Her smile was infectious, and I couldn’t help returning it. She was right though; this was the beginning of
something great. The bus finally arrived, and we all made our way over to it and grabbed a seat. Deandra sat next to me. We talked about school and her previous life. She moved from California, which explained her tan, and she was smart. I was already hoping she had a few classes with me. It would make the day so much more bearable.
The bus pulled up to the high school. It looked like a detention center. It felt like a detention center, or at least what I assumed a detention center would feel like. We spent about 6 hours a day under constant supervision, being told what to read, what to write, and even what to wear. Yes, high school was definitely a detention center. It’s also a reality television show. I knew people assumed I was gay because they had never seen me dating someone. All of the stupid remarks the jocks made about me were pretty comical. So I walked to class alone and didn't date; that made me homosexual? Well what about them? I mean they did shower with the other guys on the team. Don't jocks slap each other’s asses also? I mean if anyone was gay, it’s them. I know I shouldn’t think things like that. I’m not homophobic by any means. We’re all entitled to our own sexual preference. Those jocks just get me riled up, and instead of unleashing the beast inside, errant thoughts surface.
I was heading in the direction of my next class, Algebra, when I heard a conversation that caught my attention.
“We saw you talking to Logan earlier. Do you just move to new towns and start dating guys the first day?”
“Umm first I don’t know you, second if me and Logan were dating that wouldn’t be any of your business, and third jealousy is an ugly color.”
I turned around at the perfect time. One of the girls from the bus stop and two of her minions blatantly stared at Deandra like she grew two heads. I think the girls names were Ashley, Macy, and Marcy. Deandra saw me and smiled, walking away from them and over to me. I couldn’t contain the laughter from seeing the expressions on their faces, total Kodak moment there.
“Why are you laughing so hard Logan? That’s not the first time today that someone asked if we were dating. It’s like you’ve never had a girlfriend or something, and I’m the first girl you have ever hung out with”
“That’s because you are. I never dated someone before. There’s too many complications with my life to form any bonds with anyone. That and the fact that I don’t bend to the high school
expectations of dating as many girls as possible and trying to sleep with them. I have bigger problems to worry about.”
“Wow Logan. Are you sure you are only seventeen?”
I could tell she was trying to figure me out. Everyone tries with no success, but I knew Deandra was different. I knew I could trust her and let her in. The problem was I knew my dad wasn’t going to stay locked away forever. I knew there was a big chance he would get out any day now. Did I want to take that risk and let her know me? Everything in me screamed yes, I need that connection with someone.
“You want to come over after school? I can explain some things, fill you in and you can decide if it’s worth taking the risk on me.”
“Sure. Now let’s get to Algebra and pretend to learn about the Pythagorean Theorem. We can learn how it’s not going to relate to the real world unless we’re math majors.”
We busted out laughing and made our way into the class. Of course we sat in the back of the classroom. I’ve never been a fan of math, but I’ve always gotten good grades in the class. People think it’s because I’m a nerd or teacher’s pet which is ridiculous considering I spoke to no one. I understand math because every equation has a solution, even the equations that can’t be solved can be answered with “no solution.”
Before I knew it, the school day was over, and I was meeting up with Deandra outside. She wasn’t kidding when she said people were talking about us. That's another perk of being in high school; rumors with no basis for truth. What is it with girls that makes them feel like they have to gossip? I know guys gossip too, but not about who is dating who or what the other guy has that he doesn’t. Well maybe guys wonder, but we don’t put it out there like that. Now it seems like you can’t be friends with the opposite sex without having sex with them. Deandra was very attractive but I didn’t see her like that. Maybe it’s because we had a connection on a different level. It’s probably something we would need to discuss; I didn’t want her to get the wrong impression.
“So Logan, we should probably have a talk," she said to me.
“Why does this feel like a ‘break-up’ conversation?” I laughed so hard at the stunned expression on her face after I said that.
“Very funny L, but I’m serious. I need you to know that I don’t see you like that. What I’m about to tell you has to stay between us. Do you understand me?”
“Deal D. Besides best friends don’t tell each other’s secrets, right?”
I know I’m sounding like a complete girl, but Deandra was different. Hanging and talking with her felt like she was a guy. She wasn't too girly or a tomboy. She’s a balance of both. She dressed and spoke like a girl, but loved sports like most guys and could give them a run for their money by talking about team standings. I liked watching sports, but even I didn’t know half of what she does.
“So I’m bisexual. I like girls and boys, but I prefer to be with chicks.”
I must have had a comical look plastered to my face, because her serious one broke into a series of giggles that just wouldn’t stop. She was laughing so hard that she turned red and started crying.
“That wasn’t what I was expecting, but that’s…awesome. I was thinking we needed to talk about the same thing after all the rumors being spread around school. I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me that.”
I was. If she could trust me with her secret, then I thought maybe I could trust her with mine.
Chapter 5
April I’ve always wanted to write something meaningful, so I thought maybe the shrink was right. Maybe getting a journal would help. I used to love to write, so maybe this would be a step in that direction. Who knows? Maybe one day I’ll write a book.
Dear Diary,
So writing is supposed to help me. Hmm well, here’s to hoping I can be helped. I don’t have much to say except that I keep toying with these poems in my head. I figured I can write them down and eventually make sense of them later on.
Misunderstood Memory Every night I sit and wonder What's left for me to ponder? My life’s a mess I live a lie Here I wait and wonder why I break the rules and make mistakes
More and more my heart will ache Days will come and Days will go Love and Laughter I'll never know The truth of me will always be Just a misunderstood memory
Somehow she was right. Writing my feelings down seemed to be helping. My mom told me she was going to be moving me to another school. It was only a week before spring break, but I didn’t complain. I put her through hell those 2 days I was gone, so I figured I owed her. She said the school was a charter school, meaning it was self-paced so you could do as much as you can as fast as you can. Lisa tried to get her dad to pull her out and enroll her into the charter school without any luck.
The week flew by. This school was so different. There were no classes; everything was on computers. Each person set his own goals for the day and tried to meet them. The teachers were really cool too. They had this attitude that was very soothing. They acted like there were no stupid questions. If they didn’t know the answer, they would look it up and help you understand. I finished with English II and math models in no time. Math models was a weird class; it taught me how to balance a check book and to set up a budget. Really? Why did I need to know that? I felt like I was going backwards. I mean I was in AP Geometry at my last school, and I had to learn how to balance a check book that I didn't even have. I was so glad when spring break came. I missed my friends.
Dear Diary,
So new school, new people, new teachers,
blah. It’s not as bad as thought it was going to be. At least my brother is with me and we watch out for each other. I don’t hang out with Stephanie much anymore. I blame her for my rents finding out. Part of me wants to thank her, but I feel so betrayed. I wrote this poem about her, it’s not the best but then again it’s just me expressing myself right? So it doesn’t really matter.
A Friend
You made me believe you were, I told you things I've told no one before, So you were a friend.
I thought you were for real, I thought you were perfect, I thought you were a friend. Now I've come to see,
Everything I thought was make-believe So in the end you lost a friend.
My birthday came around; I turned sixteen, which meant I could start driver’s ed, get a paying job, and buy a car! I always wanted a mustang, but I doubted I would be able to get one. It would just have to be on my dream list.
We picked up Lisa, Sandra, Stephanie and her baby cousin to stay the night at a cabin for my birthday. No matter how hard times were, my mom always made birthdays special. I don’t know what I would do without her.
We got to the cabin, went swimming, ate pizza, listened to music and hung out like we used to. My dad and mom were arguing, big surprise there. Steph’s cousin Ronnie and I were outside when I heard Steph talking about me. I couldn’t concentrate on exactly what was being said, but by the
whispering, I knew it wasn't good.
“April, she’s been talking crap about you since you stopped hanging out with her.”
“Seriously Ronnie, I don’t get why she has any reason to be pissed off. She’s the one who screwed up.”
“I don’t know, but if I were you I wouldn’t take it.”
Ronnie was twelve, and for her to say that about her cousin meant something serious was going on. I decided to go confront Stephanie. I ran up to the cabin, but no words came out. That night I must have blacked out because I had no idea what happened next. All of a sudden my dad was in my face, while my mom was putting Steph and Ronnie in the car. My head started hurting and I could hear my brother and his friend Jay telling Steph, “Damn, my sister fucked you up!”
They left, and I sat up on the bed and asked what happened. Well apparently I came into the cabin and started punching Stephanie in the face while she was sitting on the bottom bunk. I also managed to hit my head on the top bunk. It figures that I would try to knock myself out.
“Well that explains why my head hurts.”
“April, your mom tried to get you off of her, and when you pulled back you connected with the bunk bed frame. Lisa couldn’t move then because your head was on her lap while you were bending over connecting punches to her face.” Sandra said reluctantly.
I look up at Lisa and she has this look on her face,“What’s wrong Lisa?”
“Umm. That was a little freaky April. You didn’t look the same. It was like this whole other person.”
“I told ya’ll I was tired of people walking all over me. I heard her talking about me. Ronnie said it’s been going on since we came back.”
“We were going to tell you...”
“Yet you didn’t Lisa. Should I end the party now and have my dad take you two back too? I mean if you’re my friends like you say you are, why you would let her continue to bash me at my birthday party?”
“We told her to shut up when you came running in.” Sandra pipes in.
“Yeah April. She opened her mouth to tell us we were stupid for still hanging out with you when you punched her right in the jaw, impressively I might add. I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“There’s a lot in me that no one knows about Lisa.”
I had this feeling that the night I turned sixteen was the beginning of a whole new set of problems. I wasn’t a fighter. I never thought I had that much anger. I wish I could say it got better, but it didn’t. That Friday we went to the movies like we always did, and some guys were being very disrespectful to my friends. I got tired of it and got in one guy's face. You know how guys say they would never hit a girl, yeah that’s a load of bull shit. He pushed me to get me to step back, and I punched him. I had another black out; maybe I should get that checked. I got into my friends car, and we goto Sandra’s house.
“Oh man, you have a black eye. What were you thinking April? Seriously, are you like having a mental breakdown or something? I think we need to start calling you Rocky or something.” Sandra says, standing in a boxing stance.
Incredible. I was being scolded for sticking up for them. “Umm no Sandra, but I figured you and Lisa would have more respect for yourselves and not let them disrespect you that way.”
I looked at Lisa, and she looked terrified. “Are you ok Lisa?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I just can’t get over the fact you just fought a guy. I’m supposed to be the tomboy, April, not you.”
We all started laughing. It was time for me to head home and face the music. My dad and brother were so proud of me, my mom not so much. I think she was worried that I was spiraling out of control.
Things started to get better. I wasn't getting into any more trouble, and I was doing really well at school. It looked like I would be graduating a year early, so I was really excited about that. The remaining two months at school went by fast.
Once school was out for the summer, I was able to start working to save money for a car. I had been going to this water park since I was a kid, so why not work there and get paid to have fun? I started working nonstop. I hadn’t been writing much, but I actually felt really good. Lisa moved back home, so I got my own space back. I didn’t expect to see those friends much that summer because I just wanted to work as much as possible. I worked so much that the summer flew by, and I bought my first car!
There’s nothing like your first car. I fell in love with mine as soon as I saw her. Girls name their cars too, and her name was Butterfly. You’re probably wondering what kind of name is that. Well here’s the story behind Butterfly. Butterfly was a white 1998 Mirage. The first thing we put on her were these purple seat covers with butterflies on them. She was my way to get out when things got hard. I would get in her and just drive, no particular destination in site, and it would relax me. Butterfly was my freedom. But like the all great things, summer ended, and school began.
It was the first day back. I was officially a senior! I just knew this year was going to be great. I grew apart from my old friends but had confidence I would meet some new people this year. I was sitting in my cubical getting ready to start the last classes I needed to graduate high school, and this girl sat down next to me.
“Hey, I’m Jaci.”
I looked up at her seeing she had her hand out, so I shook it. “Hey, I’m April. You a senior?”
“Oh thank god. Yes. You must be a senior too!”
I laughed. I could already tell that this girl and I would be best friends.
“Yeah, I’m hoping to be done by Christmas. You?”
“Same.”
We had lunch together and made plans to hang out. I knew this year was going to be awesome. We met a few other people, and we have this whole group now. I don’t think I had ever been this happy. I got a job after school, so this way I could have fun without having to depend too much on my mom.
I got home from work one night; I had just pierced my ears again, so I went to the bathroom to clean my ears. I heard my mom telling my dad something, and then I heard what sounded like a slap and my mom asking what that was for. The room went red. I pushed the door to their bedroom open to see what was going on, and my dad had the audacity to stand up, in a boxer's stance no less, and try to fight me.
Everything was moving so quickly. I felt my face sting and realized he just slapped me. I just snapped because I was so mad. I started fighting with him. Cue black out! People talk about out-of-body experiences when they’re close to death, but I swear I had one. I could literally see myself fighting with my dad and then slamming him through the glass doors of the showers. My brother heard the co
mmotion and came in to pull me off of my dad. I went to my room and called Lisa because she was the only one I could think of. No answer. I called Sandra, and she sent her dad. I saw my dad walk into my room saying something, but I didn’t comprehend anything he was saying. I just saw the bottle of alcohol he had in his hand. He had me pinned against the window. I kept thinking, Okay the ground isn’t too far if he pushes me out. I’ll be hurt, but it shouldn’t kill me.
He thrust a bottle into my hand, and said, “Hit me, you hate me so hit me.” I put the bottle down on the dresser. He picked it up and slammed it on his forehead. Blood and glass flew everywhere, all over my face and clothes, and what did I do? I turned and threw up. My brother pulled my dad out of the room when I started to hear sirens getting close. I
hyperventilated. I kept seeing black spots in front of my eyes and felt like I was about to pass out.
I woke up in my bed. It was just a dream. Then I saw towels all over my floor and realized it wasn’t a nightmare; it was reality. I called my mom into the room. I needed to see what was going to happen now.
“Hey mom, so what do we do now?”
“Well he’s at your grandparent’s house. He's sober and wants to speak to you.”
“I’m only going to say this once, so listen. I don’t want anything to do with him, so I give you three options.”
She looked at me with this look of exhaustion. This had been wearing her down. I wondered just how much she put up with to keep our family together. I felt guilty; I hadn’t made it easy on her like I hoped. Yes I worked. Yes I gave her money if she needed it, but there was something going on that she had been hiding from us. I felt awful but gave her my
ultimatums anyway.
“You have a few choices. You and I can move out and away from him. You can stay, I’ll leave, and you won’t see me again. Or you can visit me in jail for killing him.”
Chapter 6
Logan We finally made it into the house, my house. For the first time it felt like home. It’s amazing how being able to trust someone can make the things around you come into perspective. It’s like taking a deep breath after you stick your head out of the water when you are trying to hold it. I finally noticed all the amazing things I had been surrounded by for the last two years. All the books that I could have occupied my time with, all the different types of art I could have studied. I felt a wave of guilt crash around me. No wonder mom had been distant. She probably thought I didn’t appreciate everything she had done for me, for us.
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