Emerge

by Lila Felix

  “Well, I did some homework and cleaned up and did some laundry.”

  He laughed again. “Yeah, I probably should do laundry too.”

  I replied, “Well, if I don’t do it then no one does. But I’ve done it for years, so it’s no biggie.”

  He paused a little too long. “You don’t live with your parents?”

  “Yeah, I do, but I kinda have to take care of myself.”

  “Oh…” He sounded…Worried? Concerned?

  “So, how long do you work every day?”

  He explained and the rest of our first conversation was easy and familiar.

  I didn’t realize how long we had talked and then he let out an enormously long breath and said “I don’t want to, but I have to go back to work. I will see you tomorrow, ok?”

  “Um, yeah, ok.” I didn’t want to hang up.

  “Ok, well, bye.”

  “Yeah, ok, bye.”

  I hung up first. He needed to get back to work and I didn’t want to be the reason he got in trouble.

  I know it was just a phone conversation, but I felt like I knew some things about him that no one else did…Like we had secrets. I put the phone back where it belonged and danced the twirly ballet of a girl who had just talked to the boy she adored. I was no ballerina, but I twirled and twirled.

  Chapter 7

  I woke up the next morning in the greatest mood. I was still by myself in the house and I got up and took the time to make myself a grape Pop Tart in the toaster. High class breakfast. I dressed in a pair of ratty jeans and a black and white striped Henley and my black garage sale Mary Jane’s. I braided my hair over the side of my face even though I swore I would wear it down every day because he said it looked pretty. Who am I kidding? I hardly ever wore my hair down. I wore my usual minimum make-up and glided to the bus stop. Nothing in the world could bring me down from this. Nothing.

  The day went by and as I made my way, in a haze, through the halls between third and fourth periods, I saw him walking down the hall. I pretended to look straight ahead, determined not to be that girl that came unglued at the very sight of him. But in my peripheral I spotted him and he had spotted me. He didn’t say anything as he passed; the hallways were two ‘moos’ away from a cattle drive in between classes. Instead, he reached out his finger and ran it down my arm as slowly as he could while never missing a beat. I gasped as that simple touch caused pins and needles to crawl up my arm and spread through my body. I turned my head quickly around to verify what had just happened and he was glancing back at me too. He was smiling the smile of “Ha! I got you to blush!” It was true and that small gesture and the heat that proceeded lasted me through until the coveted sixth period arrived.

  Leaving fifth period in and of itself caused my blush to come to full attention. I turned and situated my messenger bag across my chest and began to walk towards my destination. As I crossed campus and passed by the English building someone took pace with me and then I knew who it was. I pursed my lips together to keep from smiling like a serial killer clown.

  Fingertips teased and taunted mine, playing my fingertips like the keys of a piano. Then he nudged my shoulder with his, trying to get my attention. Little did he know that he had my attention every single second and his playful gesture caused warm tingles to spread up my arm and throughout my body. I looked over at him and he had a different smile. It was a new smile. It was a smile that conveyed my thoughts to a T. We had a secret that no one else knew. And I had a secret of my own…I wasn’t willing to admit it in words, but it was there nonetheless. The thought itself shocked me like a bolt of lightning. It was too fast and it didn’t make sense and I hardly knew what loving someone was. I chastised myself for being a fool. But I knew what love wasn’t and I knew how love didn’t act and things that love didn’t do and I knew how his very presence made me feel.

  We reached the theater and he held the theater doors open for me. I smiled bashfully at his gesture and as I walked in he placed his hand on the small of my back and caressed it gently, testing out the waters. I turned slightly and looked at him over my shoulder as the door closed and slightly nodded giving my permission. As we walked towards the class, who were all perched in various positions on the stage, I caught Anna’s eye and knew by the way she was covering her smile with her hand that she knew what was going on. We walked, Carlos still behind me up the small stairs towards the stage and plopped down next to each other. I’m sure Mr. Escobar was talking about something really interesting, but what it was I knew not. I caught the end of his pep talk and heard how we were ready and it was going to be great. We were to spend the rest of the class studying our lines and after that we could do what we wanted to do.

  When I got up Carlos was talking to that Wimbledon head bobbing guy and I made my way into the audience seats towards the middle on stage left. Students had made small groups all around studying their lines, or pretending to. And that is exactly what I was doing. As I entered the row to take a seat, my shoes made a ridiculous noise as they were sticking with every step. Theaters are always sticky. I decided on the third seat in as to not bring any more attention to me and my sticky steps. I pulled out my script and wrapped it around the outside of my trusty paperback. The wolf-man’s mate had been kidnapped and I needed to know more. About ten minutes later the seat next to me was pushed down by a hand with cinnamon skin and he sat down slowly, like he was gauging whether or not he was welcome. I put my head back against the seat and turned towards him and smiled, hoping that would give him the answer he needed.

  “You don’t have your script,” I said. “You’re not very good at fooling the teacher.”

  He laughed and responded, “I’m not trying to. He said we could do what we wanted to if we already knew our lines. What I want to do is talk to you.”

  All I could muster up was, “Oh.”

  He looked around the room. I didn’t know if he was bored or thinking of something to say. All of the sudden my cowardly lion got courage.

  “I enjoyed talking to you last night.” He leaned his head back and mimicked me by turning his head towards mine.

  He agreed with a whisper. “Yeah, me, too. Are you gonna be home tonight?”

  Was he still nervous around me? Didn’t he know what I would give to talk to him again?

  “I have to work from 4-6:30, but I should be home after that. You go on break at 7, right?”

  He smiled and said, “No, I’m off today and tomorrow.”

  I was happy about that not because he would call me but because again today he looked absolutely spent, like he was running on fumes. I found myself caring whether or not he was working too much and glad that he was going to get to rest.

  “That’s good. You…well…you look tired.”

  He smiled that gorgeous smile. “Is that your way of telling me I look like crap?”

  I jolted up and words just started coming out of my mouth. It probably sounded like a rabid squirrel but I couldn’t let him think that.

  “No, that’s not what I meant. I mean you must be tired going to school all day and working all night. And I would be exhausted and sometimes you just look like you’re tired. You don’t look bad, the opposite in fact. I mean you know you’re…you know…look at you. But I just meant that I know you must not get much sleep and..”

  I was stopped and shocked into a state of calm when his hand suddenly enveloped mine with the briefest of moments. I pleaded with him in my mind. Don’t stop. Don’t let go.

  “It’s fine. I was just kidding. You should’ve seen your face.”

  I flounced back in my seat and groaned in defeat. But he soon went back to his serious face.

  “And yeah…I do get tired. Sometimes it seems like I can’t go another minute but I have to. So, what about you? Where do you work?”

  We talked for the rest of the period about work, parents, school, and everything in between. The time flew and before I knew it the rest of the class was filing out towards the door.

  “W
e better go. They lock the theater up in the afternoons,” he said.

  He read my mind. I was tempted to stay here all day.

  “Yeah…I guess we better.”

  I made my feet move after we had left the theater towards the bus and I looked back to say goodbye and he was right behind me. Our bodies brushed together as I turned and every part of my body became an erogenous zone all at once. I let out a yelp that could best be described as Minnie Mouse watching a horror movie.

  He tried to mask his laughter by clearing his throat and said, “You forgot your bag.”

  I rolled my eyes at my own ignorance and he stepped closer to me and placed the strap onto my shoulder. He was so dang close. That was the first time I really noticed the way he smelled. The scent was all male and it was like Aspen trees and cinnamon mixed together. Oh, to camp in that forest. That was the best description I could come up with. I inhaled it as deeply as I could, trying to make that smell permanently stick to the inside of my nose. I closed my eyes momentarily and let the sensation overwhelm me. His face was inches from mine…Inches. He had a peppermint in his mouth and I could smell it as he spoke to me.

  “Can I take you home?” he asked as his eyes never left mine.

  I panicked a little at the thought of my nut-jobs, I mean parents, being home, but then remembered they were still gone.

  “You don’t mind?” He grinned and tipped his head forward so that our foreheads met.

  “Of course not.” He shook his head a little as if exasperated with me.

  “Come on.”

  He took my bag back and piled it on his shoulder on top of his own and nodded his head towards the student parking lot and I followed like my life depended on it.

  We arrived at his car. It was an older model Honda Civic and it was sky blue. I wasn’t a car person so to me it was a Mercedes and anything that had wheels was better than what I had. I glanced inside and to my disappointment it was a manual. So much for holding his hand on the way home. He must’ve seen my face and came to the wrong conclusion as he unlocked and opened the passenger door for me.

  “I know, it’s not much, but she gets me where I want to go.”

  ` I corrected my face and replied, “No, it’s not that, it’s just…well…ugh, nevermind. It’s not that at all. It’s great.”

  He huffed a breath of laughter out of his nose and made sure I was inside before he shut the door behind me. He walked around the hood of the car and I took in his image as he did. He walked with confidence and humility at the same time. He took the time to look quickly at his tires as he carouseled the car. He got in the driver’s side and put our bags in the back seat before starting the car up and began to back out. I gave him a very general direction as to how to get to my house and he nodded and began our journey. The car did his bidding dutifully and without complaint. I forced my gaze out of the passenger’s window not wanting to stare him down like the stalker that I was. We drove for a few minutes in silence and at the first stop light he stopped the car slowly and then reached out to tug on my hand, but he didn’t let go.

  “Hey, you awake?” he said trying to provoke me.

  “Yeah, I’m just enjoying the ride. I should be asking you how you are still awake.”

  I can’t believe I just said that. What a dork. Somebody needs to tattoo Super Dork on my face.

  He nodded and answered, “Nah, I’m good. I wouldn’t miss a minute of this.” The light changed to green and he growled. “I had to have a stick shift right?” and was forced to let go of my hand.

  It wasn’t just me who wanted to be touching him. If touching me had even one eighth of the effect on him as it had on me then he felt the warmth, the craving, the need, the consumption. No wonder he was cursing the stick shift. I was, too.

  15 minutes later I was guiding him with my pointer finger through Santa Monica to get to my house. He remarked that he came this way often when he wasn’t working, headed to the nearby mall and movie theater. He pulled next to the curb by my house and I sat there starting at the house, not wanting to leave him yet. It was as if I was on the border of two different countries and in those countries I was two different people. In one country was my parents, my oppression, my pain, my introverted self all wrapped up in poverty and worry over the Terrible Twosome and their unrelenting roller coaster of anger.

  In my current country I was still introverted, but there was hope. He was my hope and it made me want to emerge from my present self and adhere my being and my life to him; embracing the life he gave me hope that I could have.

  He pulled me out of my inflection and said, “Looks like nobody’s home. Are you gonna be ok?”

  I snorted and said, “Yeah, I’m by myself a lot. It’s no big deal, really. But thanks.”

  He let out a breath with a little too much force and rubbed his buzz cut head crown to forehead.

  “When are they coming home?” he asked.

  I fidgeted with my jeans… “Um, maybe tomorrow, maybe the next day. Who knows? They went to visit my Aunt in Las Vegas.”

  He looked angry now and I didn’t know where it was directed.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “Parents just suck sometimes, you know? It’s dangerous for a girl to be home alone all the time.”

  He was wearing the vinyl off of the steering wheel, rubbing it in aggravation and I tried to bring him back down.

  “It’s ok, really. I’ve been on my own a lot since I was about twelve or so. I know to lock the doors and I don’t go out at night unless I have to work. It’s ok. Don’t be mad, I’m a big girl.” I laughed nervously.

  He smiled, too, but it was just to appease me. I understood his anger as it was shared between us but I didn’t want to spend my time with him angry at my parents. They stole enough of my joy and my life already.

  He put his head on the steering wheel and looked like he was trying to reel in his frustration. “You’re right. I just…never mind.”

  He righted himself in the seat and removed his seat belt.

  “Come on, I’ll walk you to the door.” I reached back and grabbed my bag from the seat and went to open my door but he was there already opening it for me.

  “Thanks,” I whispered.

  We walked the short distance up the corroded driveway up to those crumbling concrete steps. I reached for my keys in the front pocket of my bag and unlocked the door, embarrassed by the force it took to get it open.

  I turned to him, “Thanks for bringing me home. Saved me from inhaling bus fumes.” I was trying to lighten the mood again, but my jokes were lame.

  “It’s no problem, J.” His new nickname for me did not go unnoticed.

  “Anytime I don’t work after school I would…”

  He rocked back and forth on the heels of his Doc Martens.

  “I would be happy to bring you home every day if I could.”

  I smiled at him and reached out to tentatively touch a button on his shirt. He quietly gasped and I said, “Thank you,” again.

  He cleared his throat and stepped back two steps.

  “Ok, can I still call you tonight?”

  “No,” I said with the most serious face I could muster.

  “You have gone over your Jenna quota for the day. You are dismissed.”

  He laughed out loud, louder than I’ve ever heard before, and it was the most glorious sound I had ever heard.

  I laughed in return and he said, “You need to up my limits then, because I’m planning on meeting my Jenna quota every day I can.”

  Leaving me melting on my porch steps he turned and got in his car, started it and then motioned me with a smile and a waving hand to go in the house.

  I complied and when I had shut the door he put his car into gear and sped away. I collapsed against the old broken backdoor with the duct tape window and sat there for a half an hour just smiling like my world was complete. I buried my eyes into the palms of my hands and finally admitted to myself the truth. “I love him, even if he doesn’t
love me. Loving him is enough.”

  Chapter 8

  I went through my routine of work, homework and a Ramen noodle soup dinner. We didn’t confirm what time he would call, but I was a ball of nervous, excited energy. I showered and took up temporary residence by the phone. Yeah, I’ve progressed passed moron and onto obsessive, sit by the phone and wait moron. Nice. I lost myself in a new book about a boy who was an Ace trying to find his significant other. I was entranced by it. So much so that when the phone rang I threw the book in the air and then had to “Air Raid” until I made sure it wasn’t going to impale me. It plunked on the floor beside me and I picked it up and marked my page with a bookmark. I checked the caller id and it was a local number, the same number as the night before. I took a deep breath and put my hands out in front of my palms down pushing downward trying to move the nervousness away. It didn’t work.

  “Hello,” I said it so cool. I was getting good at this.

  “Hey you,” he said.

  OK, never mind…he was the epitome of cool.

  He continued, “What are you doing?”

  “Um, I was reading.” I really needed to work on not saying ‘um’.

  He groaned, “I hate reading. When I have to read a book for school I read the beginning and then the end and guess about the rest.”

  I laughed and answered, “Well, reading is my crack.”

  He laughed, “Ahhh, well, good to know.”

  All of the sudden my brave girl surfaced and I started, “Can I ask you a question?”

  He chuckled and answered, “Of course, J, ask me anything.”

  I cleared my throat and asked “When I first came to Drama class and told you that I had been transferred there you said that made things easier for you. What did you mean by that?”

  He was quiet way too long and I glanced at the caller id and saw that the call was still active.

  “I um….well…I saw you last semester. You were walking between the Administration building and the Commons Area and ever since then I’ve been trying to find you again. I saw you once through the gate. You were walking towards the bus stop and I walked around the fence but it was too late, you were boarding the bus. So, what I meant was… you being in Drama was easier for me than trying to chase you around all the time.”