As I stared, trying to decipher whatever it was he was trying to say, Mr. Hennessy’s voice boomed from behind me. “Hurry, Miss Cooper, get your butt into my class or into Mrs. Singleton's office.”
“Oh . . . umm . . . sorry, Mr. Hennessy.” I turned one last time to look at Meekai, but he was gone.
I rushed to sit down, organized my things and snuck my phone onto my lap, putting it on silent and lighting up the screen, taking advantage as the class took their time to settle around me.
Meekai: Fine. You can stare at my ass but I draw the line at kissing. I’ve been saving myself.
My heart dipped. I knew he was joking, but to me it served as a reminder that I had no fucking idea what I was doing.
Meekai: I’d wait forever for you, Violet.
He goes straight for the jugular. Show no mercy, Meekai. Why did he have to come at me so hard?
Meekai: Sorry. I know that was full on.
I smiled. At least he knew it.
Meekai: You, Violet, are poetry, the sweetest love song. Your voice, the melody. Your smile, the hook. Your eyes, the forever they speak of.
Okay. His sliding scale from zero to one hundred was fully engaged. I spoke too soon.
My eyes scanned the last message, and dread spiked across every square inch of my body.
Meekai: Did you make that shirt for me?
Did he think I was stupid?
My heart raced. Saturday afternoon ran through my mind. His words, his promises . . . his touch. The shirt I’d made that night when I finally made my way inside. I did make it for him.
I'd locked myself away after dinner with Gamma. I’d needed to vent with my screen-printer. The song, the feelings that ran at me hard and fast threw me. How could I be scared of the way he made me feel whilst simultaneously running towards it?
I looked down at his message as Mr. Hennessy droned on about old poetry versus modern poetry.
How was I supposed to respond? That look on his face. I had no idea what he was thinking. He just stared at me like he could do it all day without an ounce of apology. Yet the anguish . . . I had no idea how to interpret it.
I responded by not responding at all. I felt uneasy, so unsure of how to feel. When I didn’t know what to say I stayed silent. I couldn’t shake that look on his face. I’m so stupid! Why did I think that was a good idea? I had no clue as to what I was doing and I had obviously upset him. Maybe he didn’t want anyone to know about the song, the playlist. Maybe he was mad because . . . there was no use trying to think. Come lunchtime I’d have my answer.
12
Radley
I made it through Contemporary Literature and the free period from hell. They only gave me more time to think; more time to come up with a hundred and one scenarios as to why Meekai had looked at me that way.
I made my way toward the cafeteria with my nerves sparking like electric shocks, twisted and lit, every synapse on fire. Maybe he thought I was mocking him. I felt completely unsettled with the thought that I may have hurt him. I might put on a sarcastic and tough exterior, but the truth was, I didn’t want him to hate me. I wanted the opposite.
I walked through the doors and stretched my neck through a sea of students to find Becca. I spotted her blonde waves right after I heard her raucous laughter. The one thing about Becca, she might have been beautiful and petite, but her laugh took over a room. It was loud, obnoxious and one of my favorite sounds.
Brooks sat across from her with her nose in her copy of Lolita as Becca talked animatedly, not stopping for a single breath. I laughed to myself noticing Brooks give a whisper of a smile and a barely-there nod. She was actually listening.
Had Becca broken the goth child? I swore that girl was like a magic unicorn. She could tame anything with an attitude.
Brooks turned her attention from Becca and a scowl took the place of her smile. Her eyes were focused on someone in the cafeteria line. I followed her line of sight and it landed directly on Linc.
I made my way over, looking between the two with a smirk on my face. Red hot hatred. It was palpable. He stared, she stared, both refusing to break until I took a seat next to Becca.
“Hey, guys,” I said with far too much pep. “Something up, Brooks? You look like you're about ten seconds away from making a bad decision that involves crime scene tape and twenty-five years to life.”
Becca chuckled. “Brooks and the Linconater have been partnered up in painting class.” She snorted. “Get this,” she continued. “They have to do a modern art piece together.”
“Yeah, so why is that making you snort like a pig off to slaughter?”
She slapped the table and her body shook. The laugh upped at least twelve thousand octaves. Brooks rolled her eyes and looked back over at Linc. Scowls reactivated. He shook his head; she flipped him the bird.
“What’s going on?” I exclaimed. “I left you a couple hours ago. What could’ve possibly happened in that time?”
“Everything,” Becca laughed. “They have to paint one another, like not literally paint one another's bodies, but some modern interpretation of the way the other sees them.” Becca choked out over her laughter. “At this point, their projects will be painted in one another’s blood, fuck the acrylics.”
Brooks slammed her book on the table and looked between me and Becca.
“I can’t stand the fucking golden boy jock. Seriously, look at him.” She frowned in distaste. “I know his type. Can’t stand someone who challenges him.”
“He was after Radley last week,” Becca chimed in. “I went out with him last summer. I’m pretty sure we both challenged him.” Becca’s laugh had turned to pissed off sasshole.
“Exactly,” Brooks agreed. “He’s not with either of you, is he? Challenge, can’t do it.”
Becca shifted in her seat and silently played with her can of Dr. Pepper before speaking, “I thought you were implying girls like us are weak.”
“No, I was stating the opposite. It’s him who’s weak. Plus, I didn’t know either of you before I formed that opinion. It could be Tiffany applying her lip gloss over there like it’s lube.” She pointed off to the head cheerleader, Tiffany O’Bree. “If you questioned him, intelligently presented an opinion, nope. Dude like him runs straight for the door.”
Just as Brooks finished her character assessment, Mr. Blue Eyes himself began to make his way over to our table, a huge grin on his face. He yelled something I couldn’t make out over his shoulder. I looked up to see it was Meekai he was yelling to. He was pointing Linc towards the table we sat at. Great.
“Fucking perfect,” I whispered under my breath.
“What’s up?” Becca asked.
“I don’t think he’s a fan of the shirt. I think I offended him. No doubt he’s about to make things difficult. I was only trying to . . . I don’t know. I thought he might’ve liked it considering he said the song reminded him of me.”
“What makes you think he’s angry?” Brooks questioned.
I looked over to him to find him looking at me with the same expression from this morning.
“Look,” I groaned.” He's pissed. His face looks all . . . anguishy.”
“Anguishy?” Becca laughed. “That’s not even a word, fool.”
“If it comes outta my mouth, it’s a word. I spoke it, you heard it. Word! Can you just focus?” I asked. She nodded as both her and Brooks looked at one another like they shared a secret I wasn’t privy to. “Yes, anguishy, like I hurt him, or he’s angry. I feel so dumb,” I covered my face with both hands, like that was going to hide me and erase the humiliation. “I just wanna sneak out, get in Betty and go home. I’ll tell the school nurse I’m feeling nauseated.”
I got up to leave but Becca grabbed the back of my shirt, dragging me back down to my seat.
“Would you just stop.” She laughed. “You’re being crazy. It wasn't anguish,” Becca said. “That look on his face right now? Is that the look you're talking about?”
I played around with my
cookie, watching him as he turned away, greeting the lunch lady and making her laugh. “Yes,” I mumbled. “Do you think he's mad?”
She laughed at me and looked at Brooks who was equally amused.
“No, Rads. That t-shirt had the opposite effect. I know you thought it’d be cute, but you my friend have just added fuel to the fire.”
“What do you mean? You just said you didn't think he was mad. So what freaking fire are you talking about?
“It wasn't anguish, Radley, it was ownership. He's totally turned on. He thinks you were claiming him. Making a statement. To be honest, I don't think he's wrong.”
“Wha . . . No!” Was I?
Linc thumped his tray down on the table, taking a seat next to Brooks as they continued their scowl off. She picked up her tray like a second grader with a grudge, and made her way around to sit on the other side of Becca.
“What are you two ladies talking about?” Linc questioned. “What’s with the loud ‘No’ being yelled across the cafeteria?”
“I wasn’t yelling,” I squeaked out, a couple of pitches louder than intended.
“What do you mean, two ladies. There’s three of us here, Lincoln.” Becca said with a cocked brow, thankfully changing the subject. “Be nice!”
“I’m sorry, Becca. What are you two ladies and the ice queen talking about,” he cockily rephrased as he looked at Brooks.
“You’re a dick,” she scathed at him.
“Suck my dick, Brooks. You know you're gagging to.”
“Linc!” I shrieked with shock. “Apologize.”
“What’s he done now?” Meekai asked as he took a seat next to Linc.
“Nothin,’ dude,” he shook his head. “Brooks here has a hard-on for me. And I thought you weren’t supposed to be talking to Radley.”
A growl rose from Brooks as she threw a French fry at Linc’s face.
“What the hell?” he yelled as he picked it up and threw it back at her.
Another fry flew through the air, back in his direction as Becca tried to intercept it. Her hand connected and sent it hurtling into a passerby.
“Sorry,” she apologized. “Oops.”
My phone vibrated in my back pocket, and I reached around, looking at Meekai as I retrieved it and opened my messages.
Meekai: When I saw that shirt . . . It made me . . . see poetry. Put your ear pods in and listen. Be brave. Press play, Violet.
**Spotify link**
Okay. He didn't seem mad. I pulled out my ear pods and tapped the link he’d sent. He sat with a heart palpitating smile peppered across his lips, and I couldn’t help but fidget with anticipation as the lazy strum of a guitar began to play. My heart beat harder, searching for blood flow and diving for oxygen as the first lyrics hit, the song momentarily cutting out as a message alert pinged.
I looked over to him, but he just shrugged and gently tapped his fist against his chest. His intention with the action was so loud. It said, hear me.
His smile had changed. It wasn’t cocky. It was contented, lazy, at peace. I decided this was my new favorite smile. I’d always remember the day he gave it to me.
I smiled back just as lazy, like there was only the two of us and not three loudmouths throwing insults and fries back and forth as we silently wrote our story.
The song he’d chosen to speak, the unspoken words penetrated all the empty places and began to fill them. His persistence had begun to stir things within me that I wasn’t sure I’d ever have the privilege to feel, yet here they danced in the pit of my belly, in the heat of desire that touched my skin and whispered to me with uninhibited hope.
I felt the beginning. I felt the nag of its touch, willing me to give in.
I looked down and opened up the message.
Meekai: I don’t ever wanna stop looking at you. Don’t make me.
Three words. Don’t make me. They were really big words when strung together. They meant something so big and what I felt were beyond me. Could he really look past my faults and be patient with them?
Radley: I’m falling.
Meekai: Let me catch you.
Radley: What if you can’t take the weight once you hold it in your arms?
I met his eyes for the briefest second. They were dark, serious, purposeful and mission filled.
Ping. Another message. I can’t look.
Ping. A message begging me to open it.
I looked up at him.
He nodded and tapped against his heart again.
Meekai: What's really written on the inside, Radley? I know, but do you? You keep warning me and playing it like you're not worthy. If you only knew how my heart beats for you, Violet. Please, open up your heart and let this begin . . . please?
Radley: Don’t you see? It’s already begun.
I pressed send. My truth unraveled like the loose thread on an old sweater. My knee jumped and fight or flight were struggling to take over as I watched him take in the words.
Sound fell away, my increased breaths were all I could hear as I gave a piece of myself away in the middle of a high school cafeteria, on a random Monday afternoon.
He didn’t look at me for what felt like forever. He sat glued to the screen of his phone. I noticed his finger shake as he finally began to type his reply.
I bowed my head, squeezed my eyes shut and felt sweat drip down my back as I waited.
Ping.
Meekai: Ok, you can look at my ass. That’s all you had to say, Violet.
I looked up at him and gave him a new smile. It said . . . this is the beginning. He looked at me like he’d just found his new favorite smile, just like I had only moments before.
Mine radiated back at him with a thank you. Thanking him for realizing that was the response I needed. It told me he was in; we were in. It told me that he knew I was holding my breath, and I needed his answer to help me exhale.
I exhaled.
He breathed in deep.
We laughed. Out loud. Snort riddled and uninhibited.
Linc, Becca and Brooks quit their arguing and stared at us like we were lunatics. Everything went eerily quiet as our laughs died down and three faces looked back at us loaded with questions. While they were lost in their world, we got lost in ours. So much went on while they were gone. I smiled at the thought and looked over to Meekai.
Ping.
I smiled and shook my head.
He smiled harder, so much harder.
Falling . . .
Meekai: Ok. You can kiss me too.
Fuck. Reality began to seep in and crack the edges of any confidence I thought I’d gained. My inexperience with something as simple as a kiss had my mind set to panic mode, a bunch of useless thoughts tried to take me under, all negative; all shame-based excuses. The thing was, I didn't care. As soon as the thoughts began, for the first time in my life, I just as easily shut them down.
I wanted this. Out of nowhere, I just wanted it. Desperately.
I didn’t want to wonder anymore. I wanted to purposely chase moments and demand they become memories that I refused to forget. All this right here, this is what I prayed for, moved for, sacrificed for.
I looked at my phone and repetitively read the message over and over, just like he had with my confession. The noise started, the insults reignited between Brooks and Linc, back to full capacity, for which I was thankful.
I was thankful because there were no opinions, no he shouldn’t be seen with her. It just was what it was. Normal. I wasn’t fat, or ugly. I wasn’t a joke. I was a girl who liked a boy. He was a boy who liked a girl who happened to be me.
Most people wouldn’t think of this moment as anything exceptional. It would only register as insignificant noise. But to me it signified that everything was changing. Finally, life had been handed to me, and I fucking adored it. I was falling in love with it.
I raised my head and looked at the people that surrounded me. They were laughing like loons. Linc was choking on a cafeteria fry as Brooks slapped his back, poorly and in th
e wrong place; he’d probably die. I could see the joy pasted to her upturned lips; she wasn't even trying to hide her smile. She’d ran over to him just so she could physically beat the fry out of him. Payback disguised as concern.
Becca had tears running down her face as she claimed, “Someone film this. It may be needed as evidence in court proceedings.”
Contentment fizzled and burst. It spread like the sweetest addiction. I shut my eyes and listened. I wanted to absorb all of it. Normal. Hope. Life. Mine. Finally. I opened my eyes and looked back to Meekai. It was like something had changed in him, too.
It’s strange how one decision could change things, good or bad. One minute you're arguing, the next you're planning all the what if’s that your mind was slowly beginning to collect and file away for the future. I had a future . . .
Hope does that, it holds onto life, giving you permission to dream of more. More opportunities, more feelings. Less no’s, more yeses. It gives you the strength to make decisions that you never thought you’d be making.
Don’t you see? It’s already begun.
I couldn't believe I’d admitted something so bold. I didn’t even know that was how I felt until I’d said it. But now that I’d given it life, I knew it wasn’t a stupid decision made on a fleeting feeling. It was absolute. It didn’t nag or pull at me. It still scared me, but it felt right, and I had to let go at some point and choose to live.
As I stared at him, I realized what it was that I saw in his mocha eyes. He was staring at me like I was his favorite new memory. We locked eyes in a standoff, a standoff I never knew I wanted until ten minutes ago, and I was left wondering how I even got here.
Thirteen Hours To You Page 15