Through Indigo's Eyes (11 page)

I didn't answer John, and silence hung around us like an uninvited guest.

John spoke first. “Well, I guess everyone is entitled to their own opinion.” He shrugged, turned away, and stared at the drab beige cafeteria wall, deep in thought. I kept silent and continued swinging my legs. Then the bell rang.

“Time for class.” I slid off the table. “Hey, you want to meet for lunch?” I blurted out.

“I can't,” he mumbled, quickly looking away. “I've got something I have to do.”

“Okay,” I replied, trying to sound cool. “No big deal.”

Crushed, I didn't go to my first class and instead went outside for a smoke. A brisk wind smacked me in the face, until I rounded the corner that led to the little concrete area beside the school that was designated as the smoking pad. It was sheltered from the wind. Kids milled about, red sparks sizzling like strobe lights. As soon as I entered, I saw Sarah, Zoe, and Carly, so I made my way over to them. I had started hanging out with Sarah shortly after grade ten, when Lacey made varsity volleyball. Through Sarah I had met Zoe and Carly. Lacey and I were clearly on different paths. Lacey had never smoked a cigarette in her life.

Lacey. I'm so sorry.

You did the right thing, Indie
. The soft, kind man's voice poked through my thoughts.

“Hey, Indie.” Sarah waved her hand in front my eyes, snapping her fingers to get my attention.

“Hey.” I pulled out my cigarettes, thankful for the distraction. Smoking gave me something to do with my hands, took me outside of my head and away from the voices. I sparked my cigarette on Sarah's and inhaled. When I exhaled, I let the smoke out in one slow, steady stream. Mindless. Numbing. I listened to everyone talk about school, teachers, good bands, bad bands, new songs, old songs, while my mind chattered about other things.

Lacey hated me; John had rejected me.

I had seen a ghost at school.

I wanted to go home.

And do what? Lie on my bed? Listen to music? And think about how I was totally messing things up on a daily basis? I couldn't stop thinking about John. His saying no to meeting for lunch had really hurt. But maybe he really did have something to do.

Or maybe he just doesn't like you.

“Indie, we seriously should get our band going again,” said Sarah, using her hands to talk. “Remember, we talked about it the other night at the party?”

“Ha ha,” I said. “I wasn't sure if you'd remember.”

“I wasn't that drunk. Not like someone else I know.” Sarah hip-checked me.

I laughed. “I'm in,” I said. Unexpected excitement spread through my body. To be back playing music in our band would be awesome. I had loved hashing over what songs we would do, then searching for the music, listening to it, memorizing the lyrics, and rehearsing. This was exactly what I needed. It would take my mind off John. I stubbed out my cigarette.

“Me too,” said Carly. She too had excitement in her voice. “I just got a new keyboard.”

“Count me in, too,” exclaimed Zoe.

“Why don't we meet at Denny's after school today—the one in South Keys?” Sarah asked. “We can talk about songs and stuff like that. Get organized. I got a new drum set for my b-day last year. You're still playing your guitar, eh, Indie?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“You still writing poetry, too? Maybe we could try some original songs.”

“I guess we could try,” I said, flattered that they thought I could write a song. “That would be pretty cool to create our own song! We could jam to figure out the tune.”

Sarah, Zoe, and Carly all put up their hands for high fives. Then Sarah said, “Denny's it is for a meeting of the minds.”

I high-fived everyone back. I was planning on heading to a bookstore anyway to try to buy a new book for John, seeing as I'd destroyed the one he'd lent me, and there was a bookstore close to Denny's, so this was perfect.

“I'm going early ‘cause I don't have last block,” said Sarah.

“I'd skip, but I got a test.”

“Just meet us in there. In the smoking section.”

I nodded. Then the bell rang. I walked back into school just as the halls started to fill with students. My fingers were frozen, so I shoved them in the pockets of my jacket. At least I had something to do after school and with my time.

As I walked to my class, I passed Lacey, and when I saw the hollowness circling her eyes, a pain flamed in my chest. My lungs burned so badly that I had to stop walking to lean against the wall. Hurt seeped through my skin to my bones, and my chest felt as if a rubber band were tightening around it. Lacey had this way of walking tall with her chin up and shoulders square, but I could see through that. Her heart was broken.

I had just gotten back into step to get to class when I saw Burke approaching from the other side of the hall. Was he going to blast me? Embarrass me in front of everyone? Had Lacey told him? He passed, smiled, said hi, and kept moving.

Thank you, Lacey.

All day I kept looking up and down the halls in search of John, but when school ended, I hadn't seen him again. Had he skipped? My heart burned in pain, and something crazy invaded my limbs: numbness, heaviness, sadness. Why did I get these overwhelming feelings of sadness all the time?

I headed to the bus stop to go to the mall. As soon as I got there, I saw Nathan Carroll huddled off to the side, standing alone as usual. He was teased mercilessly for being small and nerdy and having pimples and braces. I always felt for him. He didn't deserve to be the butt of everyone's jokes; it wasn't fair. I walked up to him.

“Hi, Nathan,” I said.

“Hi, Indie.” He glanced at me, then quickly looked away again.

“Do you usually take this bus?” I asked, wanting to make conversation.

He hunched his shoulders. “Yeah. I live close to the mall.”

I nodded. The bus approached, and we both moved to board. Then out of nowhere, a big brute of a guy pushed by Nathan, making him stumble. I grabbed his arm to help him keep his balance. “Come on,” I whispered. “Let's sit together.”

Once we were seated, he looked out the window, then turned to me and said, “I hate this weather. It's so gloomy.” He turtled his head into the collar of his jacket.

I laughed to make him feel more at ease. “I like the gray and the dark,” I said.

“You do?” He frowned.

“Yeah, I do.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets. “That's kind of funny, because to me you are like a butterfly, light and free to fly in the summer sun from bush to bush. I'd think you would like the sun.”

I laughed at his comment. “Me? A butterfly? You're funny, Nathan.”

He laughed along with me, the metal in his teeth gleaming, and I could see a spark of happiness in his eyes, which made me feel lighter as well.

“I like the gray, because sun all the time is kind of boring,” I said. “Don't ya think? I bet even butterflies like the gray. It's like life. Some days are light, and some days are really dark.”

Nathan stopped smiling and lowered his head. “I have dark days all the time, so I guess that's why I like the sun so much. Just makes me feel a little better.”

“Life can't be that bad,” I said.

He glanced at me. “It's not that good.” Then he brightened a bit. “Well, not at school anyway. But it's better when I'm sitting with you on the bus!”

I nudged him with my shoulder. “I read the weather forecast, and tomorrow is supposed to be sunny.”

He grinned. “Good.”

As we chatted for a few more minutes, I felt lighter and freer because Nathan was happy. It was funny how my moods were so dependent on others.

Nathan's stop was two before the mall.

“Thanks, Indie,” he said as he stood to get off.

When he looked at me, I thought he might cry—and not tears of sorrow, but more of happiness, because someone had been nice to him. I didn't understand why people thought it was fun to hurt others. It made no sense.

Had I hurt Lacey? That is the last thing I want to do.

I lifted my hand and gave a little wave. Within seconds, he was out the bus door. I slid down in my seat, thinking about Lacey. Then my thoughts veered like a car making a sharp turn, and I thought about John and the man in the hallway. I tapped my fingers on my thigh, over and over, waiting for my stop, my thoughts streaming through my mind.

Who
was
he?

Finally, the bus stopped, and I stood to get off. My legs were heavy, and I felt like I'd walked uphill for an hour. Over the years, I'd been tested for mono at least five times, but the results were always negative. I was tired for no reason. My energy was so crazy. One minute I felt great and light, and the next I felt as if I weighed a million pounds.

As I walked to Denny's, something nagged at me, made me feel uneasy, so I hurried. I turned to look behind me. No one was following. What was wrong now? It was broad daylight, and not a single person was walking behind me.

When I was close to the door, a sudden throb hit my forehead, nearly making me gasp for air. I looked behind me again and still saw nothing. There was no one nearby.

Relax, Indie. Breathe.

I rushed so I could get to the table, meet my friends, have a cigarette, and stop this insanity. Sometimes with people around me, I could push all this internal stuff aside.

Suddenly, I started thinking about a flight home from California, a year ago, when out of the blue, I had heard my cousin's name. I remembered how I had felt on that day—I was feeling the same way now.

I had been on an airplane, staring out the little window at the clouds floating like gauzy mist. Brian wasn't with us, because he had to work. As I watched the clouds, my mind went blank, white. Then, I had heard the word
Curtis
loud and clear. I sat forward and blinked. I had a cousin named Curtis. For the past five years, he'd had so many drug problems, and everyone in the family worried about him.

Once we landed, we got our bags and then picked up our car. I sat in the backseat feeling uneasy. Something wasn't right.

In the backseat of the car, I had swung my legs back and forth as I stared out the window, until my mother yelled at me from the front, telling me to stop kicking her seat. When we arrived home, my head pounded. Brian met us at the front door, his face red and blotchy from tears. He
never
cried.

“Curtis is dead,” he sobbed. “Overdosed.”

What was wrong with me? I had to stop thinking about all of this. I was going to meet my friends. I started running.

This isn't close to the same, Indie. You are imagining everything.

But it is, Indie, it is. Remember the feelings. That's your job.

By the time I saw Sarah waving at me from a table way in the back, my breathing was coming out in pants, like I'd just finished phys-ed class and the run test. Ignoring the hostess who usually seated people, I hurried down the aisle to get to the booth where Sarah, Carly, and Zoe sat.

Sarah laughed when she saw me. “Did you run here?”

“Nah, I just walk fast.” I sat down beside her and tossed my backpack on the floor. Then I immediately took out my cigarettes.

I lit up, inhaling deeply.
Relax. Relax.
The smoke somehow stopped my thoughts from getting out of control and numbed my body so panic couldn't set in.

“So, we've been talking about our band,” said Sarah. “We should have a rehearsal soon. And then once we get good enough, we could find somewhere to play.”

“Like a real concert?” I asked. “We need a lot of practice before we play in front of people. But, wow, that would be so cool.”

“We could do some type of fund-raiser.” Carly tapped her fingers on the table.

My mind went blank, then I saw a dog, and he had the saddest eyes. The vision disappeared like a puff of cigarette smoke. “Animal shelter,” I said. “We could do something for stray dogs and cats. They often have events, and maybe we could play at one of them and help them raise money!”