My floor was littered with wadded up paper after an hour. That was when I dug through my bag and looked through the short stories I’d written on my own. I thought I could just use one of them. I didn’t think they were great, and I normally didn’t show those writings to other people, but I was at the end of my rope. I finally decided to turn in my story about an eccentric girl who fell in love with a boy who was out of her league. It may or may not have been based on real life events.
I didn’t even bother to reread the story. I only had to turn in the rough draft, and I was grateful for that because I didn’t think I could stand to sit at my desk for another minute. I stood up and stretched. My stomach growled, but I didn’t want to go back downstairs. I knew I was bound to run into one of my parents, which would give me the opportunity to talk to them about Mark Moses, and, even though I’d promised Tegan, I really didn’t want to do it.
I knew, however, it had to be done. It just wasn’t right. I couldn’t let Mark Moses keep bullying me. Before Friday, I was just worried about him taking my money, but after being stuffed into a locker, I was scared of him. If Tegan hadn’t been there, I wasn’t sure what he would have done. I didn’t want there to be a next time because I was scared, if there were another episode, he would really hurt me.
At the same time I knew it would only make Mark Moses that much madder if I talked to my parents and they went to the school to talk to the principal or someone. He was bound to get into trouble, and I would be to blame. What would he do then? I’d probably end up in the hospital. Or worse. Dead. I’d never been so scared of someone in my entire life. I used to get scared when Dad would yell about something, but that was nothing compared to Mark Moses’ presence. He didn’t even have to speak in order for my heart to start racing and my hands to shake.
As much as I wanted to crawl into my bed and never wake up, I knew it wasn’t likely to happen, so I had to face the facts. I was going to school the next day where Mark Moses was bound to be; unless, of course, he decided to ditch. Due to recent events it was quite clear that things seldom went the way I hoped. With no optimism in sight, my only option was to talk to my parents and hopefully get some help and advice from them.
I reluctantly made my way downstairs. I passed by the living room and saw that Luke had returned to watching Degrassi. It made me smile a little, but as soon as I entered the kitchen and saw Mom, my stomach started to churn. She was leaned over the counter reading some papers. She didn’t even look up when I coughed to make my presence known.
“Mom?”
She didn’t look up as she said, “Yeah, sweetie?”
“I need to talk to you about something,” I said, tentatively.
“Can it wait? I’m trying to work.”
I bit my lip. I would have loved to tell her it could wait and simply walk away, but I made a promise to Tegan. Part of me said I could just tell Tegan Mom was busy and I’d tell her later, but the other part of me knew I would be letting Tegan down. I knew she was just as scared of Mark Moses as I was.
I also knew that if I didn’t tell Mom right then, then I would probably lose my nerve and never do it. It was definitely a now or never kind of moment, so I took a deep breath and said, “Mom, it’s important.”
She sighed, “What is it, Silly?”
She still didn’t look up, and I could see her eyes were still scanning over the paper on the counter, so I wasn’t even sure if she was really listening. It wasn’t encouraging, but I thought it was probably as good as I was going to get.
“There’s this guy at school,” I began. I hadn’t practiced any of this, so I didn’t really know what to say. I knew I should probably tell her everything that happened just so she would know how serious the situation was, but when I opened my mouth, finding those words seemed so hard.
“Someone you like?” she inquired, sounding bemused.
“No,” I replied. Why would I consider talking to Mom, about a guy I liked, to be something important? I frowned and sighed as I continued on. “This guy’s name is Mark Moses. He’s . . .” I searched for words to describe Mark Moses. “He’s not very nice. Sometimes he takes—” the phone rang, and Mom reached for it as I finished my sentence with, “my lunch money.”
She looked at the caller ID before saying to me, “I have to take this.”
“Oh, okay.” My voice was soft and weak, and I wasn’t sure she even heard me. Not that she’d really been listening anyway.
She answered the phone on her way into the other room, and her voice was high and cheerful as she spoke rapidly to whoever was on the other end.
I stared at the floor for a moment, unsure of how I felt. Mom had never dismissed me like that before. Even when she was busy, she was usually the one who answered my infinite number of questions. She was the only one in my family who actually listened to me. Or so I thought. Today, she didn’t bother look at me. She couldn’t be bothered to listen. She didn’t even care.
I swallowed hard and fought back tears as I turned around to leave the kitchen. I was no longer hungry, and all I wanted to do was go up to my room, crawl into bed, curl into a ball and die. Or, to be less dramatic, cry.
When I turned I was surprised to see Luke standing there. He was staring at me with wide eyes. Luke started to open his mouth to speak, but he quickly shut it. He walked the rest of the way into the kitchen and over to the refrigerator. He opened the door and looked inside. I stared at the back of his head for a minute or so as he perused the refrigerator’s contents.
How long had he been standing there? Had he heard me talking to Mom? Did he know? And if so, what did he think? He was probably embarrassed to call me his sister. After all, I let some stupid, empty-headed imbecile steal my lunch money and intimidate and shove me into a locker. I was so pathetic. No wonder Luke and Skylar didn’t want anyone to know they were related to me. I was a complete loser. I decided I wouldn’t admit to knowing me either.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
I’d never really considered myself a huge fan of Tom Cruise. I liked some of his movies, like A Few Good Men, Cocktail, and Rain Man. War of the Worlds was kind of a let down, and I had absolutely no idea what he was thinking when he signed on to do Eyes Wide Shut. I started to watch it on HBO once, but after the first naked person showed up on screen, my eyes were definitely shut. “Jumping the couch” on Oprah didn’t help Cruise’s case either.
Regardless of my feelings about his crazy, and despite the fact I’d never actually watched any of the Mission: Impossible movies, when Monday rolled around, I found myself acting like I was Tom Cruise’s character—whatever his name was—as soon as I arrived at school.
Skylar and I didn’t speak during the ride to school. In fact, I hadn’t talked to her since Saturday night in the restroom at the bowling alley. I spent most of my Sunday locked away in my room, feeling like a huge loser and angry with Mom and scared to ask Luke if he’d overheard me.
The ride with Skylar, though silent, was far from comfortable. I seethed at her audacity and disregard for my feelings. If she could feel my anger, she didn’t let it show.
It was a relief to be away from her once we arrived at school, but fear trumped the reprieve. I cautiously made my way into the building and kept my eyes peeled for any sign of Mark Moses. The theme song to Mission: Impossible was playing in my head as I slid around the corners with extreme care.
When I made it to my hall, I proceeded to my locker only after taking a good look around. Most of the upperclassmen didn’t pass through that particular hallway often, but I thought it better to be safe than sorry. I put away my bag and gathered the books I’d need for my first class. As far as I knew, Mark Moses had no idea where my locker was, and I hoped to keep things that way.
After I had my things, I, somewhat reluctantly, went to find Tegan. I knew she was going to ask if I’d talked to my parents, and she would probably be disappointed things didn’t go so well. I didn’t think she could be half as disappointed as I was.
As much
as I hadn’t wanted to talk to my parents, I’d still been counting on them to help me out. Then Mom completely disregarded everything I had to say to take a stupid phone call. I was still mad at her when I left for school that morning. I didn’t bother speaking to her either, but she probably didn’t notice. Or, if she did, maybe she was happy. After all, it always felt like everyone in my family couldn’t wait for me to shut up.
As it turned out, I was right about Tegan. As soon as I found her walking to her locker, she asked, “How’d things do with your parents?”
Even though I’d expected it, it still pained me to explain what happened. I didn’t bother to try to hide how much it upset me. That would have required more energy than I possessed.
Tegan’s mouth formed into a little “o” of surprise before she pursed her lips, brows furrowed, and said, “I can’t believe your mom would just ignore you like that.”
“Well, she did,” I sighed, leaning against the locker next to Tegan’s as she twisted and turned the combination for her locker. “I don’t think she was really listening at all. I mean, she thought it was about some boy I had a crush on of all things,” I paused, fuming quietly as I replayed the conversation in my head for what felt like the millionth time. I shook my head to clear it away after a moment and muttered, “As if I’d ever tell her something like that now.”
“Maybe she just had a lot on her mind,” Tegan said as she pulled her locker open. “I’m sure she didn’t mean to brush you off.”
“But I told her it was important,” I insisted as Tegan tugged off her coat and stuffed it into her locker, “and she still wasn’t paying attention.”
“Maybe you should try talking to her again,” Tegan suggested as she dug around inside her bag for a moment before pulling out a couple of books and stuffing them into her locker.
“No, thanks,” I glowered as Tegan went back to pulling items out of her bag. “I think I’ll just let Mark Moses stuff me in a locker and let me die there. Then I won’t be an extra burden to my oh-so-busy mom, and Jackson will just have to find another way to get close to Skylar.”
Tegan stopped sorting through her bag and rolled her eyes at me. “Don’t be stupid,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Mark Moses is not going to stuff in you a locker again. I don’t care if I have to go to the principal myself, but I assure you that was the first and last time that ever happens. Besides, if you died, you’d be leaving me behind and how am I supposed to function without my best friend?”
I smiled a little at her intensity because she was such a kind person it was a little hard to take her seriously but she continued speaking with a hint of annoyance now present. “And I thought we already decided Skylar had no idea what she was talking about.”
I grimaced. The last thing I wanted was to rehash that conversation. I sighed, “I know, I know. I’m just frustrated.”
“That’s understandable, but don’t let it get you down,” Tegan said. “I don’t like this melancholy, woe is me version of you. It just isn’t right.”
“Being ignored by my mother isn’t right either,” I pointed out.
Tegan looked at me pointedly. I had a feeling it was her way of telling me to quit complaining. I knew she was right. Griping to her about it wasn’t going to solve a thing. Besides, it wasn’t as if being ignored was something new around my household. I just wasn’t used to it from Mom.
I hoped Tegan was right about Mom just being distracted. It’d make sense that she had a lot on her mind between home and working a new, full-time job. It was a pretty huge shift from what she was used to. I’d understood that before, but, in the midst of my drama, I’d lost sight of what was going on with Mom.
“Okay, okay,” I said, holding up my hands before Tegan could speak. “I’ll stop being a selfish, whiny brat.”
“You’re not selfish,” Tegan said with a smile. “A little whiny, yes, but since you normally never whine, I’ll excuse it.”
“Thanks,” I laughed.
“Besides, look on the bright side. We only have three days of school this week. Then we’re out for a four-day weekend. We’ll be off stuffing our faces for Thanksgiving,” Tegan pointed out.
I realized Tegan had a point. I’d almost forgotten Thanksgiving was so soon. We were leaving early on Thursday morning to drive to my Grandma and Grandpa Sawyer’s house. We were going to visit with Mom’s family because we’d gone the previous year to see Dad’s for Thanksgiving. I always liked seeing Mom’s family just a little bit more because they were more laid back. Dad’s side of the family was nice enough and I loved them, regardless, but they were kind of uptight, which was probably why Dad seemed like such a stick in the mud sometimes.
Despite the rocky start, the first half of my day turned out to be sort of okay. I was dreading lunch, though. I was sure Mark Moses would show up and turn me into an emotional mess all over again.
I was scared to death of seeing him. I’d also been afraid he’d told people what he did, and everyone would know I was the girl that was stuffed in a locker. The idea of everyone knowing I’d been stuffed in a locker was almost as bad as one of those dreams where you go to school and realize you’re only wearing your underwear.
Of course, it was an irrational fear. Mark Moses wouldn’t tell anyone what he’d done because that could only lead to trouble for him if a staff member overheard.
When the bell rang, signaling the start of lunch, Tegan and I started for our lockers, but Mrs. Willis asked Tegan to stay a minute.
Tegan turned to me and said with wide eyes, “Go ahead. Hurry.”
She was probably thinking along the same lines as me—if I stayed with the lunch crowd, I’d be able to evade Mark Moses. I nodded, clutching my books to my chest and said, “I’ll see you in the cafeteria.”
After putting my books away in record time, I followed the crowd of people headed toward the cafeteria. I thought I’d escaped the wrath of Mark Moses, but as I was walking, I spotted him walking against the crowd.
Immediately, my heart started to pound. For once I prayed my shorter height would be in my favor and he wouldn’t see me. He pushed his way through the crowd, and even though he didn’t appear to be looking for anyone in particular, I was scared he was going to notice me as I passed by, so I did the only thing I could. I ducked into one of the doorways and hid.
The throng of people continued to pass by, and I glanced at the sign on the doorway where I hid and realized I was standing at the entrance to the school library. I’d never been in it before, and I realized how odd that was considering I was such an avid lover of books. I peaked around the corner and saw Mark Moses was still lingering in the hallway, so I turned back and pulled open the heavy door to the library and slipped inside.
The library was much bigger than I would have guessed. From the outside, it looked like it would just be a small square room, but it was actually more a rectangle filled with shelves upon shelves of books.
Once I got over the initial shock of the supply of books, I glanced around. It was a somewhat dark, enclosed space with a high ceiling and wooden paneling along the walls; the only natural light came from the windows at the backside of the room that ran along the exterior wall.
I noted there weren’t many people around. The librarian glanced up briefly and smiled softly as I took a few steps toward the shelves of books. I felt like I was having a very Hermione Granger moment and was going to start salivating at the masses of books before me.
I walked along the bookcases and inspected the titles printed on the spines. There were so many authors and titles that sounded intriguing. They even had books our public library didn’t. I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. Skylar always said the sound of Billie Joe Armstrong’s voice was enough to give her an orgasm, and I always thought that was odd. But, now, seeing masses of wonderful books gave me a warm, tingly feeling in the pit of my stomach, and I wondered if that was the sort of feeling Skylar was referring to.
I looked around for a while, exploring the va
rious areas of the library. I discovered there was a computer lab near the back, and there were also a couple of smaller rooms with plaques on their doors, referring to them as study cubbies. I suspected more than studying went on in there when students were unsupervised.
Mostly, though, my focus was on all of the books. My heart swelled with pleasure for all the new reading material I’d discovered. I knew I’d have to come back and check out a few books before Thanksgiving. The drive to my grandparents’ house was close to two hours and I could easily get through a shorter book in that amount of time. It made me giddy.
I was shaken out of my book-induced stupor when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I jumped slightly and turned slowly. I was half afraid I was going to find Mark Moses hovering over me, ready to drag me out of the library and stuff me into another locker or worse, so I was surprised to find Jackson standing there.
“Hey,” he whispered.
My answer was a somewhat breathless, “Hi.”
“Looking for something?” he asked, nodding toward the stacks.
I shook my head. “No, just browsing.”
“Yeah, me too,” he sighed, combing his dark hair back away from his forehead only to have it flop back into place, but he didn’t seem to notice. I thought it was pretty adorable. “I have to do a book report,” he explained, “and I’m trying to find something to read. Now would be a good time for one of those recommendations you owe me.”
I grinned a little at that. “Do you want something easy to read and write about or would you rather read something a little more intellectually stimulating?”
“Either one would work,” Jackson shrugged. “Just as long as the book is good.”
I considered for a moment as I skimmed the shelf I was standing in front of. I picked up the first title that jumped out at me. “Flowers For Algernon?” I suggested, waving it in front of me. Then I reconsidered. “Although you probably already read it in eighth grade like I did.”
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