Love and Leftovers
Page 1
love
&
leftovers
a novel in verse
sarah tregay
Dedication
For high school Leftovers everywhere
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Dedication
Part One - DURHAM, NEW HAMPSHIRE
My Family’s Summerhouse
The Breakup
Long Shot
An Explanation
Lonely
Since the Breakup
Saturday at the Laundromat
Every Time Dad Calls and Mom Answers
I Want to Ask Dad Questions Too
The First Day of School
The Second Day of School
Talk about Accents
The Teachers Hate
“Martha Iris?”
I Know I Shouldn’t Put People in Boxes
Things I Left Behind in Boise, Poem 1:
Things I Left Behind in Boise, Poem 2:
Things I Left Behind in Boise, Poem 3:
Things I Left Behind in Boise, Poem 4:
Things I Left Behind in Boise, Poem 5:
Things I Left Behind in Boise, Poem 6:
When My Mother Takes an Ambien
The Worst Thing I Have Ever Done
The Best Thing Linus Ever Did
Driver’s License Daydreams
The Boat
I Don’t Like Lobster Anyway
Dominoes
Half-and-Half
Oyster River High School
The Leftover Lovers YouTube Performance #1
I Know I Like Him
A Feeling Like Falling
If Only We Could Be Together
America Runs on Dunkin’
Give Me a Break, Sam
Talking to Linus Is Depressing
BFF
HOME Is a Four-Letter Word
September 14–11:45 P.M.
Speaking of Good-Looking Guys
Thank God for Football
I Don’t Have a Dress to Wear
The Perfect Dress
J.D. Picks Me Up
Homecoming at OR
October 5–11:54 P.M.
I Close Mom’s Computer
Middle-of-the-Night Daydreams
Dinner
When I Was Little
When Dad Calls and I Answer
“You Cut Your Hair?”
Hairapy
Until
Family Hairstory
My Relatives Are Like Grapes on a Vine
Money
The Conversation
October 11–11:30 P.M.
Student Housing
A Bath at Last
I’ll Be Brief
Closing Camp
Bedtime
The Leftover Lovers YouTube Performance #2
What I Want to Do
A Package from Katie
October 27–12:02 A.M.
No One to Clink Glasses With
Katie Rants on the Phone
Regret
Frat Boys
Clothes
I Love Pizza
Motherly Advice for the Teenage Soul
Treats
Insight
My Birthday
Birthday Presents
At 3:20 That Afternoon Everyone Remembers
More Birthday Presents
Three Gifts Are in Blue-and-White Priority Mail Boxes
After Greta and Arthur Kiss Me Good Night
My Wish
After the Guests Have Gone
Kissing J.D.
Tomorrow, Tomorrow
I Inherited It
Would He Tell Me?
Procrastination
Maybe
The End
I Told My Mother
Now
The Next Best Thing to a Security Blanket
Morning
Peeking from Behind My Locker Door
I Take the Cup of Coffee
My Sweaters Arrive Parcel Post
I Open the Envelope Dad Sent
I Crumple It Up
Back to the Boxes
I Explain
Lambasted
Katie, You Don’t Understand
It Was Dumb. I Know.
What Best Friends Are For
Trapped
Home from School (Almost)
Change Is Good
I Try Making Friends
A Silent Thank-you Note
November 18–11:33 P.M.
Questions
Chasing Boys
Answering Machine Message from Linus
Baking Pies for Thanksgiving
Thanksgiving at Aunt Greta’s
Like Clockwork
Blue Cafeteria Trays
How I Learned that the Cutest Jock at OR Had a Crush
S’mores
I Don’t Know Who Started It
Writer’s Block
J.D. and I
News to Me
In the Aftermath of Operation Girlfriend Defreak
3.1 Miles of Conversation
Megan
Telling Truths
Nickname
Opportunity Knocks
Overactive Imagination
Kissing as a Recreational Sport
Answering Machine Message from Dad
Because I Love Her
Memory
Illness
At the Bagel Shop
At the Laundromat
Change of Season
Friends with Benefits
Thank God
My Mother Is Wrong
Overheard
J.D. Knows to Avoid the Potholes
“Hi, Daddy!”
My Father Wraps Me in His Long Arms
Dad Doesn’t Lecture Me
Back at Our Apartment
Funny
In the Aftermath of Operation Sedate My Mother
Protesting
Escort
How I Got to the Bottom of Things
Realization
December 22–8:32 P.M.
My Good-byes
Holidaze
Christmas Dinner
Comfort
Back to Bed
In Bed
“I Am.”
Time Well Wasted
But Before I Left
Mom’s New Car
Lobstah Feed
MapQuest Says
Part Two - BOISE, IDAHO
Danny
Home, in Daylight
I Don’t Call Linus
Dad Gives Me a Ride to School
Hello
All He Says
He Stops Kissing Me
Eating Lunch with the Leftovers
Silly Hamlet
Dress Rehearsal
The Best-Laid Plans
My World Shatters
Respect
Clarification
Confession
A Million
In the Aftermath of the End of the World
In Burst
Dad Tries to Hug Me
Why We Did What We Did
Dad’s Lecture, Part 2
Boiled Down
One More Question
Staying Home from School Because My Head Hurts
I Call Mom
After a Loop around the Park
Innocent Questions
I Can’t Believe
I’m So Stupid
A Recipe
To Cheer Me Up
Temporary Tattoos
Slumber Party Interruptus
Tearjerker
The Truth about Emily
The Truth about Danny
My Best Friend Is the Best
Then Again
Out of Habit
Driven
One Sunday Morning
Report Card
So I Make a Study Date with Katie
Outside on the Thomases’ Front Steps Katie Reveals
I Gasp
The House Is Quiet
That’s How Danny Found Me
I Tell Danny
Loner
Danny Suggested That I Try to Be Understanding
Eight Seconds Later
Eight Hours Later
When I Was in New Hampshire
My Best Friend Is Falling in Love
Mom Calls Me
Talented
Four-Letter Words
Judging from the Roar of the Crowd
The Saturday Show
Linus Looks So Cute
Midset
“The Next Song Isn’t a Cover”
After the Applause
Standing Ovation
The Auditorium Door
The First Letter I Don’t Send
P.S.
The Second Letter I Don’t Send
Period
Katie Hasn’t
I Think
The Downside of Living with Dad and Danny
Things I Threw Away
He Reminds Me
My Girl
All Week
What I’d Say to Katie
Temper Tantrum
No One Can Hurt My Heart Inside My Little Ball
I Am to Blame
Because I Want My Best Friend Back
You’re Invited
Saturday, 1:00 P.M.
Childish Games
Roller Coaster
Flame
To Love, To Family, To Friends
I’ve Changed My Mind, All I Want Is Everything
A Conversation for Adults
Revelations
Mom Plans to Come for a Visit
My Mother Always Told Me
Wishful Thinking
What My Ex-Boyfriend Doesn’t Know
On One Side
On the Other Side
Every Morning at the Bus Stop
Just Silence
Studying at Katie’s House
I Can’t Find My Blue Notebook
Today at the Bus Stop
Sitting Down
A Moment of Truth
My Notebook
The Cry of a Thousand Years
Even Though It’s Not Our Stop
Question
Rebellion
Three Choices
Over Coffee and a Cranberry Scone
Calculated
Wishing Well
“My Life Has Been a Hurricane”
Skipping School Never Sounded So Good
Skipping Stones
Tunnel of Love
In the Library!
At Zeppole
In Both of My Classes
After the Last Bell
Walking Daydreams
Worries
Notes from My Heart
What Emily Said
My Dad Comes Home
On the Way Home from Pizza
Kissing My Boyfriend
Snuggled in Bed
Dear Marcie
I Jump Out of Bed and Call Linus
On the Last Page of My Notebook
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Credits
Copyright
About the Publisher
Part One
DURHAM, NEW HAMPSHIRE
My Family’s Summerhouse
My mother
doesn’t understand
that this is a summerhouse
(meant to be lived in
only during the summer).
It is almost Labor Day.
Next week,
I’ll start my sophomore year
at Oyster River High School
in Durham, New Hampshire,
because she doesn’t have the courage
to go home
to Boise, Idaho.
The Breakup
On the first Saturday in June,
Mom and I stopped at Albertsons
to buy milk and bananas.
We bumped into Dad,
who was on his way out—
a Coke in his hand.
But Mom forgot about the
milk and bananas when
Dad introduced us
to a friend of his named Danny,
a bartender at the straight-friendly
establishment across from the opera.
Mom’s eyes narrowed
and her face hardened into granite.
Then she shot the two of them
a look hot enough
to melt flesh.
Long Shot
Mom grabbed my wrist,
pulled me across the parking lot,
and told me to get in the car.
She sank into the driver’s seat
and I watched the granite crumble
into ragged breaths and searing tears.
“What is it?” I whispered.
“I can’t believe it,” my mother said,
more to the windshield than to me.
“Seventeen goddamned years!”
(That was how long Dad and Mom had been married.)
She never did answer my question.
She did, however, start in on a blue streak
that lasted until she pulled into the driveway.
So I pieced together the information.
Dad’d been going out for drinks a lot lately.
Danny worked at a straight-friendly bar,
which was probably a nice way to say gay bar.
Dad said he and Danny were friends.
And that pissed Mom off.
Now Mom was swearing about
how long she had been married to Dad,
as if today was the last day
she’d consider herself his wife.
“Is Dad gay?” I wondered out loud, hoping
my problem-solving skills weren’t very good
and that I’d missed the mark by a thousand miles.
But Mom nodded yes.
An Explanation
My mother
took two weeks off
back in June.
I asked her
(in July)
what we were doing.
I think she meant to say, “Vacationing”
but she said, “Running away.”
Which might have been okay,
even though I thought that
if I ever ran away,
I’d do it with
a certain emo-sensitive rocker boy
and not my mother.
Lonely
The worst part of
this overextended summer vacation
is leaving
behind
a perfectly good boyfriend
with the deepest
espresso-brown eyes
a girl
could ever
get lost
in.
Since the Breakup
my mother
has transported herself
to another world.
On her planet
showers,
waking up before sunset,
matching her clothes,
and leaving the house
are optional.
Meanwhile
typing furiously,
crying constantly,
and pitting coffee against sleeping pills
for a battle over her body
are commonplace.
Sometimes
I think she needs
those antidepressants
we see in TV commercials.
But every time an ad comes on
she changes the channel.
So she needs me
making her toast,
washing her clothes,
buying her groceries,
and bringing her Kleenex.
Saturday at the Laundromat
My mother sleeps late
almost every day
because being asleep
is better than
being depressed.
On Saturday she forgets
that the fridge is empty,
our clothes are dirty,
and the towels smell
from too many dips in the bay.
So I pilfer change
from the cup holder of Dad’s car
(which Mom drove here to make him mad)
and walk three miles into town
with a pillowcase of laundry
over one shoulder.
Filling a washer
with my clothes, the towels,
and a few of Mom’s underthings,
I line up eight quarters
and slide them in all at once.
I sit outside the Laundromat
and watch the college students
walk by in UNH T-shirts,
miniskirts made from jeans,
and form-fitting sweats
with wildcats printed on the ass.
They seem dislocated—
as if they hope
that a large cappuccino,
ten pounds of art history books,
Jane Eyre, and Toni Morrison’s Song of Solomon
will help them find their way.
And looking at them,
I understand how they feel.
Lost.
Every Time Dad Calls and Mom Answers
she tells him that she doesn’t want to talk
but she doesn’t hang up.
She asks him: How? Why? When?
As I listen in on the other phone,
he tries to explain
that he felt alone
in their marriage—
that they hadn’t been
close in a long time.
Mom informs him
that he is a husband
and a father
and that maybe he should
think about the people in his life
a little more.
He says
he wants to
see his daughter
and maybe she could think
about driving his Mustang back to Boise
sometime soon.
My mother goes ballistic
shouting swearing crying
until the mechanical voice
informs us,
“If you’d like to make a call,
please hang up and dial again.”