by Leanne Davis
I click on the link to apply for enrollment. She appears startled as she sets a hand on my wrist. “What are you doing?”
“Applying.” I press the key, raising my eyebrows, my tone of voice calm and logical. “Right?”
“I can’t just apply now. Not yet. Not today.” Panic tinges her tone, and her eyes grow big as saucers.
“Yeah, you can. Here, now, today. You’re over eighteen, you have a high school diploma, and you meet all the criteria required to apply. You told me you wanted to. The deadline for winter quarter is only a short distance off, so why not beat it by getting your application in now?”
“I—I can’t. I just can’t do that.”
I set my hand over hers, and she claws my forearm. I try to pry her nails away from digging into my flesh. “So you just wanted me to bring the website up for you?” I’m challenging her, and I can tell she’s annoyed.
“No. I just wanted you to help me figure out what I need to do. Show me how to do it. I can’t begin to understand the process.”
“This is how. You apply. Then you go to the testing center and sign up to take their placement tests. Look at this, it’s available on a walk-in basis. It will take you approximately two hours.”
She starts to rise. “I just know I’ll fail. I can’t sign up yet.”
I grab her arm and tug her back to sit down before she can storm off. “Yes, you can. It’s not a pass or fail. It’s strictly so they can place you in the proper English and math classes. So what if it’s a beginning class? You’ll start there and begin the journey. It is all a new adventure for you. You’ll be learning how to learn. That’s a win for you, right?” I raise my eyebrows as if to nudge her with my delighted facial expression.
She’s nearly hyperventilating so I press on. “Jacey. I’ll go with you. I’ll even take you there. You’ll be okay. I swear.”
She shuts her eyes and squeezes them tight. After consciously taking several long, deep breaths, she replies “I just don’t want to look stupid.”
I cup her chin in my hand, making her eyelids flutter open as I stare right into the dark depths of her gaze. “You. Will. Not. Look. Stupid. Okay? Not having any access to decent schooling or good teachers doesn’t make you stupid. You were just trying to survive. That doesn’t mean you’re stupid. I’ve talked to you often enough to know you are not stupid.”
She stares long and hard right back at me. It’s a painful moment. Her gaze darts to my forehead, eyes, nose, lips, neck and back up again. “At most, I hope to be average. I’m not intelligent, not like Wesley.”
“You don’t have to be a genius. You can do amazing things just by working hard. There is no reason you should not fill out this application today and take the free placement tests and look into applying for financial aid. There is no reason for you not to try.”
She swallows, and her throat vibrates in the most delicate movement. “I’m scared. I’m so scared of competing with people like you.”
We are only inches apart. I don’t even know where my family is so it’s just us alone, and the house is completely silent. I’m still holding her jaw in my hand. I run a thumb across the skin where her chin dips down below her lip. “Why would you say people like me?”
“You’re educated. Smart. Successful. One of the good kids. You know what I mean. It scares me to walk into a testing center. I flunk tests, Wyatt. I never excelled in taking them. I failed and floundered and always felt stupid.”
“This will be different. And forget about me. I’m not judging you. I think you can do this. No, I know you can do this.”
“One of my biggest fears is looking stupid. And feeling out of place. And having someone see through me and know I’m a fraud.”
“It’s not like that. I swear to you.”
“For someone like you, maybe.”
“It’s not anything like high school. It mixes high school graduates with people in their fifties and even older students who are trying to switch careers. I swear to you. I wouldn’t let you go into any place where I thought you would be embarrassed.”
“You don’t know though. You don’t know what I’m like or where I’m from—”
“No. But I’ve talked to you enough to know you’re pleasant, polite, and perfectly respectable. You just need to walk into a testing center and sign your name. That’s it. That’s all you have to do. Just walk in there. The rest is easy, and they tell you what to do afterwards. And I plan to get to know you much better, Jacey. And nothing will change what I think of you right now. I’m sure of that.” I hold her gaze and imagine my words sinking into her brain through osmosis. I wish she could feel my energy inside her mind to convince her that she can do this. “You just gotta walk into the building. You can do that. No problem.”
“It means so much more than that. It’s—”
“Not. It’s nothing more than that. I’ve done it. And I’ll be right here. Supporting, helping, and guiding you. Hell, it’s my thing. I’ve been in charge of my class schedules for a long time, and I’m doing a pretty damn respectable job so far, if I do say so myself.”
A slight wrinkling on her forehead suggests she cannot repress a smile. “You are obnoxiously on the ball about everything for someone your age.”
“I am.” I tilt my head with a deliberately cocky smile. “So you should take my advice. Trust me. What have you got to lose?”
She grumbles. “If you knew all the asswipes that used that line on me before…”
My smile fades. “Except, I’m not an asswipe, and I’m not using a line on you. I’m pushing you to do something you told me you wanted to do.”
She nods. “I did. And I do. I’m just scared.” Then she shakes her head. “It’s my fault now. All mine.”
The last part is mumbled, and I tilt my head. “What’s your fault?”
She waves her hand about as if it to illustrate nothing. “Oh, something silly I just realized.”
“What do you think you’re at fault for?”
“Not the past, just the future. I realized that what happens from this day forward is now my fault. I am no longer a hostage of my past. I am finally free of it. Whatever I do from here on out is entirely my own fault.”
“So that’s a good thing.”
“If I do it right. If not, then it’s my fault, and that’s bad. But it still scares me.”
“Another Rachelism?” I tilt my head. The quotes she chants in her mind break my heart but also make it swell with pride. She tries so hard to be different and better. I never met anyone who wanted to improve her life more than Jacey Walker.
“No. All mine. I came up with it.”
“I like it. A lot. I think I should use it, too. I know you’re scared. I think you have been petrified for a long time. But you don’t have to be afraid anymore.” I have to fight the desire just then to lean forward and brush my lips over hers, and something else holds me back. Our gazes stay locked and a jolt ripples through me. Awareness. A depth of feeling I can’t find words to describe. But it is mixed with a growing sense of apprehension. Millions of doubts fill my head when I recall the asswipes she told me about. They pushed her into doing bad stuff, I’m sure, judging by the guy who tried to strangle her. I just don’t know what to do. I can’t imagine taking such a liberty as kissing her after what’s she’s suffered. I don’t know if that would be the right response from me.
I slip my hand from her face and turn forward, clearing my throat to cover my anxiety and distress. I don’t want her to know how unsure I feel. “So I’m going to click on the link then.”
She doesn’t agree, but she doesn’t try to stop me either. We wait for another window to open, and I glance her way. “Want me to type in your name?”
She nods. Her gaze is stuck on the screen. Grave. Serious. Scared. Her mouth twists from one side to the other, and I wish I could soothe her ragged nerves. But I think Jacey needs to do this because she can, and there is nothing in that moment I can say or do to make it any easier for her.
/> She imagines herself as David facing Goliath. She envisions the community college workers and students pointing their fingers at her or forming a gauntlet and expelling her from the campus. She considers herself a fraud. She has to realize she isn’t. The community college was designed exactly for someone like her. She is seeking more in life but lacks the grade point average to be accepted by a university right now. She also needs bridge classes to improve her standing and overall experience in college. The starting point is all she has to deal with, and more than anything else, I believe this path for her is an excellent one.
No one will even notice she’s there. If she prefers to never talk to a soul, no one will bother her. She could make her college experience as fulfilling and involved as she chooses. But she has to be the one to decide, and the kindest thing I can do in this situation isn’t to recite the perfect cliché or to hold her hand. I must push her to do this. Let her see beyond what she can’t currently envision. We finish the application and request a copy of her high school diploma through an online portal to be sent directly to the community college.
Jacey leans back and folds her arms over her chest. She sighs as though she just finished a grueling final or bench pressing her own weight. “You’ll get in, don’t worry,” I tell her once again.
“They must take anyone then.”
I push on her knee that’s closest to mine. “It’s a start. The best path for you, and you can do it right now. Quit being so crabby at me for it.”
She bursts out laughing. “Crabby?”
“Yeah, you’re being crabby.”
“Huh. Okay, I admit I’ve never been told that before. Then again, I never had a grandpa in my life.”
I scowl at her, but a grin is just behind it. “Let’s go eat.”
“You and Wesley are always so hungry. How much food does it take to fuel giants? A truckload?”
“Come on, Jacey Walker. You just applied for college. That deserves a celebration.”
Her breaths hitches, and she drops her foot to the floor where it was crossed over her knee. “Wow. It sounds different when you say it like that.”
“You mean the truth?”
She nods. “I guess so. Yeah. The truth. I just applied for college.”
I rise to my feet and hold my hand out to her. “So let’s go celebrate.”
Just as I say that, Wesley and Dani walk in, talking and laughing over something. They stop when they spot us. “Celebrate what?”
“Jacey applied to attend the community college.”
Dani clapped. “We’ll be classmates. We can commute together. We can—”
I put a hand to my throat and slash it, trying to silently tell Dani to cut it out. Jacey is in front of me so she can’t see it. Dani’s voice stops when she notices me and registers my hand signals. Her grin fades into tightly pressed lips. “And I just took that too far.” I love Dani’s swift perception. Common sense and intuition are Dani’s super powers. She immediately figures out what Jacey had to convince me of.
Jacey shrugs, nods, and looks away. She buries her hands in the pockets of her jeans. “Well, it’s a long way off before we’re going to campus together. Right now, it’s enough that I even gave them my name. You know… baby steps.”
“No, it’s not. I am so proud that you did it. You’ll get in. It’s on you after that.” And yeah, Dani was a most direct person, too.
Jacey nods. “I hope to really do something. I’m just a little nervous. Grades and studying were never my thing.”
Dani scoffs. “Duh. Considering that most of your teen years were spent dodging horny old men and avoiding drugs, I’m sure going to college never quite hit the list of top ten things you worried about.” Dani grabs Jacey’s arm and links it in hers. “Let’s go celebrate that you took the first step. That’s the hardest one. I’m so proud of you.”
Jacey ducks her head and leans towards Dani’s small body. I sigh, slightly disappointed we’re not celebrating alone. Jacey glows with joy at Dani’s attention. I forget sometimes that Jacey has no siblings, no mother, no grandmother, or even a close female friend. The best friend she has is Wesley. So starting a friendship with someone like Dani must make Jacey feel flattered and grateful. She acts as if she feels blessed that Dani would bother to give her the time of day.
We take Dani’s car into town and have an impromptu celebration. We raise our soda pop on ice glasses to toast Jacey, and she beams as she shakes her head and keeps telling us to stop. But I don’t miss the gleam in her eye. Oh, damn. The way her eyes are glistening tugs at my heart like nothing else ever could. Pride. Fear. Confusion. Hope. Joy. I lift my glass and say, “Here’s to your life being all your fault from this day forward, Jacey.”
She lifts her face after holding it down towards her chest. She stares at me. For a long pause, our gazes are fastened on each other. Then she nods, clicks the glass that I hold out to her and only her, and says, “Yes. Here’s to my life becoming all my fault.”
Dani and Wesley drink and stare at us with curiosity. I don’t bother to turn and explain the strange toast I made and neither does Jacey. But they don’t ask us either. We eat and laugh and enjoy our observance of Jacey’s emergence as an adult. Dani and I pay for the drinks since we have the most money and the least amount of bills. No one comments about it. We grab some candy and go to the beach where we build a small fire in the sand and stay until the middle of the night. We talk of everything and nothing: the goings on of people in Silver Springs, all the places Wesley traveled, some of the nicer foster homes Jacey lived in, and Dani’s goals and plans for her life after college.
It gets so late that we are yawning, and the conversation slows. Dani leans against Wesley who wraps his arm around her. After a long silence, Wesley suddenly says quietly. “I think I’m going to join the Army.”
I’m shocked, and I jerk upright and look at Dani, but she doesn’t react. She stays exactly as she is. Sighing, she puts a hand on Wesley’s chest, gripping the material of his shirt.
“Why?” I ask. “You have a home and shit and what about Dani? Why would you leave all of this?”
He shakes his head and glances down. Dani stares up at him with a gentle smile. She supports this. They must have talked about it before now. I know Dani well enough to read her. Wesley sucks in a breath. “I have no other way to build a future for myself, Wyatt. I never learned any trades, and I have no desire to further my education in college. I have survival skills. I like the outdoors. I’m strong. My assets are what the Army needs. And most of all, I want to do what your dad does. The Army is the best and most direct route for me to get there. I can’t go to college. No way could I sit still in a classroom for years to have the necessary requirements to apply. Plus, the chances that the WDFW pick a service member are far higher than for someone who isn’t a member.”
I’m tongue-tied. It’s a fucking brave honor for him to join the service. It’s bold, extreme, and decisive. Yeah, it’s definitely something Wesley would do. Dani already has her plans in the works and twelve freaking years of school. Yeah, she’s in no hurry to get married and start a family. That just might fit them to a T. I swallow and nod before I applaud the goal, as if I’m kidding around. I nearly choke up with my flood of respect and regret. Respect that he’s the brave, courageous one. Usually, I get all the credit for such things, and I’m just a chickenshit. And regret because I’m not as brave.
“Damn, you really did swallow all of my dad’s corny sales pitches.”
“I really did.” Wesley nods, pressing his lips together. “I still have to get my high school equivalency results. But the rest of the requirements… hell. Boot camp sounds better to me. It’s active and hard and—”
“And damn if you don’t already have your survival training down pat.” I nod and get up, going around the fire and kneeling beside him as I put my fist out. He stares at me. I stare back, my mouth turning grim. “It’s so fucking brave. A first class move.”
He fist bumps me back wit
h a smile and a nod. I move away, and Jacey approaches Wesley next. She hugs him. “Will you be back?”
He pats her reassuringly. “I’ve done nothing yet. But yes. This is my home now. And Dani’s home. It’s my home base, and it’ll take a few years to set me up. Otherwise, I’ll spend the next lifetime trying to figure out how to be a success. I can’t do college. I think I could do the fish and wildlife thing… and…” His head shakes as he adds, “I also can’t be a dishwasher for the rest of my life.”
“You’re okay with this, Dani?” Jacey asks.
“I understand it. He’s too restless for school, and to reach his end goal, I think it’s a good start. I believe in setting high goals and following plans to achieve them. I have pretty serious and time-consuming goals of my own, but I think we can survive this. We aren’t flaky or needy, neither of us. Sure, it scares me a little, but also—” She glances up at Wesley, and her eyes shine with pride as she cups his cheek. He sets his hand over hers. “I believe in him, and he makes me so proud.”
We rise to our feet and kick the sand over the fire until it’s out. Dani and Wesley hold hands, and I walk beside Jacey. We fall silent, lost in our own thoughts, tired and yet… very invigorated. This was different than any time I’ve ever spent with a group before. I have friends in Silver Springs and also in high school and college. At no time with any of them did I feel the camaraderie like this. Maybe because we are a little older. We are also looking towards a future that comes from our dreams and not just killing our time.
Wesley barely settled here, and he’s already planning to leave. But Dani is staying. He’ll be back for her. She’ll always come back here, so I doubt we will lose touch. This guy will no doubt wind up being my brother. He belongs to my parents now. He also belongs to Dani. He belongs in Silver Springs, too, and I think I could get used to him belonging to my family now.
I feel suddenly more connected and closer to these three than I have to anyone in years. Surrounded by a constant barrage of unknown people, I often feel lonely and isolated and misunderstood. But the warmth and connection I share with these three is real, intimate, and honest and it feels so damn nice. Like I’m not Wyatt the football player or the son or the good example. I’m just one of them. A part of them.