Page 33 of Yours

I take a steadying breath, but it chatters through my windpipe.

“I’m sorry, I’ll leave you alone,” he says. “I just thought…anyway,” he finishes with a sigh.

After I hang up, I curl into the couch cushions and cry.It’s in the past?Like hell it is. As for “you can be who you are,” I have no idea what that means.

The final ten days of school seem to drag on. It gets harder and harder to get out of bed. I stop eating lunch with Tiffany and Willow, and when I’m home I stay in my room. For whatever reason, I get super obsessed with knitting again, and even though I tell myself to study for an upcoming test, I knit a pair of mittens instead, staying up until two in the morning. Tiffany starts to give me wary looks, one time even wrinkling her nose. “When was the last time you showered?” she asked. I had to stop and think about it because I couldn’t remember. Maybe I do stink, but I’ve stop caring.

In biology I get paired with none other than Cory for our final two labs. He does a good job of sneering, and uses my every mistake to say something mean. By the time our final comes around, I feel like my head’s so mixed up that I’ll fail the test. During study week I knit a sweater, a poncho, and socks for my dad. I study a little, but not nearly enough.

The one thing that still comes easy is writing, and I turn in my final paper for English Lit and my collection for Poetry with the hope that at least I won’t fail these two classes.

The day of my biology final arrives. All the quiz sections get tested together in a giant lecture hall, with individual seats that have small desks attached. Because of the way I write, I have to turn slightly to the left to get the right angle to fill in the bubbles on the sheet.

As the tests booklets are passed out, I notice Cory is sitting behind me. Did he choose that seat on purpose? I scan the room for an empty seat somewhere else, but the T.A. standing in the front of the room says, “Begin,” followed by a flurry of students opening their booklets. So, I try to put him out of my mind.

I start to panic because the questions seem to swim on the page. I try to remember the formulas and the experiments and all the write-ups, but my mind goes blank.

Cory kicks the back of my seat.

I flip through the next pages, looking for a problem that looks familiar.

Then I hear Cory’s pencil drop behind me. “Pick it up, you little slut,” he whispers in my ear.

I look down at the #2 pencil waiting on the floor by the back of my chair, then at my test. I stand up. Even if I lose time by moving, I don’t care. Just as I start to side-step, I hear a softphutand feel something wet land in my hair.

I know what it is. I can feel it drip down a lock of hair and land on my shoulder. Suddenly I’m hurrying down the aisle, almost tripping on other students’ feet as I try to get to the end of the row. My eyes blur with tears, and I start gasping. I take the steps down to the center and hand my test to the T.A.

He frowns and is about to ask me something but I can’t explain so I cover my mouth and run from the room.

By the time I get across campus, I’m gasping and sobbing so hard I can barely see. Plus, it’s started to snow and the wet flakes stick to my eyelashes. I burst through my front door and head right for the shower, leaving a trail of clothes from the living room to the bathroom. I stand under the hot water for a long time, trying to get myself under control. The water runs cool so I get out and see my puffy, red face.

Tiffany pretty much avoids me these days, so I barely hear her when she comes in that night. Only she’s not alone—a man’s voice accompanies her soft giggle. They spend some time in the kitchen then move to her bedroom. Our walls are thin so practically everything gets through, including her mattress squeaking and his grunts.Is it Brent again?I wonder,or some other one-night partner?I lay there in agony with my hands stuffed against my ears, eyes closed, but the image of Ellis getting dressed and leaving my bedroom feel like it’s happening to me all over again.

Later, I hear them talking. Tiffany is giggling, and his voice sounds soothing, playful. I feel even more strongly how I don’t belong here. Nothing feels right anymore.

Twelve

Brian

Standing right at the exit from the terminal, I watch for Darcy, my eyes glued to the flow of travelers moving past me. At least Darcy answered my text, so she knows to look for me and not Milton, who still can’t drive.

I’ve been trying to call her for the past two weeks. I was starting to go crazy with worry. She finally texted me back and said that she couldn’t talk because of finals and how hard she was studying. I backed off, but I can’t help feeling something’s up. Has she found a boyfriend and is waiting to tell me in person? Fuck, this is hard. I don’t like all this silence.

I’ve been staying busy, though. I passed my first set of exams. Even got a B-. Not bad for a shmuck like me.

But running in the back of my mind 24-7 is how we left things between us. I made a huge mistake, not telling her how I felt. Everything was just happening so fast. I wasn’t supposed to feel like that with her. I tried to deny it, thinking I was just hot for claiming her cherry, but I was wrong. The idea of her so far away is killing me. And now, what I know about her background is eating me up inside. I have to make sure she knows she’s not like that, that she doesn’t have to be afraid, that she’s safe with me.

Finally, I see her. My heart climbs high into my chest, and I can’t help smiling. Her eyes are roaming, and when she spots me, the look on her face says something’s wrong. I hurry to her and take her into my arms. Whatever’s troubling her I can fix it. All that matters is that she’s here with me now.

She softens, and I pull her in tighter while people breeze past us in winter coats, talking on cell phones, towing small children, luggage. Darcy’s body gives a shudder, and I realize she’s crying.

Now I’m even more worried. “What’s wrong?” I ask, stroking her hair.

“I don’t know,” she whispers.

“C’mon,” I say after her body calms. “Let’s get you out of here.”

By the time we get inside my truck, she seems better. I reach for her hand and give it a squeeze. She smiles, but in a distant kind of way.

---