Rebel and Soul

by Anna Kyss

  I sigh. As much as I hate wearing a monkey suit, I suppose I could put one on every now and then—as long as we still spend some nights in the forest.

  When I knock on the sorority house door, a petite blonde opens it. “You’re Madison’s guy, right?”

  “Yeah.” I love being called “her guy.” She can possess the hell out of me, and I won’t say a word. “Is she around?”

  “She hasn’t left her room today. You should check on her.” The girl steps back to let me in and gestures to the staircase.

  I pause on the first step. “What happened?”

  “Her dad.” She disappears into the kitchen, leaving me to find my way to Maddie’s room.

  Someone has made cute matching signs for each door. The letters look like climbing, swirling flower vines, with different color flowers for each letter. Convenient. Even though I’ve never been up to her room, I find her door quickly.

  Even through the closed door, I hear her muffled sobs. The last two days have been some of the best of my life, but I never even thought about how they would affect Maddie. That makes me the world’s crappiest boyfriend—if she even still wants a relationship after all of this.

  When I was younger, I went through phases of really missing my parents. I remember bawling for hours, while my sister just held me. She couldn’t do anything to bring them back. But I can make sure that Maddie doesn’t lose her family.

  I try the doorknob, but it’s locked. I knock twice softly, then when there’s no response, once again, more forcefully.

  “Go away!” she screams. “I’m done talking with you, Daddy.”

  “Maddie,” I call. “It’s me, Soul.”

  The crying stops, and a moment later, the door swings open. Maddie’s eyes are puffy, and her face is red. Dried tears cover her cheeks, leaving salty trails in their wake.

  “Hey, come here.” I pull her against my chest and wrap her in my arms. “It’ll be okay.”

  She stops sniffling for a moment and looks up. “You don’t even know what’s wrong.”

  “I know that I’m here.” I kiss her forehead.

  “My father came to see me.” She sits on the edge of the bed.

  I rest next to her and place my arm around her waist. “Maddie, I’m sorry. We should have stayed at the benefit then came right home.”

  “Do you regret bringing me to the forest?” she asks quietly. “Raven was pretty angry.”

  “You don’t know Raven. He’s always worked up.” I take her hands. “I don’t regret one minute—not the skinny-dipping or the kissing in the treetops.”

  “But—”

  “I’m mad at myself.”

  “For what?” She stops sniffling and looks at me curiously.

  “For getting you in trouble with your dad.” I wrap my arms around her again. “I should have behaved myself at your country club shindig and gotten wild and crazy later on.”

  “He doesn’t know about the skinny-dipping,” she says. “But he flipped out about my article.”

  “Your article? Really?” I can’t imagine why he would care what she majors in, unless he figured out we were doing something that’s sort of illegal. “Wait. You must have told him about the tree-sit. Did he read the article?”

  She sighs. “That’s what I’m so frustrated about. He doesn’t even know what we were up to in the forest.”

  My tension eases. If Maddie’s dad doesn’t know about the skinny-dipping or the tree-sit, I’m not to blame. I still hate to see her so miserable, though. “So what’s the big deal?”

  “I was pretty insistent that I was never going to marry Andrew.” She flops on the bed. “Oh, yeah. I want a career instead of sitting around as someone’s trophy wife.”

  I flop next to her. “What year is it again?”

  “I know, right?” She cuddles up to me. “He’s so self-serving. All he could think about was his precious campaign.”

  I flip her over and begin to rub her shoulders. “You should have told him about catching Andrew in the act.”

  Her muscles tense under my fingers. “I told him, but he already knew. It sounded like it has been going on for years.”

  “What? Is he going to kick Andrew to the curb?”

  Her voice cracks. “I received a nice lecture about men’s needs, and he pretty much confirmed that he’s cheated on my mom, too.”

  I’m having a harder and harder time remembering those family-first ideas I showed up here with. I don’t even notice how hard I’m rubbing her, until she lets out a small complaint. “Sorry. That pisses me off, though. He’s your dad. He should be protecting his little girl.”

  “You would think so, right? I think the only thing he’s protecting is his own career.” She wipes away another tear. “How can a parent be so selfish?”

  “I don’t know.” My parental knowledge is pitiful, given how young I was when I went to live with my sister. I lay next to Maddie.

  She snuggles closer, until her red locks spread across my chest. “Do you remember them?”

  I stiffen. “Who?”

  “Your parents.” Maddie raises her head and peers at me. “They died in an accident?”

  I jump out of bed. Nobody mentions my parents around me. My sister learned bringing up that topic was like jumping up and down on eggshells—something was sure to crack. “I was only eight. I barely remember them.”

  Maddie must have picked up on my reaction because she frowns. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring up—”

  “Hey, what time is it?” I look around for a clock. “Did you get your article submitted in time?”

  Maddie flops back on the bed. “I completely let all of my Daddy drama distract me. The cut-off is in fifteen minutes.”

  “Is it finished?”

  “I was going to proof it once more, but it’s all typed up.” She holds up a USB drive.

  “Let’s go.” I grab my keys and hold open the door.

  “Like this?” She gestures to her pajama bottoms and T-shirt. “I haven’t even bathed or brushed my teeth or anything.”

  “Who cares? Let’s get your story in, then you can come back and clean up.” If her family isn’t going to support her new career endeavors, I’m going to do anything I can to make journalism go from dream to reality for Maddie.

  Later that night, the café’s loft is packed. The tables and chairs are all full, so I sink to the floor and encourage Maddie to settle between my legs.

  “Is everyone here?” I call.

  “Yeah, let’s get started,” Cloud says. “Weekly update?”

  I stand up. “Monday morning, the loggers cut down two trees, right in front of us. The second nearly hit Grandmother.”

  “Thanks for covering for me, man.” Apple makes a Namaste gesture. “It was lucky you were available. They could have—”

  “Chopped down the tree we’re trying to protect?” Raven charges to the front of the room. “Yeah, you fucked up, Apple. Big time.”

  “Chill, brother.” Cloud tries to resume her mediating, but Raven ignores her.

  “No, they declared war. We need to be done with this nonviolent peace and oneness-with-the-trees crap and fight the hell back.” He turns back to Apple. “You’re the last fuck-up. If anyone else messes up, they’re out!”

  Raven’s anger has been brewing for a while. I’ve been keeping an eye on him, because he gravitates more toward violent actions than the civil disobedience our group was founded around.

  “Do you want to hear what the loggers were up to today?” After receiving several affirmatives, Raven continues his rant. “Building a road—a fucking road that is pointing right at Grandmother. We can sit in that tree until they carve the road right to her trunk. Or we could fight back!”

  A few people cry out in support of Raven.

  Maddie stands up and moves to the front of the room. Before the meeting, we went back to the sorority house so Maddie could shower. She’s wearing my favorite dress. The cherry-red fabric brings out the vibrant red hue of her ha
ir. Strappy white sandals complete the outfit. She stands out from the crowd, half of whom swim in a sea of tie-dye. The other half tend to dress in black clothing with poignant sayings across it. I’ll take my cherry-red sorority girl any day.

  Maddie clears her throat. “Um, I submitted my first article about the tree-sit to CU’s newspaper today. I just received word they’re going to publish it.”

  I cheer louder than anyone in the room, but Raven cuts off everyone’s enthusiasm.

  “Who the fuck cares about an article? Words in a newspaper aren’t going to the save the forest.” He stands up again. “We need to take action.”

  “You’re right. Words alone won’t save the forest.” Maddie glares at Raven. “Numbers could save it, though.”

  “I don’t know what kind of math you know how to do—”

  “Numbers of people. We need to get more bodies out to protect the trees.” She smiles. “They might be able to stop a few of us, but they won’t be able to do a thing if we’re a hundred strong.”

  She’s either a natural, or she’s watched her father practice countless campaign speeches. Either way, she makes me and nearly everyone else in the crowd believe. I stand up and clap, and soon, half the room follows.

  “Rebel,” I call.

  “Rebel!” Others yell.

  Maddie returns to the side of the room and gives me a little hug. “That felt so good. They believe in me. I’m not going to let them down.”

  Raven shakes his head in disgust. “Now, if we’re done fooling around, I need nonmembers to leave the room. We have business to discuss.”

  Maddie and two other people head downstairs. I catch her hand before she disappears. “Wait for me down below, and I’ll drive you home.”

  She blows me a kiss. “See you soon.”

  Her dress flounces around as she walks down the steps. My own personal Rebel. I have dreams of what we can do in that dress.

  I close my eyes for a moment and focus on the meeting. Raven’s right—the time has come for us to fight back.

  Maddie

  WHEN FRIDAY morning finally arrives, I’m awake, dressed, and out the door by seven. I didn’t get a great night’s sleep. I slept like a child on Christmas Eve, feeling restless, impatient, and eager for the morning to come.

  I grab a coffee and head across campus to the newspaper office. Walking helps me burn off some of my excitement. Still, I have to consciously remind myself not to bounce. Today’s the first time I will see my words in print.

  If writing feels this good, I’m never going to be able to stop.

  “Morning.” I force myself to act casual as I step into the office.

  One of the other reporters, Ben, shakes his head. “Girl, your first article just printed. Stop acting all proper and let it out!”

  I guess if anyone could understand the power of seeing your words in print, it would be another of the newspaper staff. Ben grabs my hands, and we dance crazily across the middle of the newspaper office, until the senior editor, Kevin, steps out of his office.

  “Maddie, can you come in here for a minute?”

  Hearing someone else use Soul’s pet name gives me pause. I have to remind myself that I am Maddie now. The student body of CU will know me as Maddie LeRebeller. They might not pronounce my pseudonym with the proper French pronunciation, but I have a new identity. I just hope I can keep it a secret, for my father’s sake.

  When I step into the tiny office, I’m careful not to knock over the piles of reference books and dictionaries that are stacked everywhere. I can’t take my eyes off the stack of freshly printed CU papers that sit atop Kevin’s desk.

  “I’m sure you’re eager to see.” He hands me one.

  The front page reads, “Grandmother’s Plight.” The front page! My article covers the entire first page and finishes up on page three. They didn’t cut anything. They even added a photo of a clear-cutting. It’s a stock image, not of Soul’s forest, but the ugly stumps will catch readers’ attention.

  I flip back to the front page and find my byline. There, in print, for all the campus to see, is my new name.

  “This is your first article, right?”

  “Yes. It’s my first one.” I have to focus on each word, so I don’t end up singing it from the rooftops. My first story!

  “I have to commend you,” he says. “You hit it out of the ballpark on the first try.”

  He must mean the front-page placement. “Thank you for the opportunity.”

  “This was a fantastic piece of investigative journalism. You had just the right number of facts along with some personal anecdotes that made the entire piece engaging.” Kevin picks out a thicker newspaper and slides it across his desk. Boulder’s city newspaper rests in front of me, with the same story and tagline, as well as my new name.

  After a long, quiet moment, I pick up the paper. “I don’t understand.”

  “Professor Ansler teaches the journalism class and advises our paper,” Kevin says.

  “I know.” I met the professor when I signed up for Journalism so late in the semester. Professor Ansler’s daily “Best and Worst” anecdotes pulled from his newspaper experience have been the highlight of his course.

  “He also edits Boulder’s city paper.” Kevin gestures to my article. “Every now and then, he’ll find a story that’s so well done, he selects it for his edition of the paper. Most people write for years without ever getting chosen.”

  I stare down at the city paper. Why would he choose my article? The others put so much more effort into their writing. For a moment, I dismiss being selected, thinking I just got lucky. Then I remember how easily the words flowed. “Wow. What an honor.”

  “That’s exactly what it is. You have talent, and I think you’ve found your calling.”

  You. Have. Talent. Kevin’s words, so different from my father’s quick dismissal of my writing, echo in my head. I nearly brushed off my first writing achievement because after years of being put down, I stopped believing in myself.

  No wonder I stuck with Andrew and blindly listened to my father for all those years.

  I’m done. I am officially finished acting like Daddy’s cute little puppet. I am done placing my dreams aside. I have found my calling, and I can’t wait to place my pen to paper again.

  Kevin hands me a tall stack of papers. “Keep them or hand them out to friends and family.”

  I hold the papers close. My writing. My words. My dream finally coming to life. “Thank you. I’ll have the next installment to you by Tuesday.”

  “Looking forward to it.”

  I glance down at that stock photo and pause before leaving his office. “Kevin, there’s a protest planned for today. I’m attending, but if you send one of the photographers, we could get some great photos for next week’s paper.”

  “Great call.” He picks up his phone. “I’ll see if Annie’s available. Have you met her yet?”

  I shake my head.

  “Look for a tall blonde with an enormous camera.” Kevin shakes my hand that’s awkwardly holding the shifting stack of papers.

  I try my best to walk calmly from the room, but when I see Ben, I have to dance one more time.

  Walking back to my place, I call Soul. “You’re probably busy, but…”

  “Never too busy for you, Front-page Maddie!” He whoops so loud, I have to hold the phone away from my ear.

  “You saw?” My heart melts a little. It’s only eight o’clock on a Friday morning, and he made the effort to pick up a paper already. “Which one?”

  He pauses for a moment. “What do you mean ‘which one’?”

  I calm my voice, yet again. The urge to squeal still hasn’t subsided. “Did you see CU’s paper or the city paper?”

  “Get out of here! Are you serious?”

  I nod then realize he can’t see me. I’m growing dumb with giddiness.

  “I’m running into the 7-Eleven right now,” he says. A moment later, he’s back on the phone. “Look at that! Maddie LeR
ebeller made the front page of the Boulder paper.”

  “You’re at the corner store?” The 7-Eleven sits catty-corner to the sorority house.

  “Uh huh.”

  “Why?” I walk a little faster. “I’m almost home.”

  “I had to congratulate you in person.” His voice drops. “And we have a few hours to celebrate before the action.”

  If I could run without dropping these papers, I would. I’ve been in the mood to celebrate all morning, and there’s no one I would rather celebrate with than Soul.

  When I round the corner, he’s standing in front of the house, his arms piled so high with newspapers, they reach his chin.

  “Did you buy out the 7-Eleven?”

  He nods, a sheepish look on his face. “I thought you might want extra copies.”

  I set all my papers down on the sidewalk then take his and plunk them on top. I wrap my arms around him. “Thank you.”

  He softly kisses my forehead. “For what?”

  “For making this morning special.” I rest my head against his shoulder and hold him even tighter. “When life-changing moments happen, most people could call their families, but…”

  “Hey, we’re going to celebrate together. The action doesn’t start until one, so we have a few hours until we need to head out.” He picks me up by my waist and twirls me around. “What do you want to do?”

  I glance at the enormous pile of newspapers and the empty streets. He made such an effort to make this morning special for me. The kissing and holding each other is nice, but I want to be even closer. I’ve been trained to be assertive and confident, but I feel incredibly shy about voicing my need. “Let’s spend the morning rebelling,” I finally whisper.

  His pale-blue eyes light up with excitement, and he grips me even closer. He places his forehead to mine, and when our lips nearly touch, he whispers, “I was hoping you were in the mood to rebel today.”