by Quinn Loftis
Crap, did she ask me a question?
“I’m sorry. Could you repeat the question?” Tara asked as she covered the phone in her lap as much as she could with her hand.
“I said, could you please read the poem you wrote for the homework assignment last night?”
Tara inwardly groaned. She’d completely forgotten about the poem they’d been assigned yesterday. How in the world had she forgotten? She never forgot to do homework.
“Um, I would, but I don’t exactly have the poem with me,” she said.
“And where exactly would it be?” Mrs. Thorton asked, her lips pursing as her eyes narrowed.
“Somewhere in the part of my brain where ideas are formed.” Maybe that hadn’t been the best answer to give. She could have just said she’d hadn’t done it, but somehow, Shelly’s influence had taken over her mouth and she was spouting nonsense. At least that’s what she was going with at the moment.
“It would behoove you to take those ideas out of your brain, put them on paper, and turn them in to me tomorrow. Ten points will be deducted from whatever grade earn. I suggest that you make sure those ideas are quite brilliant.”
“Definitely. It’ll be the best poem you’ve ever read. I plan to blow your mind. Completely.” Tara, you can shut up at any point. “It will redefine poetry as we know it.”
“I’m sure it will,” Mrs. Thorton said dryly. Apparently she wasn’t buying Tara’s bull any more than Tara was.
When Mrs. Thorton’s attention was no longer on her, Tara glanced over to Shelly, who sat two rows over and one seat closer to the front. Her friend was staring at her as if she’d grown a second head. Tara simply shrugged. What else could she do? Apparently, ever since she’d met Elias, her head had been shoved so far up her ass that she was promising to redefine poetry. Someone please shoot her.
“Have you lost your ever-loving mind?” Shelly asked as soon as they were out of English class and headed to study hall, which was basically glorified free time for the seniors.
“Possibly. You have no room to talk. You—”
“We aren’t talking about me,” Shelly interrupted, pointing a finger at Tara as if she were an errant child. “We’re talking about you and your forgotten homework assignment. You’ve never forgotten to do your homework. And you sure as hell have never gone off your rocker with ridiculous promises about completely overhauling a form of writing that has been around since the dawn of time. I ask again, have you taken your brain out of your head, rolled it down a hill, and now can’t find it?”
Tara quirked a brow at her friend. “I really want to throat punch you right now.”
Shelly waved her off. “Like that’s front-page news? You’ve wanted to throat punch me since we met. Either fish or cut bait, but don’t keep making empty threats.”
“It wasn’t a threat, you bratty-ass heifer. It was a statement.” As they entered the art classroom, Tara’s phone vibrated, and the whole reason she’d acted like a moron in Mrs. Thorton’s class came rushing back. She’d been so embarrassed by her word vomit that she’d forgotten about the text from Elias. She pulled out her phone as she set her backpack down next to her desk and slid her finger across the screen without even looking at who the message was from.
As she stared down at the words on the screen, she heard Shelly ask, “Who’s E and why is this person texting you, and why don’t I know about them?”
Tara ignored her as she read Elias’s texts.
Why a mountain?
Was he reading the test she and Shelly had turned in? Already? And why was he reading it? He was still in training. Tara groaned as she remembered some of her answers. She had thought that Jax would be the one to go over them, not Elias.
“E is Elias,” she answered Shelly while also trying to keep her friend from grabbing her phone.
“How’d he get your number?”
“I’m guessing from the questionnaire that he is currently reading.” Tara grumbled.
“Oh, shizzle.” Shelly breathed out.
“That didn’t sound the least bit intelligent,” Tara pointed out as she tried to figure out how to answer the first text.
“My mind is blown. Don’t judge. Elias Creed is texting you.” Shelly’s face was full of wonder, like a miracle had been performed right before her eyes.
“Don’t say his name like he’s some famous person. He’s just a guy.”
“Just a guy who should visit infertility clinics so he can let all the women wanting children breathe in his pheromones and get knocked up.”
“Do you ever think before you open your mouth and let the words come out?” Tara asked, still trying to figure out if she should tell Elias why she’d chosen mountain or if she should tell him to bugger off. All the British television shows she and Carol liked to watch were finally paying off. She grinned to herself.
“Are you going to text him back or keep stalling by arguing with me?” Shelly challenged.
She was stalling. It greatly annoyed her when her BFFF was right. She finally texted him back.
Why are you reading my aptitude thing?
I’m curious.
Don’t you have work to do? Isn’t that why you are still in Buffalo?
I’m on break.
Of course he was. I’m not. I’m in class.
Which class?
“Oh my gosh, you are a liar,” Shelly said as she snatched Tara’s phone.
Tara grabbed for it, but her skinny, graceful friend moved like a freaking elf and jumped up on a table. “Shelly, give me back my phone or so help me I will not be responsible for my actions.”
“Hush, I’m busy.”
Tara climbed up on the table and headed for her friend, but the ass just leaped to the next table, still texting. Maybe Tara wasn’t the only one with some sort of mutated superpower. Maybe Shelly was a nymph or fairy or something else that could jump and leap with perfect balance and never look up from the phone she was staring at, all while smiling with way too much glee. Tara was scared to find out what her BFFF had texted Elias. Thank goodness there wasn’t a teacher in study hall or they’d have been hauled off for detention.
Finally, after six table hops later and much yelping and cursing, Shelly tossed Tara her phone and sat down in a chair, throwing her legs up on the table and sighing in satisfaction. Tara looked down at her phone and nearly choked.
I’m actually in study hall and have plenty of time to answer some questions. As long as you will answer some of mine. Quid pro quo, Mr. Creed.
All right. So, why mountains?
I find that I can relate to the large peaks. I have things in common with them. “No. She. Didn’t.” Tara practically snarled.
That’s very candid of you.
Why are you so interested in me?
I have been asking myself the same question.
Wow, if that’s not an asshole answer, I don’t know what is.
It’s the truth. Are you seriously interested in TGTE?
I’m seriously interested in something that TGTE has. At least I was until it morphed into the hole of a butt. Nobody is interested in the hole of a butt. Amendment: no girl is interested in the hole of a butt.
Why do I get the feeling that this isn’t Tara I’m texting with?
It’s my turn to ask a question. Do you have a girlfriend?
Would that impact your decision to come to work here?
You seem to be forgetting how quid pro quo works. You’re supposed to answer a question before you ask one.
No, I am not in a relationship with anyone.
That was the last text Shelly had sent before giving Tara back her phone. Tara could feel the heat coming off her face as she glared at her soon-to-be-dead friend.
“You’re welcome,” Shelly said with a smile as if she hadn’t just made Tara look like a lovesick fool.
“I can relate to the large peaks?” Tara snapped “Really? The hole of a butt! Did you hit your head sometime between yesterday and today and suffer brain damage that I need to know a
bout? Or maybe you started doing drugs in the past fifteen minutes, and that’s why you sent those absurd texts to a guy I barely know?”
“Psh, I’m not doing drugs and you know it. I’ve been with you for the past couple of hours. I think you would have seen or heard me snorting something.”
Tara ignored her and sent off a text of her own.
I did NOT send any of those texts. My dumb ass best friend grabbed my phone and took the liberty of messing with you. Please, kindly disregard them. Thank you. Goodbye.
Tara put her phone in her bag, too embarrassed to even see how he responded.
“Don’t be mad, Tara-bear.”
“How would you feel if I texted those embarrassing things to a guy you only just met?”
Shelly tapped her chin. “I’m not sure that’s a valid question since I don’t have a shame monitor. I’d have to care what people think about me to be bothered by you sending texts like that, especially to someone I didn’t know.”
She had a point. It was one of the things Tara admired about Shelly. Why did Tara care what Elias thought of her, anyway? Yes, he was intriguing, very good looking, and somehow interested in her. But none of that should matter because she wasn’t interested in him. Because he’d been an ass munch. And he was being an ass munch again by reading her personality test, which was surely not meant for the perusal of interns.
“You could have at least left out the amendment,” Tara muttered.
“But it was funny.”
Tara rolled her eyes. It was funny, but she wasn’t about to admit that to Shelly. Her best friend would never learn to behave if she rewarded her bad behavior.
Tara pulled out a piece of paper and pencil and tried to focus on writing the poem for Mrs. Thorton’s class. She had a headache and didn’t want to continue to wonder about Elias Creed and why he was texting her.
By the end of the day, Tara’s phone was burning a hole in her backpack. She’d forced herself not to look at it, regardless of the fact that something inside her was screaming at her to check her messages. It seemed to Tara that Elias had some power over her. And that was a feeling she didn’t enjoy. So, for that reason, and that reason alone, she made it out of the school doors without checking her messages.
“You want a ride, or are you walking?” Shelly asked as they headed down the sidewalk.
Tara started to say that she’d walk but then stopped. She looked around, searching for something or rather someone. She could feel eyes on her, feel them boring a hole into her. But none of her classmates were paying any attention. Not even Tucker, who was talking to a bunch of the football guys out in the parking lot.
“I’ll take a ride,” Tara finally said.
When Tara got home, she found a note from Carol. Her foster mother was working another night shift, and she’d left dinner in the fridge. She wished Carol was going to be home because she’d be a distraction from Tara’s thoughts and the freaking phone she still refused to look at. Since she’d been unable to focus on writing the poem during study hall, she decided she’d better knock that out before she got too tired to think clearly.
As she sat down at her desk, she pulled out the poetry assignment instruction sheet.
Poetry has been used for centuries as a way to express emotions. It can be evocative, persuasive, convicting, or peaceful. Each poem is as unique as the person writing it, yet it can reach across race, gender, age, and beliefs, touching each of those lives despite their differences.
Your assignment is to write a poem relevant to how you are experiencing life right at this moment. For example, the subject could be the stress of the upcoming changes from graduating, a relationship, a loss, or something to be celebrated or mourned. Write what’s in your heart, on your mind, or piercing your soul.
“It couldn’t be a poem about Whos in Whoville, or Green Eggs and Ham?” Tara asked as she pinched the bridge of her nose. She’d rather pull off her fingernails one by one rather than deal with her emotions at the moment. But then again, writing had always been the way she expressed herself. It had been her best friend, her comforter, her counselor when she didn’t know how to go to someone else because she feared how they would react. The pages of her diary were filled with writing that was also etched in her soul. Maybe writing about what she was currently feeling would help her purge Elias Creed from her mind and prevent him from getting anywhere near her heart or her soul.
She picked up her pencil and placed it against the paper and let the words flow.
For so long, I have wondered if I was left behind,
The pain I’ve felt so deep that death would’ve been kind.
So I built a wall around my heart, sealing it up tight,
Letting few anywhere near what had been broken that night.
Where love could have grown, I let anger bloom instead.
I planted seeds of bitterness and only those I fed.
There’ve been two constant lights who have stuck around.
Grasping my hand faithfully, they’ve helped me off the ground.
Still, there’s been something missing, a hole deep inside.
The constant ache and loneliness and not a place to hide.
Then out of nowhere, I was suddenly being pulled,
Toward an unknown future away from the life I ruled.
He stole my breath and all my thoughts he now held captive.
The life I had carefully built, I no longer wanted to live.
I find myself wondering, could there be more than this?
If I don’t take this leap, is there joy I might miss?
Do I want to continue holding onto the pain and past?
Or do I want to start anew, moving forward at last?
The fear of change keeps me chained, bowing to its whim.
It binds my hands and holds me fast, keeping me from him.
If I break these chains and let the walls come crashing down,
Can I trust that in the aftermath he will still be around?
Can I follow him into a future not planned and unclear,
Giving up the safety of the anger that has been to me so dear?
I have no answers yet. I have not decided my direction.
Explore the world before me, or stay behind my protection?
Perhaps the greatest reason for the doubts I do hold,
Is because I know he’s mine. I am his without being told.
There, I’ve admitted what I haven’t been able to say.
I think I know I met my soulmate only yesterday.
I don’t want him. I might like him. Yes, I’ve gone mad.
All I really do know is I want to kick him very bad.
Tara read the words several times and nodded at what she had written. Mrs. Thorton wanted her to write a poem that was relevant to her life right now. It couldn’t get more relevant than that. Assignment done and feeling a bit lighter since she’d gotten all of that out, Tara decided to clean the house and do some laundry because that is what normal teen girls do. Cue eye roll.
By dinnertime, the sky had opened up, and a torrential downpour was beating down on the roof of the house. Tara retrieved the plate Carol had left for her, which was covered in foil bearing a sticky note on top with “Tara” in Carol’s handwriting. Tara heated up the food and hoped the house wouldn’t lose power. She wasn’t afraid of the dark, per se, but you had to admit that losing power, at night, during a big storm spelled creepy.
After eating and washing her plate and glass, she headed back to her room and decided it was time to look at the dreaded phone and see if Elias had texted her back. Her stomach clenched in anticipation, partly because she was afraid he had texted back and partly because she was afraid he hadn’t. Yes, she was well aware she had issues.
She opened up the message app and breathed a sigh of … something when she saw that there was indeed a message from Elias.
Consider it disregarded. See you soon –E
“I’m sorry. What?” Outraged, Tara blurted out the words a
s if he were right there in front of her and would answer her question. What the heck did he mean by “See you soon”? Did he mean that he would see her at TGTE? Had she somehow gotten an interview because of her aptitude test thing? Were mountains what they were looking for? And not the kind of mountains Shelly had alluded to. Right? Or was it some sex trade ring and the mountains Shelly had alluded to were in fact the mountains they wanted? Bloody hell, her obsession with mountains was getting as bad as Shelly’s obsession with her hymen.
Tara smacked her hand on her forehead. “Pull yourself together, man.” She glanced at the time on her phone and realized it was later than she’d thought. She needed to take a shower and stop analyzing Elias’s elusive “See you soon.”
“See you soon?” She muttered as she headed into the bathroom. “Who the heck says ‘see you soon’ to someone they don’t even know? Weirdos, that’s who. Great job not analyzing, Tara. Way to be committed to your decisions. And who’s the weirdo if you’re the one talking to yourself?” Tara pointed her thumbs at herself. “This girl.” And with that final, completely out loud and spoken to an empty room declaration, she climbed in the shower and turned on the water. “Son of a baker! Elias Creed, I’m going to kill you,” she yelled as she looked down. She was so preoccupied with “seeing him soon,” she’d climbed into the shower fully clothed.
Chapter 12
Tara stepped out of the shower. Her wet clothes still lay in the bathroom floor. She heard a muffled pounding coming from the front door. She hurried out of the bathroom and glanced at her phone. Eleven o’clock. “Who in the bloody hell would be coming over this late?” she muttered. Not to mention it was pouring down something fierce outside. Who would want to be out in that? She quickly threw on her pajamas. Being home alone, Tara knew that answering the door didn’t seem like the smartest move, but the pounding wasn’t going away. In fact, it was getting louder.