Capricious (3 page)

Nose pinched against

The faint smell

Of failure and fear

Largely invisible

To a world where my existence

Was still mostly irrelevant.

Take a guess which

Possibility

Came true.

CLASSMATE

David eats his lunch with me

Thank God

Because I'm not sure anyone else

Would be game.

Samir watches warily

But when I catch him staring

He grins

A sly, slow grin.

As the rest of the school

Stumbles around us

Mind-numbed by sugar

And factoids

And desperation

Crawling, clawing

Creeping upward or sliding downward

On the popularity scale.

David eats his lunch with me

Even though he must know

That in my company

The only way is down.

GIRLS

Sarah

Who I called “Puffy Blond”

But only to myself

Whose mom drove me to the hospital

On Christmas Day

And listened when I defended Samir

From a terrible accusation

Sarah, who is probably a nice person

Under it all

Sarah

Ignores me.

Genie

Who was Sarah's best friend

Before she defaced a painting

With unforgivable slurs

And blamed Samir

She is a vengeful manipulator

Not to be trusted

Genie

Has amassed a new entourage.

Sarah and Genie

Have divvied up our year

Into two lip-glossed militias

Hair-sprayed armies

Who occupy the halls

In a fragile cold war

And they all blame me.

Me

Who eschews the politics

Of girlhood

I tiptoe around them

Avoiding their minefields

And roadside bombs

I'm a pacifist

And a bit of a coward

I

Would rather not take sides.

ESSAY DRILL

It's the usual waste of time

The usual crime of taking teenage brains

And putting them in chains

We should be in our creative prime

Instead we're dwindling and unwinding

Grinding our ideas into fine dust

Letting them rust in five neat piles

With encouraging smiles

You keep telling us we must

Think of college, sink all our knowledge

Into this one stupid essay,
S-A

S-A-T
, are you satisfied?

Half my classmates have anxiety

Or are stupefied by pharmaceuticals

Or destined for cubicles

It is often said that our struggles teach us the most
Discuss.

If this were true, half the kids here

Would be geniuses

Because in this bubble they struggle

With every trouble the other kids have

Only double

Can't read, can't write

Can't avoid a fight

And then there are kids who can't walk

Or talk

Can't dress themselves, not even a sock

Kids who drink, who can't think

Forget about swimming; with them

It's sink or sink.

PERSPECTIVE

I know it's wrong

To think of Marika this way

Ms. Sagal's silent daughter

Her odd contorted posture

Frail, unpredictable arms.

I know the photo I took of her

Last year,
Disabled

Was supposed to be ironic.

Because one word

Could never sum her up.

Her laugh is infectious

Her silence is mesmerizing

Her art blows my mind.

Wild swirls and fractured words

Like Basquiat.

The other girls look at her

With mournful eyes

And patronizing smiles.

She smiles back

The multitudes of Marika

But once, I'm pretty sure

She winked at me.

Sometimes I think

I should have her problems

Her “struggles”

Could teach me a thing or two.

DAD

Dad asks me

Predictably

How was your first day?

One-syllable answers

Should be enough.

Fine, I say

Chill

Dull.

The multi-syllables

Terrifying

Solitary

Meaningless

Discouraging

Soul destroying

No different

From last year.

A hotbed of

Temptation

Irritation

Oppression

Subjugation

Perplexity

And despair

I keep to myself.

Chapter Two

Unmasked

RAIN

Wet snow turns to rain

Melts the white icing away

Revealing gray roads.

This spring, so unlike

The frayed-edge coastal seasons,

Is bold, harsh and quick.

I never thought it

Possible that I'd ever

Grow to love winter.

But spring here explodes

With gleeful celebration

Green, fresh and fertile.

RELIEF

Speaking of fertility

My body gives me a break for once.

My period started,

I whisper to Samir

Before art class.

Alhamdulillah,
he replies

Eyes turned upward

And we both laugh at the irony.

What's so funny?

David says

Trailing into class after us.

Your haircut
, Samir says.

I frown at him

But David just shakes his head

Fake laughing.

Hilarious, Sam
, he says

You should have a
TV
show
.

And Samir flips him off

Then makes a game

Of picking invisible bugs

From my hair

As an excuse to touch me

Until David says

Why don't you get some manners?

And Samir says

Why don't you get a personality?

And I say

Why don't you both

Just get your dicks out

And measure them?

Only I say it so loud

The whole class hears.

And Genie says

Are you planning another artwork?

Penises this time?

And Ms. Sagal frowns

Before gently reminding us

The phallus is a popular theme

In modern art

But for now

Let's keep it
PG.

INK

Ink

Black lines

The shape of

David's hand

Strong

And open

Like a bed

I could curl into

His fingers

Soft

And safe

His hand stained

With black

Ink.

PROCRASTINATION

The truth is

Samir and I

Have gone through that box of condoms

Since the incident on the stairs

And I'm still no closer

To altering David's friendship

Into something more.

The truth is

I'm

Afraid

Of

Losing

Him.

The truth is

When I say

“Losing him”

I'm not sure

Which “him”

I mean.

The truth is

Part of me

Wants to run away

From both of them

Before they can

Hurt me again.

The truth is

In the dark

Of my room

Their outlined hands

Pinned to my wall

Look like claws.

The truth is

What I say

About not wanting

To be normal

Is not actually

The truth.

SPRING FLING

Kayli twirls

In the vintage pink chiffon dress

It's a twirlish dress
, she says

Tugging at the high neck.

Don't twirl too much, I say

Or the boys will see your underwear.

You'd know
, Kayli quips

And twirls so fast

The dress flies up

And gives me an eyeful

Of plain white cotton panties.

Like them?

She asks, pursing her lips.

I picked them in his honor.

She's referring to her Mormon date.

A solemn fourteen-year-old

Who waits upstairs with David.

You need a better bra

She says, eyeing my insufficient chest

In the green V-necked bodice.

Try this one.

I slip the dress down

And hook the new bra in place

While Kayli manhandles my boobs

Like uncooperative children.

Turn
, she commands

And the two ripe, round

Creamy buns spilling from the dress

Nearly blind me.

That
, my baby sister says

Is why they call it WonderBra.

EYE CONTACT

Poor David

He really tries

To look me in the eyes

Go ahead

Take a good look, it's okay

Let's just get it out of the way.

Wow
, he says to my cleavage

Blushing red as a stop sign

You look divine
.

His smile

Sheepish, disarming

Is utterly charming.

DOUBLE DATE

Kayli's date, Parker

Is only allowed “group dates”

And invited me and David along

As a peace offering

After all the fuss last year.

In a quiet moment

While David hangs our coats

And Kayli powders her nose

Parker fidgets and sighs

And finally says,
Sorry
.

Not your fault, I say

Thirteen years old

What were you supposed to do

With a picture like that?

Really, it's David's fault.

You're Catholic, right?

Is that why you forgave him?

David returns from the coat check

Looking splendidly rakish.

One of the reasons, I say.

DAVID

He's one of those handsome boys

Who lurks in the shadow

Of a more handsome brother

Skates across the ice

After a better sniper

Struggles through classes

That his brother aced.

He's one of those sweet boys

You would think

Had a new girl each week

But as he confessed to me

Has had no girls at all

Ever.

He's one of those happy boys

Whose laughter hides

A darker side

A deeper struggle

A brain that buzzes

A heart that longs

For praise he never gets.

He's one of those lost boys

Just waiting

To be found

I guess that's how

He ended up

With me.

SLOW DANCING

Eyes turn

And whispers hiss

David and ELLA?

My head rests

Cheek to his chest

Ella and DAVID?

His fingers tiptoe

Around my hip

David and ME.

LITTLE BLACK DRESSES

Genie and her clique

Corner me in the ladies room

Like crows converging on carrion.

Pretty dress
,
Ella
, Genie says

But what on EARTH is your sister wearing?

Her friends cackle on cue.

It's vintage, I say, but your dresses are lovely.

Was it one respectable dress

That you cut into three?

They giggle, like I've just complimented them

For showing so much skin

And their legs, backs and boobs slink out.

Leaving me, heart galloping

My fingers curled around the sink

So tight it hurts.

FIRST KISS

Have you seen Kayli?

I ask David

Worried now that Genie will

Go after her too.

I'm feeling

The gloss wearing off

The sparkle dimming

The champagne bubbles popping

On Spring Fling.

Now I just

Want to

Go

Home.

We find Kayli and Parker

By the fountain

Her pressed against

A Grecian column.

The hem of the pink dress

Is bunched in Parker's fist

On her thigh.

Are you all right?

David asks her.

My sister.

My fourteen-year-old

Baby

Sister.

She grins

Lipstick smeared

Starry-eyed.

I'm great,

She says

And you?

DRIVEWAY

We drop off Parker first

OUT
, David says

As Kayli's goodnight kiss

Gets slightly out of hand.

Later, Kayli runs barefoot

Up our driveway

I see her barreling down the hall

As the front door swings closed.

She'll be calling all her girlfriends,

I tell David, to give them a report.

What about you
? he asks

Will you be reporting to your girlfriends
?

I could say, “What girlfriends?”

Or “What's to report?”

But instead I look at my knees

While David loosens his tie.

TRANSITION

Did you have fun?

Yes. Did you?

Yes. Would you like to go out with me again?

We go out together all the time.

We saw
Cats
last week.

Right. Singing cats.

That was brilliant.

Better than that so-called hockey game.

No, no, that was wrestling.

Ice wrestling?

Yes. That's a thing now.

Didn't you know?

You're cute when you snort.