When Reason Breaks

by Cindy L. Rodriguez

  “That’s all right,” Ms. Diaz said. “Dickinson is often hard to understand. Let’s take a closer look. She says she dwells in Possibility, and then she mentions Chambers, Gambrels, and Visitors.”

  “She’s describing it like a house,” said Sarah.

  “Yes, good. Now, what is she describing like a house? Where does she dwell? Where does she live?”

  “In Possibility,” said Tommy.

  “Yes, but what is Possibility? What does it represent?”

  The class was silent for a while. Some students stared at the poem, others at their desks, hoping not to have their names called.

  “Poetry,” said Elizabeth.

  “What was that?” Ms. Diaz asked, a little surprised.

  “Poetry,” Elizabeth said louder. “She’s talking about poetry. She doesn’t go out usually, so she lives through her poetry.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “Partly because of what you said about her. Writing is what she does. It’s her Occupation—capital ‘O.’ Also, because she compares it to prose. Writing is either prose or poetry, so she’s talking about poetry. She thinks poetry is better, a fairer house; it allows her to better capture what she sees, the paradise that surrounds her.”

  The students stared at Elizabeth and Ms. Diaz, waiting for a response.

  “I’m impressed,” said Ms. Diaz.

  Elizabeth wanted to smile but didn’t let herself.

  Several students scribbled rapidly into their notebooks.

  “Wait, can you say that again?” asked Kevin.

  “No, no,” Ms. Diaz said. “I don’t want your papers to be about what Elizabeth thinks. I want to know what each of you thinks. On one of your handouts, I was kind enough to list some websites to help you analyze the poem. The one-page response must have some analysis, but the main question is personal: Where do you dwell?

  “As Elizabeth said, Dickinson lived through poetry; it’s the vehicle through which she observed the world and expressed herself. So I want to know: What is your vehicle? How do you express yourself? We all have something that helps us to make sense of this world.

  “Use the rest of the class time to start the paper. Some of you can use the computers to check out the websites. I’ll walk around to help anyone who needs it. Let’s get started.”

  For about twenty minutes, Ms. Diaz circled the room, answering questions and reading students’ developing work. When the bell rang, students packed up and filed out the door. Elizabeth lingered, obeying the note on the paper handed back to her.

  “You wanted to see me?” Elizabeth asked.

  “Yes.” Ms. Diaz smiled and sat on top of a desk. “It’s about your paper yesterday.”

  Elizabeth stared at the floor. Her heart started to beat faster.

  “You’re obviously very smart and creative,” she said, tilting her head down. Elizabeth realized Ms. Diaz was straining to establish eye contact, so she looked up. “Your comments today and the detail in your drawing yesterday were both impressive. I talked with Ms. Gilbert yesterday …”

  Elizabeth blinked hard and clenched her jaw.

  “You’re sending me to guidance?”

  “No. Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble,” said Ms. Diaz. “She told me how you often draw within your notes, that it’s a way for you to capture what’s going on in class and in your mind. That’s fine, but if you draw weapons like the bloody daggers yesterday, then I have to report it. I think you know that. I want to encourage your creativity, but we do have school rules to follow.”

  “Got it,” said Elizabeth.

  “Do you have any questions?”

  “Nope.”

  “Okay, then.” Ms. Diaz scribbled on a piece of paper. “Here’s a pass to class. See you tomorrow.”

  Elizabeth grabbed the pass, and as she strolled down the hallway, she crushed it in her fist.

  Chapter 11

  “Afraid! Of whom am I afraid?”

  Later, Emily skipped lunch, telling Abby and Sarah she had to meet with her counselor to change a class. Instead, she sneaked out a side door and tucked herself into a corner near the art wing, far enough from the cafeteria that her friends shouldn’t find her.

  Sitting on the grass, her knees pulled up to her chest, Emily’s heart pounded as she texted Kevin. She retyped the message a dozen times before she settled on: It’s over.

  Her phone buzzed seconds later.

  Kevin: WTF? Is this a joke?

  Emily: No.

  Kevin: Meet me in the drama storage room. Let’s talk.

  Emily: I can’t.

  Kevin: I deserve an explanation.

  Emily: Fine. I’m outside, near the art wing, by the bench-sculpture thing.

  Kevin: On my way.

  Emily stood and paced. Her hands turned cold, but her heart pounded. She sat on the bench-sculpture, ignoring the sign telling students not to, leaned forward, and gripped the seat so hard her fingers hurt. She wanted to appear calm when Kevin arrived, but she couldn’t stop her legs from bouncing.

  Kevin rounded the corner in a jog. Emily remained seated.

  “What’s going on?” he shouted.

  She sprang to her feet. “Be quiet,” she said and looked around.

  “No one’s here but us.”

  Kevin closed the gap between them and instinctively reached for her.

  “Don’t touch me,” she warned.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Yesterday, we made out in the storage room and hung out at your house.”

  “Right.”

  “You said you wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “Yeah, and?”

  “You did.”

  “How? What did I do?”

  “You scratched Sarah’s back in English class this morning,” said Emily.

  Kevin’s eyes widened in surprise and then scrunched in confusion. Finally, he laughed.

  “You’re joking, right?”

  Emily’s entire body clenched.

  Kevin stopped laughing. “Wait, you’re serious.”

  “You were flirting with her.”

  “I just needed a pencil.”

  Emily held her hand up to stop him from talking.

  “I know I’m not your official girlfriend, that we had decided to keep everything a secret—”

  “You decided,” he interrupted.

  “Forget it,” Emily said and started to rush past him. Kevin grabbed her elbow to stop her.

  She yanked herself free. “I said don’t touch me.”

  Kevin held his hands up. “Whoa, easy. I’m sorry. I’ll let you talk.”

  Emily zipped her silver crucifix back and forth along the chain until her breathing slowed. She patted the small cross and continued.

  “You’re right. I decided to keep us a secret. You wanted to tell everyone. You said you wouldn’t wait long, and then you flirted with one of my best friends in front of my face. You say you were asking for a pencil. I say you were sending me a clear message, a warning even, that if I didn’t tell everyone about us, you’d move on, with Sarah.”

  Kevin opened his mouth to defend himself, but Emily held her hand up again.

  “I actually felt sick to my stomach, you know that? The thought of you being with Sarah after being with me—I wanted to puke right there all over my desk.”

  Emily started to pace.

  “What was I thinking? Yo estoy tan estúpida. I avoided all this for as long as I could and then I gave in completely, with you of all people! A Romeo who was kissing me one minute and scratching Juliet’s back the next.”

  She stopped pacing and buried her face in her hands.

  “What are you talking about?” Kevin asked. “Listen, I SparkNoted Romeo and Juliet last year, so if you’re going to bring Shakespeare into this, you have to fill me in.”

  Emily dropped her hands and returned to the bench-sculpture. She reclined, resting her head on the hard edge and looking up at the sky.

  Kevin stood in front of her. “So, wh
at do you want to do?”

  “I want to rewind time. I want to go back to the way things were … before …”

  “Yeah, well, good luck with that. You can’t erase what happened, Emily, and I don’t understand why you’d want to.” He smiled at her and moved his hands up and down along the front of his body, as if to say, Who would want to forget all this?

  “Anyway, I thought you said you weren’t ashamed to be with me,” he added.

  Emily didn’t crack a smile. Her eyes remained fixed on the streaky clouds above.

  “I’m not. I don’t mean you. I mean way before you, when things weren’t so complicated,” she said.

  “I don’t see how things are complicated. We like each other and we’re together now. So what? It’s not like you’re dating Mr. Jordan. Now, that would be bad because he’s old and gross, and well, it’s a crime, so he’d be in jail and the story definitely would be all over the news. It’d go national if you were pregnant with his baby. Compared to that, our story is pretty straightforward and actually kind of boring, don’t you think?”

  Emily sat up straight and tried to think. She bent her head from side to side and rubbed a painful knot in her neck. “This isn’t funny. You don’t get it. I kept us a big secret and then lied to my friends. If I tell them now, they’ll be upset.”

  “They’ll get over it,” said Kevin.

  “Probably, but when my dad finds out I have a boyfriend, I’m dead.”

  “Wait, first you said this was about me flirting with Sarah, then it was about keeping secrets from your friends, and now it’s about your dad? Which is it? You know what, don’t answer. They’re all shitty excuses. You are way overreacting here.”

  “Maybe, but what am I supposed to do?”

  Kevin held his hand out. She reached for it, and he tugged her to her feet. Unsteady as she stood, Emily grasped his hands.

  “Listen, Em, I’m sorry about the Sarah thing. These hands will never touch her again,” he said, holding them up. “And breaking up doesn’t solve anything, unless you plan not to date anyone ever again. You’ll have to face your friends and family sooner or later, Em. Face them now, with me.”

  Tears streamed down Emily’s face.

  Kevin pulled her into a hug and held her tight.

  “Don’t cry,” he whispered.

  Emily balled her fists against Kevin’s back. Her body convulsed as she sobbed and took in everything about him: his scent, his strong arms and chest, how their bodies seemed made for each other, the way they interlocked perfectly. Why couldn’t she just let this happen? Let herself be happy with Kevin? Let herself forget about what everyone else thinks? When she regained control, she pulled away. Kevin wiped her face with his hands and kissed both of her cheeks, her eyelids, and her forehead. Finally, he kissed her softly on the lips.

  “Okay,” she whispered.

  “Okay? Really?” Kevin grinned.

  “Really, as long as …”

  Kevin interrupted her with his famous from-the-belly yell he uses to get the crowd going at basketball games. He hugged her tight again and shouted, “Emily Delgado is my girlfriend, everyone! That’s right, the two hottest people in this school are off the market!”

  Emily playfully shoved him.

  “I was about to say as long as we keep things quiet. Not secret anymore, but you know, quiet, the opposite of yelling,” she said while laughing. “We can’t make out in the halls or go anywhere near the drama storage room or get caught drinking at any more parties.”

  “Whoa, you didn’t mention all these boring rules before,” he said with a laugh.

  She moved closer and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “It won’t be boring, but I can’t do anything that will light my dad’s fuse. Promise me we’ll keep what we do as private as possible.”

  “I promise,” he said. Kevin began to fuss with her necklace, moving the clasp to the back like he did the day before. “Make a wish,” he whispered. Emily put her hand behind Kevin’s neck and pulled him to her. The world seemed to disappear while they kissed, but then they heard a familiar voice.

  “Gotcha!” Abby said, holding up her smartphone.

  Emily covered her mouth and bolted, leaving Kevin behind, holding the small silver crucifix in his hand.

  Chapter 12

  “A Secret told –”

  Kevin shouted, “Abby, knock it off!” and Sarah yelled, “Emily, wait!” But she didn’t.

  Emily bolted through the door and hustled down the hallway to the nearest girls’ bathroom. She lowered her head as she entered, not wanting anyone to notice her red, puffy eyes. Two girls she didn’t recognize passed her on their way out. They were too involved in their conversation to notice her.

  Alone in the bathroom, Emily rushed into the last stall and locked herself in. She dropped to her knees, pulled her hair back, and leaned over the bowl. Her stomach was tight and that seasick sensation floated in her head. She breathed deeply and allowed her muscles to relax. She started to feel better and knew nothing would come up.

  She slipped her backpack off her shoulders and placed it on the ground. She sat on top of it, pressing her back against the wall, and started to cry again. When the door creaked, Emily tried to stifle her sobs.

  “Are you okay in there?” the girl asked. “Not that I care, really.”

  Emily didn’t answer. The girl walked into the neighboring stall and said, “I’m going to stand on the toilet and peek over the top of the stall. I’m warning you in case, you know, you’re not decent.”

  Emily didn’t respond.

  “All right, then, I’m going to assume you’re dressed and all.”

  The girl climbed on the toilet rim, curled her fingers over the top of the stall, and popped her head over.

  “Are you okay?” Elizabeth asked.

  Emily ripped off some toilet paper and dabbed her eyes.

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  “You don’t seem fine. I can go get someone, or I could stay here with you if you want me to. I don’t mind skipping a class or two.”

  Emily smiled a little. Everyone knew Elizabeth was familiar with the detention room.

  “No, thanks. I want to be alone.”

  “Are you sure?” asked Elizabeth. “Once I told someone to leave me alone, when really I wanted him to stay.”

  The girls stared at each other for a moment.

  “Do you really want me to leave you alone?” asked Elizabeth.

  Emily wanted her to stay more than anything, but how could she spill everything to Elizabeth—a girl who flipped her off on the bus and never talked to her?

  “I’m fine. Leave me alone.”

  “Okay,” Elizabeth said. She stepped down off the toilet and left the stall. When she got close to the door, she said, “I’m leaving now,” as if to give Emily another chance.

  Emily squeezed her eyes shut and covered her mouth with both hands. Several minutes after Elizabeth left, the door opened again.

  “Emily? Are you in here?” called Sarah. “Come out, come out wherever you are.”

  Emily stayed quiet.

  “Olly olly oxen free,” Abby added.

  The phrase triggered memories of hide-and-seek, lemonade stands, and running through sprinklers, which made Emily smile a little. She stood, opened the stall door, and walked toward her friends.

  “I’m here,” she said quietly.

  Sarah and Abby hugged Emily. “Let’s go outside and talk,” said Sarah.

  Once they were seated on the grass, far away from anyone else, Emily told them everything.

  “Are you happy?” asked Sarah.

  “Yeah,” Emily said through tears.

  “Then, why are you crying?” asked Sarah.

  “I thought you’d be mad I didn’t tell you right away.”

  “Good point. You did lie when I asked you about him during the sleepover, but I’ll forgive you,” Abby said with a laugh.

  Emily and Sarah glared at Abby. Emily ripped out
blades of grass and continued, “And honestly, I was afraid you’d splatter the juicy details all over the place. That’s how I got in trouble with my dad last time. And just as Kevin’s telling me not to worry, there’s Abby, snapping away.”

  Both girls stared at Abby, who looked like a kid caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

  “Oops. My bad. I’m sorry. I’m like one of those dogs that drools whenever it hears a bell. It’s an instinctual reaction,” she said while pretending to tap out information on her phone. Emily and Sarah didn’t laugh. Abby cleared her throat. “Sorry. Trying but failing to lighten up the mood here. Okay, seriously, I’m sorry about sneaking up on you and Kevin, but, look, I didn’t do anything with the picture.” She flashed her phone at Emily. “I’ll delete it right now. And, I swear I’ll keep everything quiet from now on.”

  “Really? You’d do that for me?” Emily asked quietly.

  “Of course,” said Abby in her big-sister way. “Like I said at your house, we’ll be stealthy social ninjas. No pictures, no detailed posts. I’ll write vague stuff, like, ‘Out with friends. Having fun’ instead of ‘Out with ED and KWM. They can’t keep their hands off each other long enough to do tequila shots or hit the bong.’ How’s that?”

  “Perfect,” Emily said with a chuckle.

  “Good, now tell your caveman boyfriend to chill,” Abby said. “He knocked my cell out of my hand when you ran off. He’s lucky I have a decent case and my phone didn’t break.”

  Abby started to tap out a text message.

  “Abigail Rose Carter, what are you doing?” asked Sarah. “Didn’t you just promise to lay off the texting?”

  “Yes, I did, Sarah Jean Mason, but I’m texting the Neanderthal that we found Emily and everything’s cool,” said Abby. “That’s okay, right? I’m not tweeting about her steamy summer, although I want to. See my eye—it’s twitching because I’m restraining myself. Is this a symptom of withdrawal?”

  They all laughed again.

  “We should head back in,” said Sarah. “Lunch is almost over.”

  “I have to get myself together before I go to class,” said Emily. She returned to the last stall in the girls’ bathroom and sank to the floor again. She dug out a small makeup bag from her backpack and got to work covering up any signs of crying.