Dating Down (10 page)

Lady Elba, Pt. II

Same red neon
open
sign.

Same triangle-sounding chimes.

Lady Elba:
sm
Ah, the Great Samantha.

Me:
sm
Ah, the Lady Elba.

She remembers me well.

I remember her words well.

Something big is on its way to your soul.

But, is
something big
, something good?

She peeks into the cards.

I seek her answers.

Cards flip, flip, flip

she tsk, tsk, tsks

then, fingernail to lips.

Is my
something big
, something bad?

Is my
something big
, someone better?

How did I end up back here

with

this illusionist?

Why did I come back

while

the cards flip, flip, flip?

once

twice

bad

nice

pausing on a woman that looks like a nun.

Great, I'm going to become a nun.

Me,

becoming a nun.

Me,

already undone.

Lady Elba:
sm
Ah, the High Priestess.

High Priestess means you have …

knowledge

secret knowledge

powerful knowledge

all-knowing knowledge.

Me:
breaking
But, what about
something big
?

Lady Elba:
sm
That, I'm afraid, has yet to surface.

surety in her eyes

uncertainty in mine

the future is a mystery

a future of uncertainty

Lady Elba:
sm
The High Priestess, you …

her hand on my heart

my head held up high

Lady Elba:
sm
… are on a journey with

The Fool.

The Fool?

Lady Elba:
sm
Yes.

I'm starting to think that …

Lady Elba:
sm
But you possess the answers …

… are stronger, braver, wiser than

you know.

Lady Elba:
sm
The Fool is your friend.

And so it is.

Part deux.

Strike two.

When will I be through searching?

I, the High Priestess, should know that much.

Surely this makes me

the Fool.

Thirty-One Head-Spinning Flavors

After, I enjoy a caramel cone as

Party Betty sneaks up.

Betty:
sm
You missed a great party.

She licks her mint chocolate chip

while wearing Jane's earrings.

They look better on her than on Queen Vanilla.

Betty:
sm
X was there …

party at the Lab …

never heard of the Lab? …

a place anybody who's anybody …

would know.

I've heard nothing from X.

My stomach

jumps
sm
leaps
sm
shoots up through my chest

my heart

thumps
sm
beats
sm
worries

What will Party Betty say next?

Betty:
sm
I thought you guys were exclusive?

Her words funnel

sm
through my ears

into my head

around my skull

down my spine

sm
between my eyes.

Me:
sm
Not really, why?

A casual lie

I did not know I was capable of.

A part of me jettisons out of my own body

replaced by the High Priestess.

April watches this tennis match.

Betty:
sm
So that explains why Jessica was all over him.

15 Betty

Me:
sm
Yeah, X mentioned her once.

15 all

Betty:
sm
Well, he was really messed up on pills …

30 Betty

Pills? Stay strong, Sam.

Me:
sm
It's not like I'm only seeing X …

30 all

I think of Ted.

Betty:
sm
And X doesn't care?

Me:
sm
Sometimes he gets jealous, but …

40 Sam

Betty:
sm
Wow. I didn't know.

She lobs a large bite of cone into her mouth

sm
game

set

match

goes to Samantha, the High Priestess.

I hide my aching heart.

Party Betty leaves.

April's in awe of my composure.

The High Priestess version of me won't play

the fool

the baby

the high school girl left behind.

Although, I go

back to my house

up to my bedroom

throw my face in my pillows

and scream.

Suspicions and Doubt

My moist

hot

breath.

My burning

wet

eyes.

The sham

muffles my rage

stifles my anger

calms me enough to

reconsider Party Betty's statements.

Just because I haven't heard from X

doesn't mean

he's out doing awful things.

Just because Betty says it was X

doesn't mean

I have to accept it.

My guy?

The one who

helps his mom make tamales

laces my sidewalk with chalk hearts

fills my ears with love songs?

Party Betty?

The one who

wears stolen diamond studs

parties with druggies

rats out her own friends?

Why should I believe her?

Why would she lie?

Maybe X can explain.

Maybe Betty's mistaken.

Perhaps there's a

sensible answer

a missed call

forgotten message

deleted text.

Perhaps there's a

reason

alibi

excuse

…

Oh,

even my heart has trouble believing

the hope.

The fact—

It has been over twenty-four hours

and no word from X.

Images

When I paint

everything seems clear
breaking
in focus.

When I blur an edge

suddenly the image
breaking
works.

If only life were that simple
.

When I finish

my final piece for RISD,

Melanie and Angie Hippo
breaking
cheer me.

Melanie:
sm
Sometimes my eyes get cloudy,

but the tears wash the sad thoughts away.

Most times, I don't even notice her.

How can she be sad, see sorrow?

People leave—

X

my mom

how my dad used to be

but Melanie's always

under foot

in my room

by my side.

Still no word from X.

It's like he's fallen off the planet.

Guilt, maybe?

Anger?

Gavin reminds me how
not-noble
X is being

says he'll always support me.

He is, after all

my go to

my Gavin.

Turns

Every brush turn

becomes my turn

U turn

Painting myself

180 degrees

away from the

me

stuffed like a cream puff

with jealousy

insecurity

obsessively

checking my phone

checking the clock

tick tock

turns out,

it's just not

me.

Tides are turning toward

me

turns out what I thought

was burning love

just might not

be so hot

embers of our spark

sm
blitzed
sm
burnt
sm
blown

out of the park

turning heads with their

flim flam

flop

into the dark.

Relying

on another to

cover me,

X's silence

smothers me

missing my mother

I discover

I'd rather be

turning away

turning a blind eye

turning my focus

to canvas

to college

to RISD

and back to me

a better me

a sister to Melanie

I can be

immediately.

Obviously,

the tables have turned.

A Sunny Sunday Morning

Like something out of a movie—

Jane makes pancakes

Dad reads the paper

Melanie sets the table

orange juice
sm
sm
sm
fresh cream butter

blueberry pancakes
sm
real maple syrup.

Have aliens replaced my family?

My stomach growls

I sit.

Maybe we're not so broken after all.

Melanie recites the alphabet

shovels up pancakes

drives them into her mouth.

Dad asks about my SAT studies.

I lie.

Unless the study guides start seeping in

while I sleep

I'm doomed to SAT failure.

I ask about the campaign.

Dad:
sm
Let's get through today. One blow at a time.

How cryptic.

Jane sighs, excuses herself, runs from the table.

Is she crying?

Melanie chokes on a giant bite.

I pound her back

and she spits out the half-chewed mass.

Hello?

Nobody notices

I've casually saved my sister's life over breakfast.

If only I could save myself that easily,

unchoke

undo

rewind

and replay

where summer went wrong.

Dad has to drive Jane to the doctor.

Miguel has to finish up the roster for the next rally.

Me:
sm
Why can't she drive herself?

I ask with what I think

is a rather innocent tone.

Dad:
sm
Can't you just help out?

He pushes his chair

storms off.

I didn't mean to …

Maybe we are broken after all.

Our perfect

delicious

sun-drenched

something Sunday special

breakfast.

How Things Were with Mom

When I was Melanie's age I used to

sit in Mom's lap

suck my middle fingers.

Dad used to yell,

You're too old for that.

You'll wreck your teeth.

Big girls don't act like babies.

All of which I ignored

sitting in Mom's lap

fat as a cat.

My High Priestess, Mom

protected me from the

pressure to grow up,

act like a big girl,

worry over crooked teeth.

When I got older, I quit

sitting on Mom's lap

being a baby

letting her protect me.

But I never got over wanting to be

near her

touch her

need her.

Her scent of

Cover Girl pressed powder

Chanel lipstick

switched to IV's

hospital beds and vomit.

The yin and yang of my mom.

My down-to-Earth
sm
sm
high-end tastes

High Priestess ways
sm
sm
mom.

Oh, to be

near her

like her

with her.

Pondering Things at the Park

While Dad's driving Jane to the doctor

I'm staring at my phone

contemplating calls

running around with Melanie

at the park.

Remembering creepy friends

fearing druggie strangers

wondering how they knew my name

at the park.

Never questioning

never doubting

never sensing a pattern

at the park.

X leaving me at

parties

music shows

his mother's

returning with

excuses

duffle bags

strange people

Why do I let him lie?

If he

knows druggies

parties with druggies

leaves me for druggies

hangs out with druggies

visits druggies

he's lying when he says he's

not a druggie.

He's a druggie

and I'm not going to be the fool.

Believe

Honestly,

I can't believe

in us.

I was a fool

painted blue

instead of canvas colors

true

to the hues needed

for the scene.

Honestly,

it's too far

where you are

I believed in you

not me,

too bad

now I see

I do

when I move on I

move away from you.

Honestly,

I feel okay

whole of me

I believe

in it all.

I've tried

Ted

dread

X's bed

there's nothing

I can't be

at RISD.

Honestly,

I believe

in me

mine, I'm

glorious

vain glorious

high school victorious

away from notorious

I'm college ready.

Honestly,

I believe

in me.

When I Visit His Apartment, Pt. II

I walk in

shutting the door behind me.

The room reeks

of takeout and tennis shoes

half-drunk bottles of Pabst Blue Ribbon

bad manners and boorishness.

Piles of books make it look like

hoarders live here.

Paper plates decay into
Jawbreaker
albums

paint crumbles off the wall

the fern rots in the windowsill.

His roommates hang out,

wave
Hi
as I step over

the banjo case.

Where's the banjo?

X leads me to his room navigating through

the wreckage saying

Nothing

like a tune from a

washed-up country ballad, the silence

saddens my heart.

At last, I've figured out

this song

this boy

the lies

even when he looks at me

in that way.

That way.

After we enter his room, he

sits on the bed

I stand next to his dresser

covered in coins and something sticky

we used to be giddy, gulping up

laissez-faire.

Me:
sm
I don't want to do this anymore.

X:
sm
Why?

Me:
sm
I'm tired of the lies.

Our eyes pour into each other

I want to melt, but I can't

see past

the dirty clothes

baggies of meth

and unmade bed

in his room.

This is it
, I think,

and I don't believe in anything anymore.