Seeds of Hate (6 page)

"I don't know your side, but either way it doesn't look good. I'm late and I know you hate hearing that, but it is what it is." She grabbed her purse after giving me a good hard stare.

"We will discuss this later and I mean it. The school said you're suspended until further notice, Javi." I already knew this, but my mother had a way of wanting to repeat things. She rubbed her lower back and placed a plate of food for me in the microwave. "You have nothing I can take away and no important plans that I know of for the weekend, so I can only say this—no Gio." Her last word sucked the air out of me. No Gio?

"Why are you punishing me by punishing him? That's not fair." I raised my voice—I had never spoken to my mother like this before.

"And that's exactly why," she said, her hands digging through her purse. "Life isn't fair. Your choices affect others and that's not fair. I raised you better." She found her keys and left. I looked at the wall connecting my apartment to Gio's and walked over, placing my knuckles against the plaster. Lifting my hand, I stopped mid-air and brought it back to my side.

Did she really raise me better? Or did she just want to believe she did.

Two minutes ticked away and I wrestled with listening to my mom. I brought my hand back up to the wall and tapped twice. Footsteps shuffled on the other side in the distance and then another two taps reciprocated my own.

My eyes squeezed shut and my mouth opened.

"Hey, I'm tied up tonight. Got things going on and stuff. Won't be around. You gonna be okay just chilling at home?" I had both fists braced against the wall, expecting his hands to come through and slap me in the face. What I got was worse. Silence, silence, and more silence.

"Gio?" My voice echoed through my empty apartment and then was absorbed by the green carpet. One small tap hit the wall and then his footsteps retreated.

"I'll catch you later, okay?" I yelled out. "We'll go out and do something. Grab food. Something." I pressed my forehead against the wall and whispered into the plaster, "I'm sorry, Gio. I'm sorry for letting you down." I wouldn't be going out until I was admitted back into school, and I'm sure going out included Gio staying over.

The memories I held with Nathan grated against my actions from earlier. I walked into my bathroom and stared at the shower enclosure. I stepped toward the glass door and ran my fingers across the patched wall where the old holes used to be from the previous curtain rod. Then I turned around, leaned against the wall and slid down onto the floor. I sat there and thought about my past, my present and what I hoped would be my future. The neckline of my t-shirt began to tighten as my thought process became suffocating. I peeled it off and threw it into the corner. Small drops of sweat bubbled across the surface of my skin as I rubbed my hands down the back of my neck and around my throat.

"Calm down, Javi. Your life has potential. Your life has potential." I chanted these words as Izzy had said them to me over the last year. It was the first thing he told me every morning when I saw him at school. I accepted them and although I never responded, internally they helped me get through each day. A continual reminder that someone found worth in me. All a life needed was one person.

One person to count on. One person to love. One person to believe in you.

I was that person for Gio. The next week wouldn't destroy him, but he had no one. I needed to be better. If not for myself, then at least for Gio. I wanted to give him what I never had. What my father took away when he decided I wasn't worth it. What my mother tried to give me, but couldn't do on her own.

What Gio's mother didn't even try to give him.

Hope.

Chapter 9

My Home is a Mobile One

(Selah)

He didn't show up the next day. I watched his friend, Izzy, come and go and sit in his usual area against the brick wall, but Javier never came. I wandered outside my normal zones to see if I could hear anything being passed around, but campus was dead. No whispers, no gossip, no asinine stories with even the slightest truth being shared.

Leaves scuttled about the air and I shivered, pulling my jacket closed. The warning bell signaling the end of lunch shot throughout campus, and like good trained animals, we responded. I stomped my toes against the pavement as I headed toward my last class and looked back at the brick wall.

Would he come back?

***

"Selah, dinner, now please." My godmother's voice, steady and strong, hit the door of my bedroom with polite force. I threw my books on the floor, put my shoes on and headed to the dining room.

"Seven years now, Selah, seven years and I still have to remind you?" Her hands rested on her hips and the white, ruffle-edged apron she donned every night while cooking was speckled with red sauce.

"Remind me about what?" I asked.

Carolyn Caldwell tapped her shoulder twice with her index finger, the tip of which was painted the perfect shade of dusty mauve.

"Yes, my apologies. I got hot." I turned around and walked back upstairs, grabbed my small white cardigan and put it on. I sat down the same time my godfather, Frank, took his seat at the dinner table. I watched him intently as he thumbed through a stack of legal papers while sipping on his decades old Scotch. He didn't speak or make any acknowledgment of my presence.

The swinging door to the kitchen popped open and Aunt Carolyn—what I had begun to call her over the years—placed a piping hot casserole onto the center of our eight ft. dining table. The six crystal candelabras were all lit and a ten-tiered glass chandelier sparkled off of the dim glow. The sun had been smothering the clouds all day, but as my aunt sat down and gave thanks for the food, a cold chill swept under the table.

As she prayed, Frank picked up his fork and continued to thumb through his paperwork. Twenty minutes passed by as we ate in silence. I took my last bite, excused myself and then exited into the kitchen. Turning on the faucet, I washed, rinsed and dried my plate before thanking Aunt Carolyn and heading back to my room—my only home.

I threw my body onto my bed and burrowed my face into the pillow. My fingers searched underneath for a tiny envelope and upon finding it, I rolled over, breathed deep, and stared down at the folded letter in my hands. The paper was threadbare and had been opened and closed more times than I could count. Seven long and torturous years had gone by since I originally received it. Since I had been abandoned. I knew that using the term "abandoned" might be a little theatrical, but when your parents decided to up and move to a completely different continent without taking you along, what did you call it? I felt abandoned, discarded, orphaned—no matter how pure their intentions had been.

Leaving me behind, however, created a different problem. If they didn't want me, why did they have me?

Their original plan was just to go for a single year, but that single year turned into two and two turned into four and now seven years had gone by since I had lived under their roof. Shared their love. Enjoyed their attention. Felt wanted.

I frowned. Even after all the frustration and bitterness, I still missed them dearly.

My godparents were nice enough. Frank and Carolyn both came from extremely wealthy backgrounds and had very high-end taste. I had assumed over time I would get used to the luxury and opulence, but I hadn't. The heart wants what the heart wants and for the last 2,146 days I had ached for my scratchy sheets, cheesy kitten posters, and glow in the dark star decals that my mom and dad had affixed with painstaking precision to the ceiling above my bed. They, of course, no longer existed. When my parents left, they sold everything they had accumulated over the years.

Everything that had made us a family.

***

I left for school the next day before anyone else was up. The campus was still dark as the sun barely scratched the rooftops. I located Javier's locker and wrote him a note. I didn't know how else to contact him, so I dropped it in one of the small air slots and then went to my accepted social area of campus.

Javier -

If you smile.
It gets easier.

I didn't know him apart from what I had observed. I didn't have any pull with him or influence, but I was tired of people leaving—regardless of the circumstances. And I was tired of being lonely. I needed a friend.

It didn't have to be him, though. I just wanted someone. Anyone. So I looked at the brick wall and formulated a plan. And that plan began with Izzy.

Izzy. Izzy. Izzy. Weird name, but I could work with weird. Weird was good.

Chapter 10

Make New Friends

(Selah)

The weekend passed as all my weekends passed—with the depressing realization that high school would end and I would have no photos, no memories and no friendships to show for it. Who doesn't have evidence of a high school existence, even a boring one?

I peeked around the large, green dumpster situated at the back of the cafeteria and tried to see if he was here. Nope, just Izzy. He sat against the brick wall with two coffee cups next to him. I adjusted my shirt, pulled my backpack up high and walked toward him. His legs were stretched out in front and he had a book propped in his hands.

Looking to my left and right, afraid my actions were committing some unknown social crime, I approached slowly. Invisible caution tape marked their surrounding area as if warning the students they were entering forbidden territory—you are not wanted here. No one else ever sat with them. Ever.

Lucky for me I wasn't wanted anywhere. When you don't belong, it makes it easier to break the rules. Especially if breaking the rules meant finding a place to call home.

So I entered, taking a chance. Hoping for acceptance and knowing the worst would be no different.

My approach, casual and careless, masked my inner fear. I took a seat directly next to him and picked up the untouched coffee cup.

"Is he coming back today? Or ever?" I asked while looking out at their viewpoint. They had an eye for the entire campus. All the varying castes that existed within high school could be observed like they held the royal throne. I took a sip of the coffee.

Izzy stared at me, his head tilting to the left. He picked up his coffee and took a drink and then looked out with me.

"I'm not sure," he said, his words slow and confused. "We only talk at school." He offered me a brown bag saturated in grease. "Do I know you?"

I smiled wide and ignored his question. "What is it?" I asked.

"Just eat it," he replied.

I reached in the bag, pulled out a hot sticky substance and took a bite. "Uh, yummo."

"My parents run a bakery. I stop by every morning. Bring Javi something too."

"Must be nice," I replied. My eyes squinted with delight. I took another bite, enjoying the first sweet thing life had to offer me for a while.

"Yeah, it's okay. I have to work every weekend though. Family comes first. No exceptions." Izzy finished off his pastry and then crumpled up the bag and tossed it at the nearby trash can. He missed by two feet.

"I'll work for you if you let me have your parents," I said.

"What?" he asked.

"I said, I'll work every weekend if I can have your parents."

"Why, don't like your own?" He laughed. "I think most kids our age have the same problem."

"Don't have any," I replied.

Izzy flinched. "Sorry. I didn't mean ... was it recent?" His lips hesitated at the tip of his cup.

"Was what recent?" I asked while downing the remaining liquid.

"Their death?" he asked.

"It's complicated, but no, it wasn't recent. Although, sometimes it feels like it was today."

He sat finishing his coffee and watched the school shift and interact. The bell rang, but neither of us moved.

"I guess he isn't coming today?" I asked.

"He probably won't be back for a while. I wouldn't be surprised if he's out for the entire week. Maybe more," Izzy replied.

"But he'll come back, right?" I asked.

"Of course. He's just suspended. What, you think he ran away or something?"

"No. Maybe changed schools," I replied. "I hate it here."

"Here isn't the problem. It's the people," he replied.

"Why didn't Nate get punished then? It's not just Javier's fault."

Izzy's neck pulled back and he lifted an eyebrow. "How do you know so much?"

I lifted my shoulders and leaned forward to tie a loose shoelace. "People talk. I listen," I replied.

"Javier isn't willing to explain his involvement. So it looks like he just lashes out. No one sees the Nathan he deals with."

"Why doesn't he speak up?" I asked.

Izzy scratched his chin and then rubbed the tip of his nose. "Pride. I think."

"Pride?"

"Something like that. Ask Javier. I doubt he'll tell you though."

Raising my empty cup in the air, I smiled. "Agreed. I tried the other day. Talking to him. It didn't work so well. How come
you're
talking to me?" I asked. I wiggled against the brick wall and played with the zipper on my bag.