Emerge (2 page)

             
She ended up having pork n beans with the last hot dog chopped up in it with mashed potatoes.  It wasn’t much, but she ate it like it was the good stuff.  I washed the dishes while she ate convincing her that I ate a really good school lunch of spaghetti so she could have all of it
…
Even though I didn’t touch that school cafeteria junk.
Mostly it was the embarrassment of telling the lady in line that I got a “free lunch” that kept me from the cafeteria.
I had some pride, not a lot, but some.
Thankfully
, the water running while I did the dishes overpowered the growling of my
stomach.  I finished the dishes;
hers included
,
and cleaned up the kitchen.  Then I
fo
und some necessary laundry for May
and I and started a load.  She went to watch a
t.v
. show since she couldn’t watch
t.v
. all day with them.  They didn’t like to hear the kids
’
songs, they were annoying.  They were never to be inconvenienced.
  Our very presence was inconvenience enough.

             
I finished the vacuuming because it looked kinda strange to have one half clean and one half dirty.  I put the vacuum up and made sure not to disturb the carefully hidden stack of bills that m
y Mom hid from my Step-Dad in the front closet.
  It would be her fault that they weren’
t paid;
e
ven though neither one of them worked.  I shut the door
to the closet
and went to close the door to their room. 
Eeewww
Their whole room smelled like a big pack of cigarettes.  He’
d
even offered me to
smoke one when I was thirteen
but my Mom intervened.  She had been
Mrs. Cleaver that day. 

             
May
was watching
Caillou
as I did my homework
and though I had to lis
ten to the silliness
, I didn’t mind
.
She was content as she watched that
little bald kid
.
I kept all A’s in school, because I had to and because it distracted me from my life. 
I studied and paid attention in classes so that I didn’t have to think about what and who awaited me at home.  It was a win-win. 

             
May
had a bowl of Ramen
and played outside before her bath.  I made sure she was dried and in her pajamas before I went to take my shower. 
After I finished
,
I combed out my hair
, brushed my teeth
and looked into the face that my Mom hated. 
She hated the way I talked
. She hated the way I looked.  I had a round face, like a full moon and I was told that if I didn’t wear make-up I looked like “Death warmed over.”
I didn’t see that I was ugly, but I was not pretty either.
  It was awesome for my self-esteem.  Once she got some random settlement check and said she was taking me to a plastic surgeon to do something about my face.
Because she couldn’t’ stand for me to live the rest of my life ‘looking like that’.
She ended up spending that money on a get rich quick scam.
 

             
I did the best I could and brushed my wavy hair up into a ponytail.  Then I hid my bar of
soap in my closet and when I looked
, May
was fast as
leep to the tune of some kind of dragon song
.
I turned off her
t.v
., tucked her in and went to my own corner of the room.
I console
d my soul
with a book about people with supernatural powers and let it be my lullaby.
Later that night I heard the car come
into the driveway, the door
s
slam, and they piled into their bed.  Whew, one day down.

             
The next morning I woke up at 6:00 am and got ready for school.  I got the clothes out of the dryer and put them on quickly.
I was a jeans and t
-
shirt kind of girl and I didn’t care if anyone liked it
or not
.
I threw on mismatched socks and my favorite thrift store Chucks.
I put
concealer
under my eyes and powdered my face.  There, that should help with the
uglies
.  I p
ut some quick mascara on
, grabbed my backpack and headed out the door. 

             
I walked the four blocks to the bus stop.  I swear I was the only
Senior
who rode the bus.
I wasn’t allowed to get my driver’s license.
My Mom was afraid that I would pull the same pranks that she did when she was a teenager.
  But that was ok.  More time away from home.
The bus driver was an elderly lady who did not enjoy driving a bus.  Either that or that sour look was just her face.  But she was nice enough and always winked at me when I stepped up those three steps to the front seat.
The bus huffed and puffed back to life and I was officially out of my reality and into my solace. 
I took my book out of my
bag and again used it to scab over
my woes.

             
The day went pretty much the way most days went.  I listened to the teachers, took notes, said “Hi” and “Bye” to people who sat by me.
I knew people at school, but none who I would consider a friend.  I was nice and smiled and pretended as Mona Lisa did.
  Then I remembered that I had been transferred, because of a
too packed classroom, and was to
endure Drama as my English substitute class.  It was my last class of the day.  I groaned to myself in protest, and
reluctantly dragged myself
into the classroom.
AP Calculus and AP Physics, I could handle no problem, but Drama?  Gag.
Let’s face it.  I blushed sometimes when I said my own name.
 

The first person I saw was the teacher.  He was an odd one.  He had beady black eyes and the absolute worst looking comb-over I had ever seen. He had one of those pocket protectors in a plain white button down with khakis.  He hid his beady eyes behind these overly large glasses with silver rims.  He smiled at me and told me to pick any seat as he moved to greet the next student entering the class.

The windows were all open and the sun shone through the bleak classroom.
  The seats were in a circle and I picked one on
the other side of the room
.  I waited
for all of the other students to file in and find their seats.  The teacher introduced himself as Mr. Escobar and
then
dramatically introduced us to what we would be doing in Drama.
He didn’t take roll as we were responsible to come to class and we were old enough to know that.
  Of course, we would be performing a play in front of the whole school…Nice.  I looked around the classroom to gauge the impact of his anno
uncement on the other students wondering if any of them shared my sentiment about the whole thing.
One girl looked absolutely disgusted, one boy looked like he might puke and one boy…
.
flatline
. 
My lungs instantly failed me.

This boy just looked interested and int
ri
gued and was the most attractive
guy I had ever seen in my life.
  He was wearing a button down
navy
blue shirt, rolled up at the slee
ves
which revealed cut
forearm
muscles and smooth skin
.
His skin was the color of caramel and cinnamon mixed together. It was brown and red simultaneously and my fingers twitched in
admiration and want to run my fingers along its perimeters
.
On his hands was a tattoo
, which curved around
between his thumb and pointer finger.
  I couldn’
t read it, but it was writing
…a word?
  He had jeans on, ripped at the knees which at the bottom overlapped a pair of burgundy Doc Martens.
His knee was bouncing in eagerness or boredom
, I couldn’t tell
, but I yearned to find out.
 
I allowed my gaze to drift back to his face and studied his features. 
His hair was cropped short and jet black and met his forehead at the greatest widow’s peak.  He had long thick eyelashes
and a goatee which even though was black, he
ld se
veral reddish hairs which I wanted to study
closer
.
  And his lips, God those lips…They were full and soft and it was all I could do not to leave my desk and test out those waters in front of all of these strangers.

I begged my eyes to obey and look
away
before I made a fool of myself
, having no idea what the teacher had just said, but he was now holding some papers and handing them out to everyone.  Each one was highlig
hted differently.  What the heck
? 
Oh
,
crap, these are
my lines.
  I furiously turned the pages mentally calculating how much I would have to speak in this
thing.  Not bad, only about
twenty
lines.  I could do this.
I think.
  After I closed the script
,
smirking to myse
lf on my lack of lines I allowed myself to glance
back to the boy who still held my attention in the back of
my mind only to find him
smiling
at me
.

It was in that smile, this melt my heart, stop my breath, the world stopped turning and stood still on its axis smile
,
that I knew this boy would be the end of my
life as I knew it
and I welcomed the end.
Actually, I knew he would be the beginning.
His smile
reached his eyes and told me so many things.  It wasn’t a
perv
smile.  It was an “I adore you.  I’ll make you smile
,
too.  I’ll take care of you smile.” It said all of the things I had never been told.  It told me all the things I
never dared dreaming
of hearing and read about other girls hearing in books. 
The emoti
on in his eyes matched his grin
and I instantly blushed and my
brain swarmed with thoughts of belonging and safety and…love
.
 

I was snapped back to reality
by literal snapping.  The rest of the class was doing some kind of applause by snapping and I rolled my eyes at their theater culture.  I crossed and uncrossed my legs.  My blush decided to stay at full attention for the rest of the class.  It was official, I was a nut job.  I, apparently, had decided to test this theory out today.  The class seemed to last forever but when the bell rang I was disappointed.  I picked up my stuff slowly and methodically trying to time my walk out of the classroom with his.  But as I looked up in the midst of my planning, he was already gone. 

Chapter 2

After the bus stopped at my stop, I got off and walked the four blocks to my house.  By the time I got there I was drenched with sweat and regretting not wearing shorts.  I stood
on those concrete steps again, silently begging God for Mrs. Cleaver.  I twisted the door knob and repeated my ritual of “Guess who’s in the house”.  There were empty grocery bags lying lonely on the counter and the dishes were done.  My heart took a step back down to its resting place at the very sight.  I walked through the house, braver, but not really bravely, skeptically scoping the place out.  I walked through all of the rooms, the sun porch, and even the back garage
/office
, but there was no one there.  They were gone somewhere.  I just hoped they didn’t lose May or forget to feed her.

I took a quick shower and got ready for my job down at the music store.  It wasn’t a typical music store; it was a sheet music store.  It was the only sheet music store left in this city.  I grabbed my messenger bag and a black sweater as it got pretty cold in that old store.  I popped my
earbuds
in and let
Better
Than
Ezra sing me the12
blocks to my destination.
My real Dad had bought me an iPod for Christmas last year complete with an iTunes gift card.
Little did he know that it helped me keep my
sanity.

My job there
was simple.  Vacuum the carpets then
dust the furniture, clean out the practice room and re-shelve the sheet music discarded by patrons who found something bigger and better to buy. 
It was easy and I didn’t have to talk to anyone…Which meant that no one was asking me about my life.