Authors: Ellen Hopkins
Identical (26 page)
Daddy Isn’t Home
Not that I expected him to be.
It’s early yet. I climb down
from the bike, biting back
anxiety. “Want to come inside?”
Ian hesitates. Normally he
wouldn’t chance it. But today
whatever he has to say makes
the risk worthwhile.
Okay.
Knowing spies might lurk,
we don’t touch until we’re
through the front door. Once
it closes, I’m in Ian’s arms.
Our kiss eclipses all others,
real, imagined, dreamed of.
It is the beginning of time,
it is the end of the ages.
I can’t breathe, don’t want
to breathe. I want to give my
breath to Ian, die in the giving.
I want to give him more….
Desire Strikes Like a Cobra
Sinks its fangs between my legs,
injects its venom. The heady
creep wanders from groin to belly.
I lift Ian’s hands, urge them
against the throb beneath
my blouse. “Touch me. Please?”
He wants to, does, and I love
his skin on mine. And then
he moans,
Oh, Kaeleigh…
And suddenly a different
snake strikes, with lightning
ferocity. Not cobra, but python,
threading itself around me,
squeezing. Hissing,
Oh, Kaeleigh.
Oh yes, that’s right, little flower.
I jerk back and Ian’s watery eyes
reflect the horror in my own.
Oh God, Kaeleigh, what is it?
Tell me!
Then he softens, clay
in hot-water hands.
Please
tell me.
And he starts to cry.
And I cry too. And I want
to confess. And I fall so deep
into his tears that I think I’ll drown.
“Oh God, Ian. I love you
so much. If I could tell
anyone, I would tell you….”
Anger swells inside him now,
bloats like August carrion,
and his eyes fairly sizzle.
You are all I’ve ever wanted,
and I want you now with all
that I am. I don’t mean I want
sex with you, although I do
want that, too. I want the part
of you that you refuse to give.
And I Think
He will do as he’s always done
in the past—stalk away, out
the door. Rev up his bike,
leave me here, alone in his
exhaust. Small. Very small.
Instead he coaxes me,
Please,
let me hold you.
And I look,
but the python has dissolved
into the jungle, left me numb
with confusion and need.
The need for a friend. The need
for a lover. The need to trust
someone, and who can I trust,
if not Ian? I lean into the warmth
of him, the truth of him. I look
up into his eyes, find so much
love for me there I know I’ll
never be okay without him in
my life. My eyes beg him to
kiss me. And when he does,
it’s like rain on drought-starved
desert. I want to give him what he
asked for. Just as I think I will,
it full frontal hits me that
it’s best to let sleeping pythons lie.
Speaking of Snakes
I think it’s best for Ian to leave
before my personal serpent slithers
home. “I’m not ready to tell you
everything yet, but I want you to
know something changed today….”
Something profound, but I don’t
say that. “I’ve always loved you
like a friend, but I want us to be
more. I want to give you all of me,
and I will just as soon as I can. Okay?”
His eyes are red. Bleary.
But smeared in them is something
resembling hope. He smiles.
I’ve waited this long. Guess
a little longer won’t hurt.
But please try to trust me. Love
is meaningless without trust.
I can’t change what has happened
in the past, Kaeleigh. I can only
promise to make the future better.
And he kisses me again, and
there is no need for sex, no
need for hands. No demands.
No control. Only connection.
I Walk Ian to His Bike
Feeling completely disconnected
without my fingers twined in his.
But the idea of spies—Daddy’s,
Mom’s, or some unknown covert
operatives—nags. I look right, left,
over my shoulder, across the street,
but can’t discern a single person
who might qualify as a spy.
Before Ian can put on his helmet,
I sneak one last delicious kiss.
“Oh, hey. You wanted to talk to me
about something, remember?”
Ian looks nowhere but directly
into my eyes.
Think we covered it.
Guess I’ll see you tomorrow.
He straddles the Yamaha, turns
the key, pauses long enough
to say,
I love you,
and he’s gone.
My Normal MO
After Ian leaves me alone
is to run to the refrigerator,
empty most of it onto a plate
and smother every bad feeling.
Like an automaton, I go into
the kitchen, open the fridge,
peek inside. But for once,
nothing shouts,
Eat me now!
Thinking back, I didn’t have
lunch, didn’t have breakfast.
I should be starving, and in
fact, my tummy’s rumbling.
I grab a bottle of raspberry
iced tea, one of Mom’s Power-
Bars, and a handful of grapes.
Eating healthy? So not me.
But at the moment, nothing
inside needs to be killed with food.
No shame. No pain. No loneliness.
Every demon is fast asleep.
Notice I Didn’t Say Gone
I’m not stupid enough to
believe one magical afternoon
can vanquish my monsters
forever. And what is
forever,
anyway, but enough time
for monster to beget monster?
No matter, I take a big bite
of the PowerBar, which
is
stale, the texture of rubber,
and mostly flavorless, though
the wrapper claims “great
chocolate taste.” It takes
a long
while and too many teeth-
grinding chews to swallow
a single bite. I toss the rest, gulp
some tea, and just about the
time
I consider my homework,
I hear the garage door open.
If I hurry, I can slip out the front
before Daddy knows I’m here.
Too much of me is happy right
now to allow the rest
to worry
about his current state of mind.
The Library
Is busy this afternoon.
Lots of little kids running
around. It seems like it takes
forever
to find a quiet place in an
unobtrusive corner. I put my
sweater on the chair across
from mine. Wait. Mr. Lawler
is
late, and it crosses my mind
that he might stand me up.
I pretend to be working,
and after what seems like
a long
long time (though the clock
insists it’s only ten minutes),
I sense eyes and smell Lawler’s
woody cologne. S
orry I’m late.
Time
got away from me this afternoon.
Is this yours?
He points to
my sweater and I nod. “Saved
you a seat.” He smiles and sits
across the narrow table from
me and seems not
to worry
at all that our legs touch.
Glad I Wore Jeans Today
I haven’t shaved in a few days.
Nothing less sexy than stubble,
when you’re leg to leg
with an amazing guy.
And, teacher or no teacher,
ten years (or maybe more) my
senior or not, he is def amazing.
I lean forward slightly, notice
his eyes fall to what almost
passes as cleavage, with a good
Victoria’s Secret push-up bra
helping out. Glad I wore that, too.
He clears his throat.
Of all
my students this semester,
you seem to have the best
grip on history. Not just
dates and events, but also
their relevance to today.
So how can I help you?
I smile. “Loaded question.
But what I’d like is your take
on conspiracy theories….”
We spend the next twenty minutes
discussing the Kennedys, Martin
Luther King Jr., Castro,
Lyndon B. Johnson, and government goons.
Who knew conspiracy theories
and sixties politics could be
such a major turn-on?
The entire time, my legs rest
gently between his, knees
touching the inside of his,
and despite my “lunch” with
Mick today, I’m starting to
feel incredibly, um…aroused.
And what’s more, I can tell
Lawler feels the same way.
While we talk, his hair strays
down close to his eyes and
I start to reach up, move it out
of the way for him. Reconsider.
Damn, the man is totally hot.
Just as I think that, my cell
phone rings. Once. Twice.
I glance at who’s calling.
Daddy, of course. “Excuse
me one second?” I turn my
back to Lawler, take the call,
explain where I am and when
I’ll be home. After I hang
up, Mr. Lawler says,
Sounds like it’s time to go.
Any more questions?