by Marisa Calin
I take a falsely confident step toward school and the wave of fear I experience cements my decision to hide behind the gate until everyone has started to move inside. We stand side by side in silence as the figures flock through the doors into school. I take a deep breath, and we make our move. Despite everything, it looks like you’ve decided to try to make me laugh. You’re crouching beside the wall and have signaled, spy style, that you’ll move out first. Sure enough, imaginary gun drawn, you’ve just darted through the gate and disappeared. After a moment, you appear around the wall and beckon me to follow, taking cover behind one of the big maples. With my life at an end, good luck getting even a smile out of me. But I have to make it through the day somehow so I reach you at the tree and we peer around it to see the crowd at the door thinning. You’re standing straight as an arrow against the tree and you tug me behind it when I stray. I carefully take the two fingers that you were using for pretend firepower and press them to my temple. You frown and brush them gently against my cheek instead but just for a heartbeat. We stand quite still, without speaking, as if spy rules prohibit it. I think for a minute you might say something about this mess but then you look toward school and motion the all clear.
SCHOOL HALLWAY. TEN MINUTES LATER.
We’re running the gauntlet. There was no way to avoid the hallways without going into class late, and then everyone would really stare. So far, it’s like my fitful dreams—people staring with varying degrees of subtlety—and someone just whistled! Even my nightmares didn’t account for whistling. Now completely unable to pretend it’s my imagination, I panic and want to run. You sense my flight instinct and catch me by the arm so I can’t. Thanks to you, I make it to homeroom with tingling fingers and no blood below the elbow but without the added humiliation of being the girl who ran through school.
HOMEROOM. SOON AFTER.
I’m curled in a chair in homeroom. First period starts any minute but I can’t bring myself to go. I shouldn’t have come to school at all. You kneel down in front of me.
YOU
Hey, Phyre Hazard. Don’t let them bring you down.
I stare. You start to stand with fake resignation—at least I hope it’s fake.
Well, hey, you gave it your best! Nice knowing you. Let me know if you need help crawling into a hole.
Even crawling into a hole does sound effortful right now. I grab hold of your sleeve and you meet my eyes with all the sensitivity you have left.
ME
That’d be great.
As I follow you out of the room, I remember that we have Mia second period. I’m not sure if that’s a good thing or not but if I can talk to her maybe I’ll stay sane.
MIA’S CLASSROOM. SECOND PERIOD.
I’m sitting with my eyes on the door. Mia’s not here yet and every moment I’m an easy target. I’ve moved to a seat at the back of class so I can’t feel the eyes like lasers burning holes in my back. No one has said anything yet—their looks say enough. The door opens. Mrs. Keen! It’s Mrs. Keen with a stack of papers. I almost stand up and yell at her to leave. Where’s Mia?
MRS. KEEN
Settle down, everyone. I’m covering this morning, so you can use this as a reading period. Miss Quin says there’s plenty to do.
I shift in my chair, feeling heat rush to my face. I can’t begin to read, I’ll go crazy. That hole is sounding better and better. I see you looking at me and wait for the blood to stop rushing through my temples before I meet your gaze. There isn’t much you can do from where you are; I have to survive this by myself. I take shallow breaths. I can make it through this day.
LUNCH.
To make that just a tad more difficult, earlier I saw someone who I don’t even know open a text message and look directly at me. I didn’t stick around long enough to find out why but, as I’m walking down the hall at lunch, I pass a gaggle of girls and get a pretty good impression over a ninth grader’s shoulder. There’s the picture, smaller, thank God, but recognizable, being sent around cell phones. The bravest kind of bullying! Pressing buttons and never even looking the person in the eye. I’d rather it still be like kindergarten, so when someone snatches something from you, you can thump them and then burst into tears. Even on a one-inch screen I can see the picture all too clearly. Terrific. My reputation as the crazy-infatuation girl is taking shape. Ryan catches my eye across the hallway, a corner of his mouth turning up as if to say Ah, that explains it! If I were any closer, I’d hit him.
FRONT STEPS. AFTER SCHOOL.
Finally, finally, the end is in sight. I bolt out of biology to find you waiting at the steps. All the air inside me is just bursting to escape. You’re standing beside your bike, which I didn’t see this morning. Looks like you knew I would need a quick getaway. Relieved, and feeling the threat of tears swelling in my throat, I climb onto the crossbar and tuck up my knees.
YOU
Ready?
More people are streaming from the front doors of school and I call to you as if you’re a mile away.
ME
Go!
We pull away and from the first turn I know where you’re taking me. The weather has darkened and heavy clouds have blackened the sky. The trees meet overhead, making a tunnel of this stretch of road. On sunny days there is perfect dappled light but today even the weather knows to be bleak and heavy. I plead with myself not to take the easy road—to deny it, to shout from the rooftops that it isn’t true that I care about Mia, just to be the same as everyone else. I can be brave. Feeling the wind against my face, I’m saved by the shadows of the trees. I feel you behind me, standing up, pressing into the pedals as we climb uphill. You power us forward, the dimness getting thicker and thicker as we leave town behind us. We come out of the trees, and when we reach the top of the hill, you stop, barely out of breath. I jump down. Here, at the highest point for miles, where it is always blustery and no one can hear me, I cry into the wind. And it’s not pretty-girl crying. We stand side by side. You take my hand and hold tight, as if I’m hanging from a bridge and you’re all that’s holding me up.
MY KITCHEN. LATER.
Mom is at the sink, washing a teacup when I come in. I blink in the light.
MOM
Phy, hon, you okay?
ME
Mm-hmm.
I’m spectacularly unconvincing. I feel the prickle of tears again and even though I’m grateful she always notices when something’s wrong, I head for my room.
MOM
Sit down for a minute. Can I tell you a secret?
I turn back and flop down at the kitchen table. Mom comes over and scoots a chair in beside me.
MOM
Before I was your mother, I was a teenager.
I smile for the first time today.
ME
Ha-ha!
MOM
Strange but true. When things went wrong, it felt like the world would end. But it never did. Now, I can’t even remember what those things were. It doesn’t make whatever this is less upsetting, but trust me that someday you’ll have a new perspective. It’s only as important as you let it be.
She smiles and I love her for trying.
There was this guy I liked in school. He asked me to the dance, and I was thrilled—spent hours picturing every moment. That night, he kissed my best friend, Sophie Vargas. She was gorgeous but already had a date and it seems he just needed an in.
ME
Oh, Mom!
She nods and all of a sudden I can see her at my age.
I thought you said you couldn’t remember any of those things!
MOM
So, there are some you never forget. But I survived, didn’t I?
As she gets up, I realize that she helped me think about something else for thirty seconds. And yet I’m quite sure that this is one I’ll never forget.
THE NEXT DAY. (THREE HOURS OF SLEEP LATER.)
We pass Mia’s room first thing. I have an overwhelming desire to see her. Her door is open a crack and there is a sliver
of sun across the hallway. There are voices. Two, and I’d know hers anywhere. Thank God she’s here today. I press my face to the crack to see what’s happening. Mia is standing behind her desk. The second voice is the department head. Footsteps come toward me, bringing her imposing shadow closer, and the door pushes shut. The sun’s gone. Mia is in trouble and it’s my fault.
SCHOOL SWIMMING POOL. FIRST BREAK.
If yesterday felt slow, this morning seemed to stop. Finally, I’m here waiting for a rehearsal with Mia. I’m terrified that she won’t show up or that she’ll be somehow changed.
Relief courses through my body as I see her round the corner. From here she has her usual serene expression, so not everything can be different. She smiles as she reaches me and, despite everything, I feel the same as always when I look at her.
POOLSIDE. SOON AFTER.
In my bathing suit, clutching my towel around me, I’m staring into the still, green-blue water, semi-naked in front of the one person who has turned my world upside down—not feeling remotely vulnerable or anything! I kneel down to feel the water and gaze at the rippling shape of my reflection. Mia appears beside me. We still haven’t really spoken, I can’t find the courage. I slip into the deep end of the pool and cling to the side. When I look up at her, this, for some reason, strikes me as the last moment I can bear to leave everything unsaid.
ME
Did you see it?
MIA
See what?
I feel so small beneath her. She kneels at the side of the pool in front of me.
ME
The picture!
MIA
Yes, I saw that.
Her tone is still calm.
But Phy—
She holds on to my forearms, looking into my troubled eyes.
Try not to care so much what people think.
Not care? Ha! I blink.
ME
And you’re not in trouble?
MIA
Why would I be in trouble?
This makes sense to me now. I struggle to make sense of the rest of my jumbled thoughts.
ME
When you weren’t here yesterday …
MIA
Oh … I had an interview … I’ve got a new full-time teaching position for next semester.
She is clearly minimizing her excitement for my sake. I swallow.
ME
That’s great.
For a moment everything seems so normal, except for me. I feel like I’ve been spinning out of control all by myself. I press my face against my arm and take a breath.
MIA
Ready?
Pushing away from the wall, I nod and sink into the water. Opening my eyes and looking up at the surface, I see Mia’s outline, kneeling at the side and shimmering. I sink deeper, feeling the pressure increase and wondering how I possibly got to this point. I swim away along the bottom of the pool and back. My lungs are bursting but I would stay down here forever if I could. After another thirty seconds, I start rising to the surface against my will. Mia reaches into the water and brings me gently into the air, supporting my chin on the surface. I float there. She smiles.
MIA
Yes, I think you’re ready.
SCHOOL LIBRARY. BREAK. THE NEXT DAY.
I’m hiding: sitting at the window and watching people collect in the courtyard below—still avoiding public places. Silence sounds louder in a big room because it echoes back at you. I rest my forehead against my hand as the sun comes out and casts a long window-shaped shadow across the table in front of me. It’s strangely peaceful. Looking down, I notice Cara’s face, amid a group of people, turned up to my window and I meet her gaze. Almost immediately she disappears from sight. I’m not surprised to see her at the top of the library stairs moments later. She makes no effort to be quiet.
CARA
Hey, rock star. Why are you hiding up here?
ME
You didn’t see the site?
CARA
Are you kidding? Sure I did. I’d be out there taking a bow.
This is a genuinely befuddling moment.
ME
Why?
CARA
You scored a hottie. So what’s the problem?
She is so matter-of-fact I almost can’t help agreeing. I don’t even see the need to set her straight.
But sure, be like everyone else. See if I care.
She smiles and, for the first time since all this happened, I actually do feel normal. She turns toward the door.
CARA
Are you coming?
I hesitate, glancing out the window at the pack of people.
Come on. They’re probably just jealous. And you can’t stay in here forever.
ME
I figured I could at least sit here until this class graduates.
CARA
You’d get hungry.
She smiles again. Perspective. I think of Mia and everything I’m hiding from. Sitting here isn’t going to solve any of it. I push back my chair—the screech deafening in the silence—and I follow Cara out into the sun.
SCHOOL COURTYARD. MINUTES LATER.
Cara gives my arm a reassuring squeeze and I cross the courtyard toward you. I am a sitting duck, the bobbing downy underside before it gets swallowed by a crocodile, leaving a single floating feather on the surface of the water. Grace looks over. Her eyeliner today is almost raccoon-like.
GRACE
Hey, Phyre. You didn’t mind about the picture, did you?
Me? Mind? No!
We were just messing around.
And it was hysterical! I bite my lip and smile, as she seems halfway genuine. She babbles on, then rests her forearm on my shoulder. I cover my surprise with a sound a horse might make. I consider pretending to go with this, to play at being jovial as if the whole thing has amused me, but I don’t see why I should pretend that it’s all fine. I stand as casually as I know how for about thirty seconds, and then I press a decisive fist to your arm and start toward the door. We walk.
As we reach the hallway, you break into a smile, a partial celebration of my survival and, partly, I can tell, residual amusement at the sounds I make when under pressure. You used to name them: angry hippo, confused parrot. This time, I let it slide. You’re one of the few people I let laugh at me, and only sometimes! Hands in my pockets, chin to my chest, I peer at you. You let yourself look happy for the first time today. After a minute, your focus shifts past me to the wall, and I look too. It’s a poster for the play; they’re pinned up all around school. It looks like a 1950s movie poster, my silhouette in profile, and the caption: Will she recognize true love before it’s too late?
YOU
Looks good!
You smile.
You look good.
I smile.
ME
Thanks.
We stand in silence for another moment and I realize how lucky I am to have someone I can be myself around, in all my melancholy glory. The bell goes. I sigh.
Well, gotta get my books for class.
YOU
Okeydoke!
This time, my smile trumps my impulse to cringe. Despite all this, you made me smile. And here in the hallway, tired of this seriousness, everything suddenly strikes me as funny.
ME
Okeydoke!
Pathetically funny but it’s a relief to laugh, and I do. Helplessly, for the first time in days. I laugh so much I have tears running down my face, till my stomach hurts and I’m gasping for air. You laugh too but instead of your laughter being tinged with hysteria, it’s tinged with sympathy. You give me a hug.
YOU
Hey, you want help with the swimming-pool scene for the play? We could practice on the weekend.
ME
Sure.
And as we walk, I feel almost upbeat.