Canary

by Rachele Alpine

  At some point Jack fought the girls off, and they left after promising me they’d come back if I wanted to talk. It was now only Jack and me.

  “Kate, come on. Open the door. I want to explain.”

  “Explain?” Fresh tears ran from my eyes. “Is there something to explain?”

  “How can you think that? What happened out there was stupid. Luke is jealous. Let me in. I want to talk with you.”

  “How do I know you’re not saying things about Brett?” I asked, my tone harsh.

  “You know I wouldn’t say something like that.”

  I wanted to talk to him, but everything had been turned upside down lately. I leaned against the door. I heard his body shift on the other side and realized we were sitting back to back.

  “Then what happened out there?” I finally asked.

  “Nothing. Luke was being an asshole. He’s trying to make me mad.”

  “But why would he say that?” I needed to know.

  “Some people know how to hurt other people, I guess.”

  “You hurt me. If what Luke said is true, you—”

  “It’s not true. I never meant to hurt you. You know that, right?”

  “It’s just . . .” I tried to find the courage to go on.

  “It’s just what?”

  “You don’t understand. I try to talk about Brett, and you never want to listen. No one cares about what I’m trying to deal with.”

  “I’m sorry. I’ll try to listen more. If that will help, I’ll do that for you.”

  “You shouldn’t have to,” I said. “You should want to.”

  I didn’t try to talk to Jack anymore. Instead, I rested my head against the door, feeling the hard wood behind it. I hoped he was telling the truth. I hoped he would try to listen more. I fell asleep in that position, too tired to try to figure out if what Luke said was a lie or the truth. I was glad Jack didn’t try to get me to come out and even more glad when, in the morning, I opened the door and he was still there, sleeping against the other side.

  www.allmytruths.com

  Today’s Truth:

  It’s easy to hide things you don’t want people to see.

  At first, it’s as if I have two faces.

  One I wear to school, around Jack, my friends, Dad, and one I have when I go home and am alone.

  My first face is the one you see in magazines like Seventeen or CosmoGirl. The smiling girl advertising clear skin products or lash-extending mascara.

  You can page through my life and see fashion pictorials that look like a normal teenage girl.

  You will see me in the pep rally spread. Photos of me helping decorate, hanging red and gold streamers from the bleachers and signs proclaiming our intended victories.

  I’m at the game, in Jack’s warm-up jersey with pom-poms in my hands as I cheer on the team.

  I’m there in Jack’s varsity jacket after the game, his arm around me as we walk out of the gym to his car. I’m smiling as people stop and congratulate Jack on a game well played.

  You can see me dancing at a house party, surrounded by basketball players and their girlfriends as we

  celebrate another win.

  I create images all around me, enough to fill pages of magazines, pretending to be as happy and normal as everyone thinks I am.

  The school year and my life move forward without stopping. But as each day starts and ends, it is harder and harder for me to keep moving with it.

  I put on my mask and wear it to school. I try to forget about the wide, dark hole that grows between Dad, Brett, and me, but it doesn’t last.

  Slowly, as the days march on, my mask starts to crack like nail polish that’s been on for days. Small bits flake off, giving people glimpses of what lies underneath, how broken I really am.

  Posted By: Your Present Self

  [Tuesday, November 27, 7:12 PM]

  Chapter 52

  All anyone talked about was the game. Conversations revolved around what team the boys were playing, who was starting, and where parties were after. I half listened to their plans and gave vague answers to questions without really hearing them. I just couldn’t concentrate.

  Brett still sat across the cafeteria with Julia, and it made me so mad that he could be happy with Julia but ignore me.

  I watched Julia during choir. She was the only one Brett would talk to, and I wanted to reach out to her, try to grab onto a piece of what she had to offer, a part of my brother who was crumbling away from me. I didn’t have any right to, not after the way I ignored her, but she was my last connection to Brett.

  I wondered how she’d reacted when Brett first told her he wanted to enlist. While Dad had forbidden it and I’d begged him not to, had she supported him? Had she let him slip through her hands when

  she was the one who could have held onto him tighter than any of us?

  I hadn’t tried to talk to Brett after we fought at school. If the two of us found ourselves in the same hallway, he’d turn and go the other way.

  The longer Brett was gone, the more things changed back to how I felt after Mom died. He might not have left for the Army yet, but the hole he’d left in our house made it seem as if he had gone far away. Life got heavy, and when I came across items of his in our house, like a piece of mail addressed to him or an old military magazine, they startled me as if they didn’t belong there.

  The days after Mom died, I had walked circles around my house touching things, reminding myself of what they were. What I was supposed to do with them. Here is my toothbrush. Here is the water; turn it on. Here is the toothpaste; unscrew the top, put it on the brush, and pull the brush across your teeth, back and forth.

  Brett’s decision to enlist had the same effect on me. I was in a world that kept moving without a single thought to the fear that now invaded my body. Brett was going into the Army, and it shocked me that it didn’t affect everyone around me. I wanted

  to talk to my friends about it, to let everyone know of his decision, of the threats and dangers, but they were too busy making plans for basketball games and weekend parties. No one even asked about him.

  Brett and Julia stood and navigated around the cafeteria tables.

  I held my breath as they neared me, hoping they’d stop to talk. “Not a word,” I said when they continued past me.

  “What?” Jenna asked. She had lined up a pack of Skittles by color and was eating them one by one.

  I grabbed a green one and tried to act normal. “Oh, sorry. It’s nothing. Just talking to myself.”

  Jenna rolled her eyes at Ali and continued to pop Skittles into her mouth.

  Ali started talking loudly. “We’ll get our nails done on Thursday, so we can have school colors for the game Friday. I think I want to have Luke’s jersey number airbrushed on.”

  “Perfect,” said Jenna. “Kate, do you need us to pick you up for the game?”

  “What?” I asked, twirling a piece of spaghetti on my fork.

  “The game. Do you need a ride?” Jenna repeated.

  “Oh, I don’t know. I haven’t even thought about it.”

  “Well, we can swing by and pick you up,” Ali said. “If you want to bring your overnight stuff, you can crash at my place after the party.”

  “Party?” I asked. “Whose party?”

  “Geez, Kate,” Jenna complained. “Pay attention.”

  “Yeah, sorry. I’m just tired,” I told her and tried to make myself focus, but I really didn’t care.

  Ali tapped me on the arm with her carrot stick. “Hello. Where have you been? Just pack your overnight stuff and we’ll get you at six thirty Friday. It’ll be simple. You won’t have to think about anything.”

  “Where have I been?” I asked, frustrated. It was as if I couldn’t do anything right for anyone. “You know what’s going on right now, Ali. I’ve got more important stuff on my mind than nails.”

  “Right. You do, but you don’t have to blow off your friends.”

  “I’m not trying to. I just have
a lot going on.”

  “If you don’t want to go on Friday . . .”

  I knew that wasn’t the answer. “No, no, I’ll be there. It sounds good.” I turned back to picking at my lunch. I was pissing everyone off lately. I thought about the fight I had with Dad the other day. He hadn’t mentioned Brett since, but there really wasn’t a chance since he was doing everything he could to avoid me. The only time I seemed to see him was if I went to watch basketball practice or a game.

  I stood up from the table. “I’m heading out.”

  Ali checked her watch. “We still have ten minutes.”

  “I know, but I want to stop at the library and check something on the computers.”

  Ali shrugged and fell back into conversation with Jenna.

  I headed out of the cafeteria. How could they act as if nothing was wrong? It seemed impossible. Because in my world, nothing felt right.

  www.allmytruths.com

  Today’s Truth:

  You have to keep moving forward or you’ll realize what you’ve left behind.

  The days after Mom died were filled with movement. People entered the house, carrying casseroles, flowers, and words of sympathy. Our bodies climbed in and out of cars, going from one place to another, where we sat and waited until we moved again. The world pushed us forward, so we didn’t have to think about what we’d left behind.

  Not until weeks after did I hear the silence. People went back home, our fridge became a mismash of rotting food, and our car sat idle in the garage because everywhere we went reminded us of her.

  I had no time to ease into Brett’s absence. He signed the papers and walked out of our house. There was no warning or grace period as with Mom.

  The silence roars around me.

  I have not been okay since Brett signed those papers and left our family.

  A cord was cut, the thin line that connected me to earth was gone, and I am now spinning, turning, twirling my way through space, into a deep midnight blue of nothing as I wait for Brett to return.

  And I worry that, like Mom, he might never come back.

  Posted By: Your Present Self

  [Wednesday, December 3, 12:31 PM]

  Chapter 53

  Our choir teacher, Mrs. Reid, gave us a free day once a month. She said we got this gift because we worked our voices so much we needed to rest them once in a while. It was a day meant for us to catch up on schoolwork, but usually people talked in small groups or watched the TV in the corner that was supposed to be used for announcements.

  Mrs. Reid didn’t do a good job fooling any of us, the boys included. She sat during these days with a cup of steaming tea, shifting positions and rubbing her eyes a lot. We knew she really wasn’t giving us a day to rest our voices but was dealing with a bad case of cramps.

  “I wish I was able to have voice rest days when I got my period,” Ali complained, surrounded by papers. She was trying to study for a test in chemistry.

  “It would be nice,” I said. “Especially since Dad freaks out when I mention anything that has to do with cramps. I’d stay home all day in my bed with junk food and my laptop.”

  Today the TV ran the latest episode of a court divorce show, the only thing everyone seemed to be able to agree on. Mrs. Reid sat at her desk and told us she had e-mails to write, but she was probably shopping online. We were on to all her tricks.

  The TV switched from the show to a commercial for the local lunchtime news. It was short, a ten-second teaser for the actual news. Most of these teasers claimed silly threats or promises: restaurant investigations where employees didn’t wash their hands or a gas station giving away gas for free. The stations usually held these segments until the end of the show, capturing the viewer and then offering little or no payoff for sticking around, the actual story something completely different. Brett and I always seemed to fall for them, no matter how many times we’d been duped.

  Today, however, the news promo was different. It didn’t offer false claims, miracles, or shocking revelations. There was nothing far-fetched about the woman who spoke solemnly on the screen: “Today on Channel 3 lunchtime news, a local soldier who headed off to war will not return.”

  It was a short statement, just one sentence, but it felt as if everyone in the room was gone and it was only me and the television. I forced myself to breathe, wishing someone would turn off the TV.

  The court show ended, and the news started. It was the lead story. “A family mourns the news that their son, twenty-year-old Ken Wilson, died in a roadside bomb explosion two days ago. Ken, who leaves behind his wife, Molly, and their eight-month-old daughter, loved his country. His mother told reporters that joining the Army had been his dream since he was little.”

  I jumped up and ran my fingers through my hair. I couldn’t listen to this anymore. I started to gather my stuff.

  “Are you okay?” Ali asked.

  “I’m fine. I just need to go to the bathroom.”

  “You’re not thinking about Brett, are you?” She’d been watching the television too. “Brett is still here. He hasn’t gone anywhere.”

  “Are you serious? You really can’t see why I’m upset?” I wanted to shake her. How could she think this was nothing? “I need to get out of here.”

  “Wait. I’ll go with you.” She closed her book and stuffed it in her bag.

  “No, don’t come.” I left the room before she could follow, not bothering to tell Mrs. Reid.

  I pushed open the door to the restroom and walked to the sink, turning on the cold water and running it over my hands. I was the only one there, so I didn’t wipe away my tears. I gripped the front of the sink, water dripping from my hands to puddle on the floor. I tried to look at myself in the mirror, but everything was blurry.

  “It’s insane, isn’t it?”

  I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand and turned.

  Julia stood holding the door to the bathroom. She let it swing shut and walked toward me. “Brett enlisting. It seems like a bad dream.”

  “Please tell me how I can wake up,” I whispered.

  “At first I didn’t believe him,” Julia said. “I thought it was a joke. He’d bring up the Army and your uncle John, and I’d just listen to his stories and nod. But then I realized he was serious.”

  “I wish you would’ve stopped him,” I said softly, even though it wasn’t fair. “I wish you would’ve said something to him so he realized what a mistake this is.”

  Julia moved to the window. It looked out over the soccer field. She slid down against the wall until she was sitting. “I tried. When I realized he was serious, I begged him over and over again not to sign

  the papers.”

  “I already lost my mom. I can’t lose Brett.”

  “I can’t lose him either.”

  I looked at Julia, and my entire body relaxed. She understood.

  Chapter 54

  I didn’t tell anyone about the conversation with Julia in the bathroom or that we’d been texting back and forth since then. She understood what no one else did.

  Instead, I tried to maintain the appearance of a perfect Beacon girlfriend.

  Tonight I blended in the eyeliner below my eyes and stepped away from the mirror to take a final look at myself. My hair was tied back with a maroon ribbon. I had on a yellow, long-sleeved shirt under Jack’s warm-up jersey, and my jeans fell over black flats. I looked full of Beacon pride, the happy fan, but inside I didn’t feel any of the excitement that had been buzzing through school all day.

  Beacon was playing another undefeated team, Brookline, and I didn’t want to go.

  I had to admit my lack of enthusiasm wasn’t just from what was going on with Brett; it was the team too. I was sick of the way Jack, Luke, and the other boys acted. It was all getting old.

  I didn’t think I could fake the pep tonight, but I had no excuse good enough to get out of going to the game.

  Ali’s brother had agreed to drive us. I watched from my living room window and saw his car pull
in. I grabbed my purse and took a deep breath, trying to prepare myself for the next couple of hours.

  It was dusk, and the quick orange glow of

  cigarettes in the backseat sparked, bursts of light like airplanes flashing in the sky.

  Jenna stuck her head out of the window and yelled, “Hey, girl, you ready for tonight?”

  I pulled open the car door. The music pounded; the air was thick with smoke twisting around the girls’ perfume. Ali and Jenna squeezed in the back along with a friend of Ali’s brother’s. Another of his friends lit up a bowl in the front seat. My stomach rolled from the mix of smells.

  I tried to find a space for myself, sitting sideways so I was able to close the door.

  “You look cute tonight,” Ali said.

  I smoothed my top. “Thanks.”

  “What do you think of my outfit? Luke finally let me wear his jersey.”

  “It looks good,” I said and tried to think of something else to say. I knew I was being lame, and Ali and Jenna would be able to see right through me if I didn’t figure out how to sound interested.

  “Yeah, I know. I might not give it back.” Ali stroked the jersey and hugged her arms around herself as if Luke was the one wearing it. “I can’t wait to watch Beaconkill Brookline. Luke’s excited about this game.”

  “Blah, blah, blah. All you talk about is Luke,” Jenna said and stuck her finger in her mouth,

  pretending to gag.

  The guy in the passenger seat held up his pipe and lighter. “Anyone want a hit?”