discovered…
Isabella
interrupts
my worrying.
What’s up
with you?
she snaps.
Rupert’s asking
all these
questions.
And since when
do you
eat salmon?
WHY DON’T YOU SHUT UP AND LEAVE ME ALONE! (Whoa.)
Her eyes go wide
like she’s terrified.
Which is how I’m feeling.
I’m reeling!
There’s nothing
to decide!
But it only lasts
a second
before she goes
into a lecture
about how
I should be better.
I need a pill
before I kill
my little sister.
Do you know
what he asked me?
she asks me.
I shove her
up against the wall.
Maybe you didn’t hear me!
Leave me alone!
I don’t want you near me!
Isabella
shuts off
the light
with me
still standing
in front of
my dresser.
She throws herself
into bed.
You don’t even
know why
I’m mad.
And I’m pretty sure
she’s crying.
But I’m so
angry
itchy
achy
sniffly
annoyed
that I don’t care.
NEWS FROM ALEXIS
They
loved loved loved
your mix!
We’re in!
Candy!
she pretends to eat it.>
Then she asks,
Are you ok?
You look
a little gray.
I’m kind of sick,
I say.
Like maybe
I have
the flu.
I don’t tell her
that I took pills
before
I came
to school.
Just two.
Just to take
the edge off,
get through the day.
Tomorrow
I’ll take
one,
then
none.
I know
it’ll be
okay.
What
do we need
to do
at this party?
Look cool,
be cool.
In other words,
show up?
I sure hope
that’s enough,
Just showing up.
AT THE PARTY
Alexis made me come.
You know how best friends do.
Now she’s gone.
It’s not my crowd.
I barely know these kids from school.
I’m wishing I was home.
Tyler lifts a Solo cup.
Mackenzie lifts the stakes.
Two little pills go in her mouth
and two go into Jake’s.
Madeline kisses Faith.
They leave the room with Noah.
It’s like home:
I’m in a crowded house,
and feeling all alone.
But I see
Johnnie C.
at the same time
he sees me.
Twirl my hair,
gloss my lips,
smile cute,
swing my hips.
And I’m nervous,
like I thought
I might be.
So I take a pill
from my pocket.
Glad I brought it.
(It’s not like me.)
Johnnie C.
sees me.
I say,
Don’t judge.
Don’t knock it
till you
try it.
And he says,
Oh
I
have
and I know.
I know.
I know it.
AT SCHOOL
Alexis says,
He’s your boyfriend?
Since when?
Since you left me
with him!
I went
to the
bathroom!
You were gone for an hour.
What’d you do, take a shower?
Charlotte,
Alexis says.
He does drugs.
I saw you take his pills.
Saw what they did to you.
Johnnie C.’s got a will
and a way
of making girls
do what he wants.
What Johnnie wants
is me
and what I want
is him.
So, I don’t see a problem.
But Alexis looks so grim.
I don’t argue
with my best friend.
Don’t tell her
that
the pills
were mine.
Like the decision
to end up
in the bedroom.
Smoke some pot
and drink some wine.
That’s where
she found us,
where
she dragged me from
before
she took me home.
Where I
crawled
in Leo’s
window,
no longer
drunk,
but
still quite
stoned.
I don’t argue:
She’s a real friend.
Let her think
she’s
getting through.
Besides,
her version’s easier and
better tha
n
what’s true.
FIGHT
Despite my trying to avoid it,
Alexis has this look
that I know better
than to toy with.
It’s the look
she usually has
before we fight.
But it turns out
she’s just worried about our gig.
It’s a New Year’s party.
So we’ve got plenty of time.
Yeah, as long as you use it to practice.
It’s a live gig you know.
Oh.
Well it doesn’t matter,
I’ll be using my phone.
I could pre-record something.
No one would know.
She glares at me.
I kind of feel she’s taking this
too seriously.
Four hours is a long time,
given what they’re paying us,
which isn’t much.
Her glare gets meaner,
This is—
Before she can tell me
what this is,
there’s yelling
from
around
the
corner.
MY FAULT
Hollering,
a voice
I know well:
You can go straight to—
shove
push
pull
tug
I told you
my sister was—
And I’m sad
before I see her,
the other girl
I know whose face
will whirl
around to meet mine
and Alexis’.
Know that she
has muscle
but won’t flex it.
But worst of all,
I know
this fight
is largely
my fault.
Alexis hollers
in her
Dad Voice:
What are
we doing here,
girls?
Because I should
have told Mia
a long time ago,
go away
and leave me alone.
I should
have just
ignored her.
Alexis takes hold of Isabella,
around the waist
from behind.
Isabella lost Mom, too.
And Rupert.
And Leo.
And though she never knew
Mrs. Schiller, she’d heard from me
how cool a teacher can be
and she lost her before
she even got there.
I really wish
I didn’t care.
But…
Alexis pulls Isabella away.
My sister’s arms
and legs
fly.
She is an animal
wild with sadness.
Isabella doesn’t like me
any more than before.
Instead,
she just dislikes Mia
more and more.
