Chapter Five
My pulse is pounding against my temples as I climb out of bed. I’m in dire need of my own box of altoids. My entire body is dragging from hours of alternating between crying and inadequate sleep.
I make a quick pot of coffee and sit down at the bar and drink it in silence, as I dread the day that lies ahead of me.
Kel eventually comes in, wearing his pajamas and darth vader house shoes. “Morning,” he says groggily as he grabs a cup out of the sink strainer. He walks over to the coffee pot and proceeds to pour coffee into the World's Greatest Dad cup.
“What do you think you’re doing?” I ask him.
“Hey, you aren’t the only one who had a bad night.” Kel climbs onto a stool on the opposite side of the bar. “Fourth grade is rough. I had two hours of homework,” he says as he brings the cup to his mouth.
I take the coffee out of his hands and pour the contents into my own, then toss the mug into the trashcan. I walk to the refrigerator, grab a juice and place it in front of him.
Kel rolls his eyes and pokes through the hole at the top of the pouch, bringing it to his mouth. “Did you see they delivered the rest of our stuff yesterday? Mom’s van finally got here. We had to unpack the whole thing by ourselves, you know,” he says, obviously trying to guilt me.
“Go get dressed,” I say. “We’re leaving in half an hour.”
***
It begins to snow again just as I drop Kel off at school. I hope Will is right about it being gone soon. I hate the snow. I hate Michigan.
When I arrive at the school, I go straight to the administration office. Mrs. Alex is powering on her computer when she notices me and shakes her head.
“Let me guess, you want 'C' lunch now?”
I should have brought her Kel’s coffee.
“Actually, I need a list of third period electives. I want to switch classes.”
She shoots me a questioning glance. “Aren’t you in the Poetry elective with Mr. Cooper? That’s one of the more popular electives.”
“That’s the one,” I confirm. “I’d like to withdraw.”
“Well, you have until the end of the week before I submit your final schedule,” she says as she grabs a sheet and hands it to me. “Which class do you prefer?”
I look over the short list of available electives.
Botany
Russian Literature
My options are limited.
“I’ll take Russian Literature for two hundred, Alex.”
She rolls her eyes as she turns and enters the information into the computer. I guess she’s heard that one before. She hands me yet another ‘new’ new schedule, and a yellow form.
“Have Mr. Cooper sign this and bring it back to me before third period and you’ll be all set.”
“Great,” I mumble as I exit the office.
When I successfully navigate my way to Will's classroom, I’m relieved to find the door locked and the lights turned out. Seeing him again was not on my to-do list for the day, so I decide to take matters into my own hands. I reach into my backpack and retrieve a pen, press the yellow form up against the door to the classroom, and begin to forge Wills name.
"That's not a good idea.”
I spin around and see Will standing behind me with a black satchel slung across his shoulder, keys in hand. My stomach flips when I look at him. He’s wearing khaki slacks and a black shirt, tucked in at the waist. The color of his tie matches his green eyes perfectly, making them hard to look away from. He looks so, professional.
I step back as he moves past me and puts his key in the door. He enters the room and flips the light switch on as he places his satchel on the desk. I'm still standing in the doorway when he motions for me to come in.
I smack the form face up on his desk. "Well, you weren't here yet, I thought I’d spare you the trouble,” I say, defending my actions with a defensive tone.
Will picks up the form and grimaces.
“Russian Lit? That’s what you chose?”
“It was either that or Botany,” I reply evenly.
Will pulls his chair out and sits. He grabs a pen and lays the paper flat, pressing the tip of the pen on the line. He hesitates, though, and lays the pen down on the paper without signing his name.
“I thought a lot last night…about what you said yesterday,” he says. “It’s not fair of me to ask you to transfer just because it makes me uneasy. We live a hundred yards apart; our brothers are becoming best friends. If anything, this class will be good for us, help us figure out how to navigate when we’re around each other. Besides,” he says this as he pulls a paper from his satchel and shoves it forward on the desk. “You’ll obviously breeze through.”
I look at the test I had completed the day before, and it’s marked with a ‘100.'
“I don’t mind switching,” I say. “I understand where you’re coming from.”
“Thanks, but it can only get easier from here, right?”
“Right,” I lie. He’s completely wrong. Being around him every day is definitely not going to be easier. I could move back to Texas today and I’d still feel too close to him. However, I still can't come up with a good enough argument for my conscience to convince me to switch classes.
He crumples up my transfer form and chucks it toward the trash can. It misses by about two feet. I pick it up as I walk to the door and toss it in.
“I guess I’ll see you third period, Mr. Cooper.”
I see him frown out of my peripheral vision as I exit.
I feel somewhat relieved. I hated how we had left things yesterday. Even though I would do whatever it took to rectify the awkward situation we’re in, he still somehow finds a way to put me at ease.
“What happened to you yesterday?” Eddie says as we enter second period. “Get lost again?”
“Yeah, sorry about that. Issues with admin.”
“You should have texted,” she teases in a sarcastic tone. “I was worried about you.”
“Oh, I’m sorry dear."
“Dear? You tryin’ to steal my girl?” A guy I have yet to meet puts his arm around Eddie and kisses her on the cheek.
“Layken, this is Gavin,” she says. “Gavin, this is Layken, your competition."
Gavin has blonde hair almost identical to Eddies except in length. They could pass for brother and sister, although his eyes are a chestnut compared to her blues. He is wearing a black hoodie and jeans, and when he moves his arm from Eddie’s shoulder to shake my hand, I notice a tattoo of a heart on his wrist…the same as Eddie’s.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says as he extends his hand.
I eye him curiously, wondering what he could have possibly heard.
“Not really,” he admits, smiling. “I haven’t heard anything at all about you. That’s usually just what people say when they’re introduced.”
He turns toward Eddie and gives her another peck on the cheek. “I’ll see you next period Babe. I’ve got to get to class.”
I envy them.
Mr. Hanushek enters the room and announces there's a chapter test. I don’t object when he hands me a test and we spend the rest of the class period in silence.
***
As I follow Eddie through the crowd of students, my stomach is in knots. I’m already regretting not having switched to Russian Literature. How either of us thought this would help make things easier, I don’t know.
We arrive in Will’s class and he's holding the door open, greeting the students as they arrive.
“Mr. Cooper, you look a little better today. Need a mint?” Eddie says as she walks to her seat.
Javi walks in and glares at Will as he slides into his seat.
“Alright everyone,” Will says as he shuts the door behind him. “Good efforts on the test yesterday. Elements of Poetry is a pretty mundane section so I know you’re all glad to have it out of the way. I think you’ll find the performance section more interesting, which is what we'll focus on the rest of this semester.
“Performance Poetry resembles traditional poetry, but with an added element; the actual performance.”
“Performance?” Javi asks, disdained. “You mean like in that movie about the dead poets? Where they had to read crap in front of the whole class?”
“Not exactly,” Will says. “That’s just poetry.”
“He means slamming,” Gavin adds. “Like they do down at Club N9NE on Thursdays.”
“What’s slamming?” a girl inquires from the back of the room.
Gavin turns toward her, “It’s awesome! Eddie and I go sometimes. You have to see it to really get it,” he adds.
“That’s one form of it,” Will says. “Has anyone else ever been to a slam?”
A couple of other students raise their hand. I don’t.
"Mr. Cooper, show them. Do one of yours," Gavin says.
I can see the hesitation in Will's face. I know from experience he doesn’t like being put on the spot.
"I'll tell you what. We'll make a deal. If I do one of my pieces, everyone has to agree to go to at least one slam this semester at Club N9NE."
No one objects. I'd like to object, but that would require raising my hand and speaking. So, I don't object.
"No objections? Alright, then. I'll do a short one I wrote. Remember, slam poetry is about the poetry and the performance."
Will stands in the front of the room and faces the students. He shakes his arms out and stretches his neck left and right in an attempt to relax himself. When he clears his throat, it's not the kind of throat clearing people do when they're nervous; it's the kind they do right before they yell.
Expectations, evaluations, internal evasions
Fly out of me like puddles of blood from a wound
A fetus from the womb of a corpse in a tomb
Withered and strewn like red sheets on the bed
Of an immaculate room.
I can't breathe,
I can't win,
From this indelible position I'm in
It controls the only piece of my unfortunate soul
Left to fend for itself in this hollowed out hole
That I dug from within, like a prisoner in
An unlocked cell sitting in the deepest pits of hell
Unencumbered he's not in his sweltering spot
He could open the door 'cause he don't need a damn key
But then again,
Why would he?
Circumlocution is his revolution.
The silence in the room is deafening. No one speaks, no one moves, no one claps. We are in awe. I am in awe. How does he expect me to transition if he keeps doing things like this?
"There you go," he says matter-of-factly as he walks back to his seat. The rest of the class period is spent talking about slam poetry. I try hard to follow along as he goes into further explanation, but the entire time I’m simply focused on the fact that he hasn’t made eye contact with me. Not even once.
***
I claim my seat next to Eddie at lunch as we set our trays down. I notice a guy that sits a couple of rows behind me in Will’s class walking toward us. He is balancing two trays with his left arm, and his back pack and a bag of chips in the right. He positions himself in the seat across from me and proceeds to combine the food onto one tray. When that task is complete, he pulls a two-liter of coke out of his backpack and places it in front of him, unscrewing the lid and drinking directly from it. As he is chugging the soda, he looks at me and places it back down on the table, wiping his mouth.
“You gonna drink that chocolate milk, New Girl?”
I nod. “That’s why I got it."
“What about that roll? You gonna eat that roll?”
“Got the roll for a reason, too.”
He shrugs and reaches across to Gavin’s tray and takes his roll just as Gavin turns around and swipes at his hand, a moment too late.
“Dude, Nick! There’s no way you’re gaining ten pounds by Friday. Give it up!” Gavin yells.
“Nine,” Nick corrects him with a mouthful of bread.
Eddie takes her roll and throws it across the table. Nick catches it midair and gives her a wink. “Your girl has faith in me,” Nick says to Gavin.
“He lifts weights,” Eddie is directing her comment to me. “He’s got to be nine pounds heavier by Friday to compete in his weight class, and it’s not looking good.”
With that, I grab my roll and toss it on Nick’s tray. He winks at me as he dips it in a mound of butter.
I’m thankful to Eddie for accepting me into her group of friends so easily. Not that I had a decision, it was done pretty forcibly. In Texas there were twenty-one people in my entire senior class. I had friends, but with such a limited pool to choose from I never really considered any of them to be my best friend. I mostly hung out with my friend Kerris, but I haven’t even spoken to her since the move. From what I’ve seen of Eddie so far, she’s intriguing enough that I can’t help but hope we become closer.
“So, how long have you and Gavin been dating?” I ask her.
“Sophomore Year. I hit him with my car.” She looks at him and smiles. “It was love at first swipe.”
“What about you?” she asks. “You got a boyfriend?”
I wish I could tell her about Will. I want to tell her about how when we met, I immediately felt something I have never felt about a guy before. I want to tell her about our first date and how the entire night seemed like we had known each other for years. I want to tell her about his poetry, our kiss, everything. Most of all though, I want to tell her about seeing him in the hallway when we realized our fate was not our own to decide. I want to tell her how much I am hurting, knowing I can’t talk to him. But I know I can’t. I can't tell anyone. So I don’t. I simply reply, “No.”
“Really? No boyfriend? Well, we can fix that,” she says.
“No need. It’s not broken.”
Eddie laughs and turns to Gavin, discussing possible suitors for her new, lonely friend.
***
The end of the school week finally arrives and I have never felt more relieved to pull out of a parking lot in my entire life. Even though he lives across the street from me, I feel less vulnerable when I’m inside my house than I do two feet from him in a classroom. He successfully achieved an entire week of absolutely no eye contact. Not saying I didn’t do my best to catch even a glimpse in my direction, I practically stared him down.
I plan to tell my mother everything that happened. I just haven't found the right time yet. She's been leaving for work before dinner every night so we really haven't had a chance to talk about Will.
During the drive home, I make a detour to better formulate my plan to spend the entire weekend indoors. It’s called movies and junk food.
Mom is sitting at the bar in the kitchen when I walk through the front door. I can see by the stern look on her face that she isn’t particularly happy to see me. I walk into the kitchen and lay the movies and bags of junk food on the counter in front of her.
“I’m spending the weekend with Johnny Depp,” I say, attempting to appear oblivious to her demeanor.
She doesn't smile.
“I took Caulder home from school today,” she says. "He mentioned something very interesting.”
“Oh, yeah? You sound sick Mom. Do you have a cold?” I try to sound nonchalant, but I can tell by the tone in her voice that what she’s really trying to say is, "I found out something from your little brother’s friend that I should have found out from you."
“Anything you want to tell me?” she asks, staring daggers through me.
I sip from a bottle of water and take a seat at the bar. I had planned on talking to her about everything tonight but it looks like it’s going to happen sooner rather than later.
“Mom. I was going to talk to you about it. I swear.”
“He’s a teacher at your school, Lake!” She starts coughing and grabs at a kleenex as she gets up from the bar. After she regains her composure, she lowers her voice as she continues speaking in an attempt to avoid garnering attention from the nine-year-olds that are somewhere within our vicinity. “Don’t you think that’s something you should have mentioned before I allowed you out of the house with him?"
“I didn’t know! He didn’t know!” I say in an overly defensive tone.
She cocks her head to the side and rolls her eyes as though I’ve insulted her.
“What are you doing, Lake? Don’t you realize he's raising his little brother? This can ruin his-”
Both of our eyes dart to the front door as we hear Will’s car pull into his driveway. I quickly head to the front door in an attempt to block it so she'll let me explain. She beats me to it so I follow her outside, pleading.
“Mom, please. Just let me explain everything. Please.”
She is walking up Will’s driveway when he notices us bombarding him. He smiles when he first notices my mother, but his smile fades when he sees I’m right behind her. He has surmised that this is not a friendly visit.
“Julia, please. Can we go inside to talk about this?”
She doesn’t respond, she just marches toward his front door and lets herself in.
Will looks at me questioningly.
“Your brother mentioned you were a teacher. I haven’t had a chance to explain anything to her,” I say. He sighs as we make our way inside.
It’s the first time I’ve been inside his home since I found out about the death of his parents. Nothing has changed, yet at the same time everything has changed. That first day when I sat at his bar, I assumed that everything in the house belonged to his parents; that Will’s situation was not unlike my own. Now when I take in my surroundings, it sheds a different light on him. A light of responsibility. Maturity.
My mother is sitting stiffly on the sofa. Will walks quietly across the room and sits on the edge of the couch across from her. He leans forward and clasps his hands in front of him, his elbows resting on his knees.
“I’ll explain everything.” He says this with a serious, respectful tone to his voice.
“I know you will,” she replies evenly.
“Basically, what it boils down to is that I made a lot of assumptions. I thought she was older. She seemed older. Once she told me she was eighteen, I guess I assumed she was in college. It's only September, most students aren't eighteen when they start their senior year.”
“Most of them. She’s only been eighteen for two weeks."
“Yeah, I…I realize that now,” he stutters, shooting a look in my direction.
“She wasn’t attending school the first week you guys moved in, so I guess I just assumed. Somehow the topic never came up while we were together.”
My mother starts to cough again. Will and I wait, but the coughing intensifies and she stands and takes a few deep breaths. I would think she's having a panic attack if I didn’t already know she was coming down with something. Will goes to the kitchen and comes back with a glass of water. She takes a sip and turns toward the living room window that faces the front yard. Caulder and Kel are outside now, I can hear them laughing. My mother walks to the front door and opens it.
"Kel, Caulder! Don't lay in the street!" She coughs again as she closes the door and turns toward us.
“Tell me, when did the topic come up?” she asks, looking at both of us now.
I can't answer her. Somehow in the presence of the two of them, I feel small. Two adults hashing it out in front of the children. That's what this feels like.
“We didn't find out until she showed up in my class,” Will replies.
My mother looks at me and her jaw gapes open. “You’re in his class?” She looks at Will and repeats what she said. “She’s in your class?”
God it sounds really bad coming from her mouth. She stands up and paces the length of the living room as both Will and I allow her time to process.
“You're telling me that both of you deny having any knowledge of this prior to the first day of school?”
We both nod in agreement.
“Well what the hell happens now?” she asks. She has both of her hands on her hips. Will and I are silent, hoping she can magically come up with the solution that we’ve both been searching for all week.
“Well, Lake and I are doing our best to work through this a day at a time,” he finally replies.
She glares at him accusingly. “Lake? You call her Lake?”
Will looks down at the floor and clears his throat.
My mother sighs and takes a seat next to Will on the sofa. “Both of you need to accept the severity of this situation. I know my daughter, and my daughter likes you, Will. A lot. If you share even a fraction of those feelings, you will do whatever you can to distance yourself from her. That includes ditching the nicknames. This will jeopardize your career, and her reputation.” She stands up and walks to the front door, holding it open for me to follow her out. She wasn’t allowing us the opportunity for any private time.
Kel and Caulder brush past us as they run into Caulder's bedroom. Mom's eyes follow after them as she gazes down the hallway that the two boys just ran through.
"Kel and Caulder don't need to be affected by this," she says as she brings her attention back to Will. "I suggest we work something out now so that the contact between you and my Lake can be minimized."
"Absolutely. I completely agree," he says.
"I sleep in the mornings. If you want to take them to school, Lake or I will pick them up after school. Where they go from there can be up to them. They seem to do pretty well going back and forth."
"That sounds good. Thank you."
"He's a good kid, Will."
"Really, Julia. It's all fine with me. I haven’t seen Caulder this happy in a …” Will’s voice trails off and he doesn’t finish his sentence.
“Julia?” he asks. “Will you be talking to the school about this? I mean, I completely understand if that’s what you need to do. I would just like to be prepared, beforehand.”
She looks at him, then at me and holds her stare as she speaks. “There’s nothing currently going on that I would need to inform them about, is there?”
“Not at all. I swear,” I quickly reply. I want Will to look at me so he can see the apology in my eyes, but he doesn't. As soon as he shuts his front door behind us, I can’t hold my tongue any longer.
“Why would you do that?” I yell. “You didn’t even give me the opportunity to explain!” I dart across the street and don't look back at her as I run into the house and into the solitude of my bedroom where I will remain until she's left for work.
***
“Layken, do we have any packets of Kool-Aid?” Kel is standing in the entryway, covered in snow slush.
It’s not the oddest thing he’s ever asked me for, so I don’t question him as I grab a package of grape out of the kitchen cabinet and take it to him.
“Not purple, we need red,” he commands. I grab the purple package from his hands and return with a red one.
“Thanks!”
I close the door behind him and grab a towel and lay it down on the tile of the entryway. It’s not even nine in the morning and already Kel and Caulder have been outside in the snow for over two hours.
I take a seat at the bar and finish my cup of coffee, staring at the pile of junk food that I’m no longer excited about eating. My mother got home around seven-thirty this morning and climbed into bed where she’ll stay until around two o’clock. I’m still angry with her and don’t feel like confronting the situation at all today, so it looks like I have about five more hours before I’ll lock myself in my bedroom again. I grab a movie off the bar and, despite my lack of appetite, a bag of chocolate. If there is any man who can take my mind off of Will, it’s definitely Johnny Depp.
Halfway through my movie, Kel comes bounding in the house, still covered in snow and slush as he grabs my hand and starts to pull me outside.
“Kel, stop. I’m not going outside!” I snap.
“Please? Just for a minute. You have to see the snowman we made.”
“Fine. Let me get some shoes on at least.”
I put my shoes on and Kel grabs my hand again and pulls me out the door. I continue to allow Kel to pull me along as I shield my eyes. It’s taking them a moment to adjust to the suns reflection on the snow.
“It’s right over here,” I hear Caulder saying, but not to me. I look up to see Caulder handling his brother in the same way that Kel is handling me. We are both led to the rear of the jeep where they position us inches apart, directly in front of a casualty.
I now know the purpose behind the demand for red Kool-Aid. In front of us, lying flat on the ground beneath the rear of my jeep, is a dead snowman. His eyes are small pieces of twig, shaped into a grim expression. His arms are two thin branches lying at his side, one of them broken in half under my rear tire. His head and neck are sprinkled with a trail of red Kool-Aid that leads to a pool of bright red snow about a foot down from the snowman.
“He was in a terrible accident,” Kel says seriously before he and Caulder break out into a fit of giggles.
Will and I look at one another, and for the first time in a week, he smiles at me.
“Wow, I need my camera,” he says.
"I’ll grab mine,” I say as I head back inside.
So this is what it’s going to be like from now on? Conversing under false pretenses in front of our brothers, avoiding each other in public? I hate the transition.
When I return with the camera, the boys are still admiring the murder scene as I snap a couple of pictures.
“Kel, let’s kill a snowman with Will’s car now,” Caulder says before they dart across the street.
The tension is thick as Will and I stare excessively at the snowman in front of us, not knowing what else to look at. He eventually glances toward his house at our brothers.
“They’re lucky to have each other you know,” he says quietly.
I analyze this sentence and wonder if it has a deeper meaning, or if he was simply just making an observation.
“Yeah, they are,” I agree.
We both stand there watching them gather more snow when he takes a deep breath and stretches his arms out above his head.
“Well, I better get back inside,” he says. He turns away.
“Will, wait.” He swings back around and puts his hands in his pockets, but doesn’t say anything.
“I’m sorry about yesterday. About my mom,” I say as I stare at the ground between us. I can't look him in the eye for two reasons. One, the snow is still blinding me; two, it hurts for me to look at him.
“It’s fine, Layken.”
And we’re back to the official first name.
He stares at the ground where the ‘blood’ has tinted the snow and he kicks at it with his shoe. “She’s just doing her job as a mom, you know.” Sadness spreads across his face as he speaks. “Don’t be so mad at her. You’re lucky to have her.”
He spins and walks back to his house. Guilt overcomes me as I think of what it's like for them to just have each other, and here I sit complaining about the only parent left between the four of us. I feel ashamed for bringing it up. I feel more ashamed having even been mad at my mother for what she did. It was my fault for not talking to her about it sooner. Will is right, as usual. I am lucky to have her.
***
The shower in my mother’s bedroom is running after lunch, so I heat up some leftovers and make her a glass of tea. I place them at her usual seat at the bar and wait for her. When she finally emerges from the hallway and sees the food, she gives me a slight smile and takes her seat.
“Is this a peace offering or did you poison my food?” she asks as she unfolds a napkin into her lap.
“I guess you’ll have to eat it first to find out.”
She eyes me cautiously and takes a bite of her food. She chews for a minute and takes another bite after she fails to keel over.
“I’m sorry, Mom. I should have talked to you about it sooner. I was just really upset.”
She looks at me with pity in her eyes so I turn away from her and busy my hands with the dishes.
“Lake, I know how much you like him, I do. I like him too. But like I said yesterday, this can’t happen. You have to promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
“I swear, Mom. He’s made it clear he wants nothing to do with me, so you don’t have anything to worry about.”
“I hope not,” she says as she continues to eat.
I finish up the dishes and return to the living room to continue my affair with Johnny.
6.
“Your heart says not again
What kind of mess have you got me in?
But when the feeling's there
It can lift you up and take you anywhere.”
-The Avett Brothers, Living of Love