based on the song by Grace VanderWaal
I can see clearly now
The rain has gone
I accept all the things that I cannot change
Gone are the dark clouds
The dawn has come
It's gonna be a bright, bright sunshiny day
My doctor tried to install in me to have positive mind. She didn’t mean to paste a fake smile, allow everyone to punch me in the face and scream out: “Please, sir, can I have some more?” And there were times that I wanted to stay on that high cloud. “Don’t punch that dude, Jo,” or “Don’t drive a nail into that jackass’s tires” to “Don’t throw your heart into everything. Think first.” Okay, maybe she didn’t say that…no, that was from my other therapist, the one who I paid with giving him rides around town.
There were days that I should have listened more to the both of them.
“And so, Dr. Norby tells me that I wrote out the chemical formula for shit.”
“You mean you got it wrong?” I asked as we drove down the street. We as in myself and Frank, my friend since the sixth grade. We did just about everything together.
“No, I mean a real formula for it: C9H9N”
“What were you trying to write out?” I asked as I turned my car onto the highway.
“I was taking a guess at the question. Just Lucky.”
“The weird thing is that he knows that’s the formula in the first place.”
“I was thinking that too.”
Frank closed his notebook and then tapped on the dashboard. “Question for you.”
“Okay.”
“Promise you won’t get mad?”
“Can’t promise anything until I hear it.”
“Well, we’ve gone over this a few times.”
“We’ve gone over a lot of things. You’re going to have to clarify that a bit.”
Frank looked in the side mirror as we passed a school bus. “Yeah, it’s about April.”
“April again?”
“Yes, again.”
“She doesn’t hate you,” I replied as I merged back into the lane. I wasn’t in a hurry to get home I just usually drove at sixty-five miles an hour—on a road with a limit of fifty-five—because I could.
“That’s a good sign, maybe.”
“She doesn’t really know you either.”
“You were supposed to talk to her.”
“I was?” I replied with mock surprise.
“You have the inside track with her, you know, being in the girls’ locker room.”
“Frank, there’s like, an order that girls do when talking about guys and no, we don’t talk about them while taking a shower.”
“But later on?”
“Sure, while we’re getting dressed let me bring you up. Nothing weird about that.”
“I’m getting the feeling that you’re trying to get me to ask her myself.”
“You should go with that feeling.”
“What about you?” Frank adjusted the heater—it was February and there was snow everywhere but on the road as the weather had allowed the plows to treat the highways.
“Dating is way off my radar.”
“That’s a load of C9H9N right there, Joanna.”
“That’s true,” I replied as I swatted Frank’s hand away the temperature control.
“I could talk to a few of the basketball players. We’re not afraid to talk about girls in the shower.”
“Of course not.”
“We could help each other with finding a date for the dance.”
“I have never liked dances since the seventh grade.”
“And that was, what, four years ago?”
“And there are people who still remember.”
“The dress rip?”
“It didn’t rip. It was torn and you know it.”
“Sorry, Jo.”
“If I ever see Anthony Riesche again, I will have you beat him for me.”
Frank nodded.
The second and final dance in seventh grade was held in the darkened multi-purpose room with the boys on one side and the girls on the other. It was held during school hours so no one was dressed in prom regalia but in what could be described as “their Sunday best” and I chose to wear a dress that day. I stood with the girls—as I had started transitioning months before. There was always pushback from someone or other that day was no different, but Frank walked near me, so no one said anything to my face but there was a lot of hatred from the other girls and some hazing from the boys. I assumed that day would be the same.
Everyone was on the main floor for several fast songs but as soon as the tempo dropped for the next song, it was like Moses has walked in and parted the waters—with everyone standing on the opposite sides of the room. It was a huge game of “Red Rover” and no one—except for Amy Mangelsen and Michael Thomas who, according to Frank, had broken past the “just holding hands” barrier—went out to slowly turn in a clockwise motion while staring into each other’s eyes.
We were required to be at the dance. The only ways to get out of it were to be sick or be suspended and as much as I didn’t care to be there, I had hoped that…maybe…maybe, someone would want to dance with me. I had ordered Frank to not come within twenty-five feet of me and to not look at me so I would not look at him and have the room assume we were going to come together like friends who become lovers. We never crossed that boundary…and at that time Frank was heavily into breasts, which due to crappy genetics, bad timing with doctors and my stand to not to stuff anything…I mean, only the dumbest guy in the world would assume they just magically grew overnight for a stupid dance. It was dark, however, so it could have been possible…maybe? I mean, boys are a little dense.
So, as Garth Brooks’ “The Dance” played there were a few girls going up and dragging guys onto the floor and there was one guy who walked across the great divide and up to me. His name was Tony Riesche and he was pretty good in the looks department. He had braces and his tie was a little frazzled, but he was an okay guy from what I knew of him. We were never in the same classes together but I heard that he was going to be “that guy” that you either liked with all of your seventh grade admiration or despised with your soon to grow teenage disdain: he was the guy who had the money and talent and everyone knew it. Stating that, I had to wonder why he was standing before me.
“Do you want to dance?” He had asked at the same time Garth said it in the song.
There was a tug-of-war going on in my brain. Yes, this was what I wanted…and…No, I didn’t care. I had not expressly shown an interest in boys but at that moment, I was.
I nodded and he took my hand. If there was laughter, snickering or gasps I couldn’t hear them as we stepped out onto the floor. He placed his hands around my waist, and I rested mine on his shoulders. I didn’t want to look at eyes because that would mean we would have to discuss things that I didn’t want to think about. Instead, I laid my head near his shoulder, he was a little taller than I was, and closed my eyes. Perhaps we should have said something to each other. get to know one another, talk about our future together and how we arrange our shared locker in high school. But no, instead I just leaned into it all and it felt good. It was best feeling since I came out to my family and Frank. The song ended and a fast-paced, hip hop song blasted out of the speaker in the worst possible segue ever. I felt grasp at my dress and as I stepped away a look of extreme horror came onto my face as I looked at Anthony face—which was a mix of malice and a sadistic grin. The dress was ripped and most of it fell off of me.
And, for some reason, the lights came up. So…picture if you will, a half-naked girl in their underwear being laughed at by just about everyone except for the teachers and by Frank who came right over and slammed Anthony’s face to the floor in some move he later said was called a suplex. I picked the dress up and tried to cover myself as much as I could—but everyone had pretty much seen enough that everyone’s parents had an excuse to bring a torch and a pitchfork to the Riesche’s front door. Instead, I was barred from wearing a dress to school. That lasted less than a day as my parents came in almost gave the principal the riot act. He took one look at my parents and then commented that the Riesche’s were taking full responsibility. They took responsibility by moving away. So, while I didn’t’ have to physically see him, the mental scars remained and every year each dance brought those feelings back.
“If April does say yes, I think we’ll go to that fondue place downtown.”
“Expensive.”
“If I’m going for the flowers and tuxedo? Might as well.”
“Frank, it’s just the Winterfest dance. Not like it’s prom.”
“Oh, for prom, I’ll take her in a limo.” Frank replied as I stopped in front of house that was on top of a snow-covered driveway. I was not going to try to go up it.
“Where are you getting the money to do this?”
“I guess it’s too late to get a job to save.” Frank said as he opened the passenger side door.
“For Winterfest you got two weeks. Prom, a few months.”
“Wait, you’re good with numbers—”
“—We’re not playing Powerball.”
“I’ll split it with you.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Frank.”
“Not unless we have more snow. Catch you later Joanna.”
“Later,” I replied as he closed the door.
I lived a mile up the road in a house that was on an even higher hill and could not be seen from the road.
Frank’s drive to ask April out had started three weeks prior. April was new to Reardan—she was a transfer from Medical Lake—and had not fallen into any cliques nor listened to the rumor mills. We talked a little bit, but not enough for us to say we were friends and not enough for me to just volunteer that my best friend wanted to do whatever made her happy. That he wanted the white picket fence and the two-point-five kids. He once spent three hours laying out the master plan for Frank and April Sullivan. He even had the honeymoon itinerary planned out and as much as I needed to study for my algebra test, I chose to listen to his list that he had written down. The stop gap to his happiness? He didn’t know that April still had a boyfriend at her old school, which was only fifteen miles away.
There was a chance they could break up…but time was running out to tell Frank.
So close your eyes
And create yourself a better life
Let the wind blow through your hair
Let the music take you there
And make a better life, better life,
My parents were home when I plowed my way up the driveway—they were standing on the porch, which was never a good sign. I went over the possible scenarios that this could have caused this mob mentality to occur in my parents: the school called because I threatened to throw a kid down the stairs because he said something about me? Possible, I would threaten that, but all of them, so far, would just brush me off and continue on their way. Yes, that did annoy me but if I actually did shove someone down the stairs then Frank would have been irritated that I didn’t let him do it instead.
Maybe one of the bus drivers finally called in my license plate to the office and then called the local police? No, because there would be a police cruiser present. As I looked at their faces, they were happy which made me frown as when my parents smiled it was because they were going to start some crazy project of trip of sorts.
The door opened behind an them to reveal someone who looked like my older sister, Julia. She was the popular one. She was the student council president. She had cut her hair short and she held onto a large coffee mug.
Julia went to a school in France and was, for the most part, out of touch with everyone as she embraced some French word for “being on one’s ownself” and had finally come home after she got bored with it. Contrary to her popularity at school she was indifferent to everything I ever said, done, or breathed so it was a bit of a relief to feel like an only chid with two rooms pretty much to myself while she was away. However, at that moment she put her mug on a patio table and ran down to the car as I got out and grabbed my backpack.
“Hey there, little sister.”
“Hi, Julie, how are you?”
“Is that the way to say hello? Come here,” she pulled me close to her and then looked at blouse I was wearing.
“Is that my blouse?”
“Yes.”
Julie turned around, grabbed her coffee and went into the house.
I ran past our parents and jumped very other step to the second floor where our rooms were. My door was already open. Julie stood in the middle of the room and held up a green dress that was-still, but technically she had abandoned it—hers.
“Is this mine?”
“Yes.”
“Does it fit you?
“Yes.”
“Chouette.”
We glanced at each other for a moment.
“Do you have any more of my clothes?”
“Define, more,” I replied as I stepped into my room and stepped past Julia in a wide arc.
“Did you raid my closet?”
“No, mom, gave me a few and--”
I was ready for Julie’s face to turn red and her voice to rise up five notes above G10 but she just nodded and reached for a green dress she wore for her senior prom.
“Well, let’s see how you look in it. My interest is piqued.”
“Seriously?”
“Show me your catwalk waltz,” she replied as she walked out of my room. “Call me when you’re ready.”
Julie closed the door behind her, leaving me with a dumbstruck look.
Picture the older sister who absolutely hated the fact that you were born. Imagine hearing that she once tried to sell you in the newspaper. Think back to the time that she screamed for two hours—a record in our house at the time—over the fact you borrowed one of her CD’s….a CD that was on the floor, out of its case, in the corner of her closet and even though you were ever so careful with it, she did not acknowledge you actually saved it from destruction as later on she had piled several heavy hand weights into that corner of the closet. I was a bit afraid to put the dress on but decided to. The most she could do would be to demand I take it off and give it to her.
A few minutes later, I walked out of my room wearing said green dress and a pair of flats. I didn’t do anything extensive. No make-up touch ups or lipstick. This was my sister, not Tom Holland.
“Ready!” I called out as I opened the door and stepped out. Julie walked out of her room and just looked at me, well, more like studying.
“Okay, you fit it well…a little too well. Surgery?”
“No, not yet.”
“Not ever!” Mom shouted from the bottom of the stairs.
“I don’t know, mom, she could be spilling out of this dress.”
“Julia Anne Peterson!”
“I don’t want to be spilling out, as you say. It’s difficult enough to deal with how they are now.”
“I suspected this…a bit before I left…but…why didn’t you tell me?”
I shrugged as Julie moved closed and adjusted my hair. “How could I?”
“Yeah…we need to all talk about that,” Julie turned to our parents, bit her lip, and turned back to me. “Can I still call you Joey?”
“I’d prefer if you didn’t.”
“Comment t'appelles-tu?”
“Joanna.”
“Are you using that cheap stuff I had for foundation?”
“I’m using what works for me.”
“You need something different. Turn around, let’s try something else.”
“I am not going to be an experiment.”
“No, you shall be oeuvre d'art.”
Julie sat me down in front of her desk, grabbed everything from out of the bathroom, and from the collection I had in my room.
“Is it better?”
“Is what better?”
“Exploring this new path. Move your head to the side, please.”
“It is some days. I get a few reminders, a few dead name calls.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s fine,” I lied.
“Did you go out for cheerleading?”
“Nope,” I replied. Julie was a cheerleader, Prom queen, homecoming princess, that chick everyone knows around town because everyone within six degrees of separation had heard of her. I preferred to just be me and did not try to emulate my sister in any way.
“You should have.”
“I had enough trouble with being able to use the girls’ locker room.”
Julie nodded as she flung my neck back. “I have this great stuff that helps with pimples. You have some blackhead starters. Got a date for Winterfest?”
“No,” I sighed. “Not going.”
“Why not?”
“Haven’t found anyone yet.”
“Have you asked anyone?”
“Nope.”
“Are you still close with what’s his name?”
“Frank and I are just friends.”
“Just friends, not after he sees you like this.”
“You are not helping me. He’s got something for a new girl.”
“Do I detect some jealousy in your voice?”
“Humph.”
Julie picked up a bottle and shook it. “Your grunt tells me you don’t like her.”
“I don’t care about April.”
“But he does?” She asked as she applied whatever it was to my face.
“She has a boyfriend at her old school. So, nothing going to happen.”
“Good, then he can ask you then.”
“No, Julie, he’s not—”
There was a knock on the front door. I wondered who it was and tried to turn my head so I could hear who it was but Julie twisted my head over like I was a “Barbie Hair Care Head”
“Joanna, Frank’s here.
“I’ll be right down!” I yelled.
“Oh yeah, you don’t care at all for him.” Julie stated as I ran out of the room. I wanted to turn around and stick out my tongue or flash a middle finger but instead I ran down the stairs, nearly tripping over my shoes and the dress. I actually did stumble on the last step but recovered before Frank walked back to the stair landing.
Frank turned to look at me and held his mouth slightly open for a split second.
“I have an idea about how to pay for Winterfest.”
“Okay.”
“That, that looks good on you, Joanna.”
“Thank you.”
“Hey, Frank!” Julie shouted from the top of the staircase
“Hi, Julie.”
“Doesn’t she look like divine?”
“Yeah, you look, what she said.” We both looked up to Julie who took the hint to step away from the upper landing.
“So, what’s your plan?”
“Like I said, it’s too late to get a job but I could take my PS4 to a shop in Spokane and get about one-fifty. That should cover flowers and such.” He said with a small wince.
“But not dinner and all that?”
“She’ll have to deal with it,” he replied with a shrug.
“Okay, tell you what, if you ask her and she says yes, I will buy your PlayStation for two-fifty and you can give it to me the day after Winterfest.”
“You hate PlayStation games.”
“No, I said they suck. But two-fifty’s still a good deal.”
Your silly words
I won't live inside your world
'Cause your punches and your names
All your jokes and stupid games
They don't work
No, they don't hurt
Watch them just go right through me
Because they mean nothing to me
I'm not clay.
“It looks like the storm passed us,” Frank said as he opened the car door. He held onto his backpack like he was balancing a glass sculpture inside.
“Yep.”
“Okay, today is the day I ask her,” he replied with a slight grin.
“Get in, you’re letting the heat get out.”
Frank sat down and closed the door as I started moving. The back roads were still snow-covered so I couldn’t drive as fast as I wanted to.
“I’ll step inside and ask her, but, before I do, I’m going to give her this.” He unzipped his backpack and took out a bouquet of roses. “I bought these last nights.”
“Does she like roses?”
“All girls like flowers.”
“Since it’s on your mind, I’d like a cactus. Maybe April will too.”
“Okay, I know I’m trying to play on her emotions, but that’s how dating works.” Frank replied as he painstakingly tried to put the flowers back without crushing any of the petals.
“To be as fake as you can?”
“I’m not being fake, Joanna. I’m acting the part. I…like April.”
“You like, or like, like?”
“That I don’t know. I just know she looks cute, and I like her smile and eyes. Can you tell me anything else about her? Does she like poetry? Does she have a favorite movie?”
“I really don’t know anything about her, Frank, except what you’ve just told me.” I replied as the wheels hit semi-dry road, so I accelerated.
“Do you think she looks cute?”
“Sure, I suppose.”
“Hey, I know that girl’s talk about other girls. Always giving tips and saying such and such looks good. If a guy ever told me I looked cute, I’d have to deck them.”
“Is that like a bro code thing?”
“Does she read any books?”
“Yes, I did see her intently reading this one book yesterday.”
“What was it?”
“Anderson’s Chemistry 201. I hear the plot’s very formulaic”
“Just for that, I’m going to nominate you for Winterfest royalty.”
“You do and I will slap you silly.”
“Ha,” Frank said with a snort. “I’d like to see you try.”
“Tonight, you, me, and the wooden swords.”
Five years earlier, Frank’s dad brought home two very heavy wooden swords. He never stated how he got them, and they were not very orated, but in the hands of two teenagers who had played way too much “Soul Caliber” at the arcade, the thought of being able to use some quasi-heavy duty sticks against each other was too good to pass up. However, after my transition, Frank never wanted to take me on again and I never wanted to place him on the spot…but on that morning, I wanted to see what he had, and I felt we could use the workout.
“Do you even remember how to use it?”
“You’ll find out.”
We arrived at the high school earlier than usual because I accelerated every time Frank said the name April.
“Do you know where to find her?” I asked as we walked to the building.
“Not exactly.”
“She has Algebra Two first period.”
“What does she have second?”
Frank opened the door and a blast of warm air hit us. The halls were pretty much empty.
“English. Just find her, walk her to her locker and get it over with.”
“I’m going to.”
“Now?”
“Yes, do you want to watch?”
“Let me go microwave some popcorn.” I replied as I walked to my locker.
Frank walked three feet ahead of me, stopped, and then looked back. “Richard, John, Jason, Monty and Eric.”
“What about them?”
“They’ll vote you in for Winterfest royalty.”
“Get the flowers out of the bag. I’ll put your backpack away.”
He took less than five seconds to whisk the roses out and tossed the empty backpack to me.
“Good luck. Seriously.”
“I got this,” he replied with a wink.
I waved him on and then went to gather my books. I kind of wanted to be a fly on the wall, to see how it would all end. Frank, to put it in a good way, was usually too abrasive or too esoteric for girls to understand. We used to talk about girls a lot, how they looked, dressed, and smelled. Even as sixth graders we kind of had an idea about how it all worked, plumbing-wise, but the thoughts and feelings were beyond us. I’d like to say that I sort had an idea, and that idea was what got me wondering who I was—how I didn’t feel like the person who looked back at me in the mirror. What I mean, is that after the day at the dance, our conversations changed. While there was a time that we talked about girls and talked about the future with what girl was topic du jour, it stopped being like that.
We would talk, but he seemed guarded and we no longer had deep sessions while playing basketball, at least for a few years, but then, one day he started asking me questions that he never would have asked in the past, about flowers and “girly” stuff, I suppose. I passed it off as a “boys”—complete with air quotes—and just allowed Frank to be Frank. Of course, as I stood in front of my locker that feeling of deep shame, that I knew April had a boyfriend back in Medical Lake, hung over me like a wraith. If I had told him then he would have said that”he’d see about that” or that he didn’t believe me and that maybe I wanted him to myself…which I would not have given the finger in return because then that would dig an even deeper rabbit hole. April would let him down gently, in a sincere way, and he’d be okay with it in public—and stay the stoic guy he was—until we were on our way home and I could then have him get it all out.
I regretted and also looked forward to that discussion as I got my books, closed my locker ad walked to Frank’s locker to see if he even had a notebook inside. I opened the door and took a short glance down the hall to see Frank walking in my direction. I took a step back, but didn’t look at him directly.
“How did it go?”
“Could I up the deal to three hundred? Dinner may be a little than I expected.”
The whole crowd seems to like me now
'Cause they think I'm cool but back when I was in school
They found it very easy to hate me
Funny how always these times are changing
Back then I was so easy to shatter
But now in the end it doesn't really matter
Tap your foot and listen in
Ignore the world, let the music cave in
Close your phone and breathe in the air
You'll soon realize that there's something that is so much more than this.
Frank’s face looked exactly like it did the day he learned he was getting a Nintendo 64 back in the day…he also had that expression when the lunchroom served pizza and chocolate milk —the little things that bring joy.
“She said yes?”
“Yep. She has this big smile and—I feel something in this, Joanna, something more than just a dance. I think it can be so much more.”
I nodded and then smiled at him. “Congratulations. So, where you going to take her?”
“Well, I was thinking, what if we did a double date kind of thing and go into Spokane?”
“Why don’t I just let you borrow my car?”
“Your dad will have a aneurysm, on top of a cardiac arrest.”
I nodded—but in a twisted way, that would have been better than me going with someone from our school.
“I could ask Paul.”
“Or you don’t,” I replied.
“I want you to go with us though.”
“What does April think about this? You haven’t asked her about that, have you?”
Frank looked down the hall—perhaps in April’s general direction—like she was Mecca or something. “I was having all of these other thoughts. I should ask her, shouldn’t I?”
I nodded.
“Slow down?”
“Just a smidgen.”
“I just want this to work out more than that time with Megan.”
Megan was a girl who had sent Frank several anonymous Valentine’s notes, each one more “romantic”—for a fifth grader—until she revealed that she was just sending lines from a movie to see how he would react. He reacted badly, as he had it in his heart and mind that whoever this girl was, then she was the one.
There had been five iterations of “The One” before ninth grade and they were usually new girls—and one who had a sudden growth spurt from a B to a D, if you follow me. Frank tried to do way too much for the first three before he learned to hold back on the poetry, the gifts and the use of the “L” word. I could have won a lot of money, if I was a betting girl, on when that four letter would come out of his mouth.
“I feel good about this. I really do. Now to play it normal. Not cool or like I got it together.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Should I ask her if she wants to hang out at lunch?”
“Did you ask her to the dance or ask to like go steady or something?” I asked as I looked down the hall and envisioned them holding hands, walking down the hallway and not caring who they clotheslined as they gazed lovingly at each other.
“Just if she wanted to go to Winterfest. But, you know, there was something in how she said she would love to that made me think there could be more. She could be the one, Jo, you know?”
I nodded as we walked down the hall to our first period class.
“Is she a junior?”
“Sophomore,” I replied.
“So, no classes with her.” Frank said and shook his head.
“You could fail English, then you could be in the class with her next year.”
“Don’t tempt me.”
“Don’t make me slap you, Francisco Leonardo Russo.” Frank turned back to me with a scowl—as he hated anyone saying his full name—and pointed a finger at me.
“I’ll go ask Paul.”
“Then you’re walkin’ home, dude.”
I sat in the middle row and Frank sat near the back of Mrs. Balum’s 10th grade English class. There was a time that there’d be a giggle or whisper from someone about me when I walked in but I didn’t make it an issue—why should it had been an issue to begin with? I never bothered anyone before I transitioned—I just came to school because I was required to and some people, like Anthony, had to make my life their business and that hurt. I still do not understand the downright evil that roams the halls of every high school. Demons and scary creatures haunting the hallways dressed in Levi’s and skirts and wearing ornate masks to fool the weary traveller as they invite them into their inner circle of sacrifice and then strip them clean of self-worth and their new dress.
So, I had an okay—as much as I knew—standing with my fellow classmates. Maybe a little more with the girls than the guys. A lot of them didn’t know me beforehand—and some only knew because one of the aforementioned demons decided it would be hysterical to talk about me. Then, they would send the new guy to me to ask a plethora of stupid questions. At first, those questions stabbed at me so much that I wanted to climb the ridge near my house and jump off of it—but I assumed that all I’d received were a few broken bones. There was a time that I tried to drown myself in the bathtub—hard to do that without a way to stay submerged. My final attempt was to take thirty-two pills of Acetaminophen, ten ibuprofen and one tic-tac—it was mixed in with the Tylenol for some reason. I was able to hold them all down for a few hours but by the middle of the school day all of the color had drained from my face and Frank was the only one—besides a few teachers—that felt something was off. I remember falling to the floor in immense pain and tears: as I tried to be the person I was, but others still felt that there was no place for me no matter what.
“Miss Peterson, are you with us, today?”
I looked up from my notebook at Mrs. Balum and felt that bolt of terror one feels when they think they may have drooled in their sleep.
“Yes ma’am.”
Mrs. Balum simply nodded and continue taking role. There were a few laughs from the other students. I allowed it. I hoped I had just zoned out and had not fallen asleep in class. Frank had one time and Mrs. Balum allowed him to sleep through the period…but also allowed him to fail a test.
The classroom door opened and Mr. Cain, the principal, stepped in and gave Mrs. Balum a card.
“You have a new student, or at least new to the high school.”
“Thank you, Mr. Cain. Who is our quasi-new arrival?”
I-like most of the class-turned to the door to see the “newbie”—but I immediately turned in horror. The body and face were older, but the face from four years prior was imprinted to my retinas: Anthony Riesche.
So Much More Than This By Grace VanderWaal
I wish I could get you
Out of my mind
But I think about it all the time
And I wish I could not think
For once in my life
But when I see your face
I can't escape my mind
The feeling of an extreme panic attack overtook me as soon as I tuned back to the front. I could feel my eyes twitch and the sensation of hands grabbing at my shoulders and pulling down. I had to look at a microscopic dot on the blackboard. An atom of chalk dust was my guardian angel, convincing me to just look at it and to not turn to see…him.
Perhaps I heard the name wrong. Maybe this was Anthony-anything-but-and-maybe-just-rhymes-with-Riesche. I closed my eyes and tried to wipe the memories away. I had grown since then. I had hundreds of session hours with my therapist to keep my mind above it all, that Anthony was in the past and I could remember him as someone who could have been hit by a car or been eaten by a wolverine, bear or a rabid raccoon…but no, he was sitting in the back of the room and my expression looked like I was ready to collapse to the floor. I did the only thing I thought I could at that moment: I scrambled from my desk, past Mr. Cain, and ran out of the room without asking for any form of permission.
“You okay?”
“What are you doing in here?” I asked as I looked up to see Frank standing next to the door.
“The next girl who walks in here is going to ask the same question. I’ll tell them I’m in here for you.”
“You don’t have to.”
“You darted out of Balum’s class like your hair was on fire.”
“I’m not going back there, Frank. I’m not.”
I leaned onto one of the sinks. “Of course, now, everyone’s going to tell him.”
“Not everyone. I can kind of guess who the asshole will be. Hey, we said we’d take care of this if it ever happened.”
“It’s not supposed to happen, Frank!” I yelled as I slammed fists against the painted cinderblock wall.
He nodded.
“I’ve had three pretty good years and now…this.”
“It can go two, maybe three ways, Joanna.”
“We could kill him?” I was all open to wrapping my backpack straps around his neck and pulling with all my might.
“That would be the fourth option. Kind of a nuclear one…that we may not want to say too loudly.”
“What are our options?”
“Okay, you’re going to get pissed with the first—”
“I am not going to let bygones be bygones. I am not going to be the bigger person. I will fight like the dirtiest bitch fighter there ever was! This is a high school, not a country. There’s no fricking Geneva Convention that will. Save. His. Ass!”
“Okay, option two is we tell Mr. Cain and let the school handle it.”
“Ooh, yeah, because they handled it so well then.”
“Do you want me to kick his ass, Jo?”
“Was that option three?”
“I hadn’t really thought of a third one…was kind of hoping you’d go with the first.”
We stared at each other for a few moments.
I took a deep breath. “I can’t let it go, Frank.”
“I know.”
“He’s going to paint me into something I’m not.”
“We’re not going to let him. You are Joanna Annette Peterson, not whoever he may think you are.”
“So, we’re using full names today?”
“You started it,” Frank replied with a shrug. “You okay?”
I nodded a few times and then turned away from him.
“Jo?”
“No, I can’t go back in there. I can’t go into that hall with him being there.”
“Shall we have class in here? I call dibs on stall one. It looks cleaner than the others.”
“I want to brave, I do, but I have hundreds of hours of therapy based on what I would do if he ever came back and there he is.”
“Okay, hear me out.”
I turned around to face him but Frank looked to the ground and then refused to look me in the eye.
“What?”
“Maybe he’s different now. Perhaps life has caught up with him or he’s grown a conscience since then.”
“The only way I’m going to leave this room is that if he even looks at me, you will help me kick his ass.”
“Do you think April would look at me as being heroic?”
“Depends on the backstory you tell her.” I replied as I took a deep breath.
“Can I embellish a little bit?”
“Sure, go for it.” I replied as the bell rang.
“Let’s get our books.”
We left the restroom with a few students gawking at Frank stepping out of the girls room. It took a little explaining to Mrs. Balum about what happened. I avoided the details but mentioned the bad history I shared with Anthony as Frank gathered our stuff.
I kept my focus on my locker. I didn’t look for Anthony, but I could see him—barely—in the corner of eye and I could sweat he was looking at me. Perhaps timing just the right moment to throw a verbal barb or attempt to rip off what I was wearing.
“Do you see April?”
“No.”
“But you saw Anthony.”
“Uh-huh. Is he looking at me?”
“No, it looks like he’s being crowded by the old crew.”
“Can I hit him with my car?”
“Calm down a bit there, Bronson.”
“April at your six o’clock.”
Frank turned back around and kind of frantically looked for her, even though she was pretty much in front of us.
“Hey, Frank,” she said with a big wave and a wide smile.
“April,” he replied as he tried to stay “cool”. “Ahh, are you doing anything for lunch?”
“Lunchroom, I guess.”
“I have a much better place in mind. Somewhere where we can get whatever you want and have a bit of conversation too.”
“Where is that?”
“Ahh, that will be a surprise. Are you game?”
She looked at him with eyes that were so huge I almost asked her if she was manga character. “I’m interested.”
If I was not standing there, I was certain they would have been all over each other.
“Meet me under the clock at lunch.”
“I’ll do that,” she replied. “I gotta get to class now, though. I’m falling behind in Spanish.”
“Of course. I’ll see you later.”
She made another huge wave to him and looked like a lovestruck little girl while doing it. I guess she had gotten over her Medical Lake boyfriend. I fought back a scowl as Frank turned back to me.
“I think it’s going to go beyond just the dance.”
I only nodded as we continued walking to our lockers.
“We’ll walk to the store during lunch, and I will let her buy whatever she wants. Could I borrow a five?”
I reached into my purse and took out a five-dollar bill.
“Are you keeping a running total?”
“Should I?” I asked as I passed the bill to Frank.
“Now I feel guilty.”
“You can make it up to me when I pummel you with the sword.”
“You’re seriously thinking about kicking my ass, aren’t you?”
“A bit.”
“Whatever you do, do not put Anthony’s face on my body.”
“I don’t know,” I replied as I opened my locker. “it feels like that would be a great release.”
“A release would be to scream, write a missive or meditate.”
“Ooh, you’re sounding like my therapist now.” I snarked as I grabbed Frank’s books.
“As much as you hate him, that does sound like pretty good advice. So, if I write it on a piece of paper and stuck it in a fortune cookie, would you listen to said words?”
“You’re going to be late for P.E.”
“Yeah. Thanks, Jo.”
I nodded as I opened the locker below mine and placed Frank’s books inside.
“Hey, Joey!”
I usually ignored anyone who called me Joey or Joseph—which had not happened for quite a while. The hallway became dead quiet as I turned to the sound of a voice that last I heard had asked me to dance.
“Tony Riesche,” I said as I lowered my backpack from off of my shoulder.
“How it’s hanging?”
“It’s a little heavy,” I replied as I held it in my hands.
“I’ll bet.”
“I missed you, Tony.”
“Really?”
“But I won’t now,” I replied as I swung it into his face—allowing the keychains attached to it scratch his face. It worked quite well as his face turned red. First in embarrassment and then in outrage. There was a great chance I was about to get my ass kicked.
But I would regret nothing. It would be worth it.
Escape My Mind by Grace VanderWaal
Spin the record darling
Inside of my mind
And let's just go-go-go
And lose track of time
Here we go, on this crazy ride
Here we go, in this crazy life
And oh-oh
'Cause, cause don't you know?
We're all a little insane sometimes
Anthony took a step back and felt his face. There were two fresh scratches with just a small amount of blood. I had lost my grip of my backpack—so it was halfway down the hallway. I was scared shitless but I was also filled with so much adrenaline that there was no fight or flight in me, only pure spite. I would go down fighting if I had to.
Anthony felt at the blood on his face and took another step back.
“I kind of expected that. That was a good hit. Nice.”
He walked down the hallway and picked up my backpack.
My first thought was that he would take everything out of it and throw various items all over the floor. My second was that he would take it hostage, holding it up and over his head so I could never reach it, while laughing all the way. The third thought was that he would do the same to me as I did to him.
Anthony extended the hand that held my backpack out and handed it to me.
“Sorry,” he whispered and then walked away.
A part of me felt very anti-climactic and the other felt that he had done it on purpose. Kind of a way to test my resolve, study my defenses, and—most likely, to socially gaslight me to the student body who had forgotten what had transpired years ago. Anthony would look like the innocent man who was assaulted by the bitch who had an axe to grind. I took a deep sigh as the on-lookers gawked and fingers pointed in the direction where Anthony walked away.
A few moments later, via the secretary opening the office window and yelling in my direction, I was “summoned” to the principal’s office.
I sat across the table from Anthony with Mr Cain standing at the side.
“Can I ask what the catalyst was?”
I only stared at Anthony’s face; he looked back at me, then at the table, and then to Mr. Cain.
“It’s my fault. I asked for it back in junior high. Joanna just delivered the justice she’s entitled to.”
“I’d love to do a lot more.”
“I’m sure you do,” he replied.
Again, I was engaged because my heart screamed to jump across the table and rip my nails into his face, but my brain overruled as I still thought Tony had an ulterior motive and I would have to weasel it out of him.
“My parents decided to move, I didn’t have much of a choice back then. What would you have had me do, write a long letter? Write an apology that you’d tear into little pieces as soon as you knew it was from me? So, the best thing, when I found out you were still here was to just approach you and accept the roll of the dice.”
I leaned back into the chair and crossed my arms.
“You ripped my dress in front of everyone.”
“It was stupid.”
“Stupid? You’re just so lucky that no one cared.”
“I cared, right after I did it,” Anthony replied and pointed to himself.
“Wow. Perhaps a rapist could use that defense.”
“I deserved that too.”
“Deserved? Yes, yeah you did deserve it, but you never had to live with it. You didn’t go to school the following Monday to everyone snickering, strangers laughing!”
“What would you have had me do, Jo?”
“My name is Joanna! Only my friends can call me Jo! And you are never going to be one, Anthony.” I turned to Mr. Cain. “Can I be excused for class, please?”
“You can, Miss Peterson. Thank you.”
Mr Cain walked to the door and opened it for me. I grabbed my purse and walked out of the office without looking back at Anthony.
I wanted to scream, but I also wanted to let everything slide and to not let the student body see and emotional display of Chernobyl proportions and insinuate something else occurred. It would be best to just let the rumor mill churn something out on its own.
Just as he said, Frank was absent at lunch. We weren’t at the hip or anything but he’d either come back from the store with a few other guys with a bag in his hand or return from the lunchroom with a carton of milk and perch on the side of one of the walls near the library. I felt okay about it. Frank was my friend, not a lover, not a significant other and not a potential boyfriend. However, unlike other friends, which should be enclosed by a huge set of air quotes, Frank was the only one who openly accepted me. The others kept their distance and either ignored me or were the ones whispering things in the darkness.
Of course, our parents ceased letting either of us stay overnight at each other’s house. We could hang around—unattended—during the day but it was like after sundown some magical event would occur and I would be considered a girl and we would be a danger to each other or something. I would have to wonder what Frank’s parents would think about April.
I laid my head against my locker with my knees close to my chest—in order to avoid tripping anyone—and closed my eyes for a bit. I didn’t feel depressed, not at the moment, but I kind of felt abandoned or maybe a bit jealous over April. She was the non auburn-tressed Jolene in my life. Again, Frank was not a boyfriend, but he was a boy who was my friend. A stupid boy at times, but still my friend and with April telling me about her, I guess now, former, boyfriend a few days ago and then, suddenly accepting Frank’s invitation.
I made the decision that if they turned down the corner holding hands with April has a bottle of Dr. Pepper in one hand, and if Frank had a bag with remains of a burrito then I would call her out in front of the student body and ask her about this boyfriend in Medical Lake. I opened my eyes to see the two of them walking close together, but each of their hands holding a bottle of Cherry Coke and a bag with a box of Twix bars sticking out.
April tossed the apparently bottle into the trash and then grabbed onto Frank’s hand.
“Hey, Joanna. Do you want a Twix?” Frank bent down and handed the bag with the box of chocolates to me.
“Thank you.”
April looked at me for a second and then turned back to Frank. “Can you help me with my books?”
“Of course,” Frank replied as he stood back up.
“I’ll put the others in your locker.”
“Thanks, Jo! “ Frank called back.
Perhaps, I’d let her have until the end of the day.
Not that I was jealous of April, not in the slightest. I was thinking about how I would pick up the pieces once again and so wanted to avoid another ‘Erica’ moment.
The Erica in question was a supposed Miss Erica Johnson from Lewis and Clark High School in Spokane. Frank met her at the mall downtown and they talked the entire afternoon. They even went so far as to go to the carousel at Riverfront Park. A few hours later, Frank stomped down the street with his head down and his jacket was missing.
“Where have you been?”
“Can we leave?”
“Sure,” I replied as Frank turned back to the park. “Want to tell me what happened?”
“Not really.”
I nodded as we walked to the parking garage in relative silence…except for Frank grumbling every few seconds.
“I got robbed,” he finally blurted out as we got onto the parking garage elevator. Luckily, no one else was in there.
“At gunpoint?”
“I wish.”
“Then what happened? Knife? Gang?”
“Gang, a gang of three, maybe four.”
“That’s horrible. Do you want to call the police?”
“No, I do not. It’s just a jacket. They wanted my wallet, but it was empty, so they took my jacket instead.”
“What happened to Erica?”
“Erica,” he snorted as the elevator door opened, “I don’t think that was her real name.”
“Wait, Erica robbed you?”
“Yep. She distracted me and three others came up.” Frank replied as he stared blankly ahead.
“Where are your socks?”
“Don’t ask.”
“Too late.”
The elevators door opened, and we walked to the car.
“Kind of wish you were there.”
I nodded as we got into the car.
Frank made a motion to hit the dashboard but stopped short.
“Thank you for not destroying my car.” Frank brooded. One could feel his anger. “Do you want to go back and try to find them? Rough them up a bit?”
“If I ever meet someone like, whoever ‘Erica’ said she was, please do everything you can to make me see the light.”
“That said girl’s a bitch?”
“Yeah. Yeah, that will do,” he replied with a small smile.
“You bring the nunchucks.”
The remains of the school day brought a few looks from members of the student body as they passed by the crime scene from earlier that day with what was either a few drops of blood or ketchup, courtesy of that day’s hamburgers for hot lunch. I looked at the scene out of the corner of my eye and envisioned what I could have done differently. Maybe I could have ignored him…after a full-frontal fingernail assault, of course.
Anthony wasn’t in any of my afternoon classes, but I spent the first five minutes of each period quietly freaking out for the dreadful moment he would walk into the room. There were a few quiet whispers of his name followed by some laughter. I wanted to ignore it. Everything the crowd said behind my back were not always about me..at least that’s what my doctor kept telling me:
“Everyone is not out to get you, Joanna. Think of Anthony Roche as a memory, but not your present. Leave him in your history and go on.” Dr. London stated form across her desk.
She was an older woman, maybe in her late 40’s, and she always a cardigan sweater to her office. I used to think she must hum the theme to ‘Mister Roger’s Neighborhood’ every morning.
“What happens if he comes back?”
“You’ll be ready to face him, if you are ready to face yourself.”
"Insane Sometimes" by Grace VanderWaal
Drive through the street with your eyes closed
Trip on the stick where the wind blows
So out of reach but it looks close
Don't assume what you don't know
I walked out to the parking lot by myself and passed by Anthony on the way. We didn’t look at each other…or at least I didn’t look at him and I did not acknowledge his glance at me. I wanted to tell him off, but I didn’t want to explain to the police or my parents why there was blood all over my fender and what caused the human-like shape on the hood.
It was safer—for him—for me to keep on walking.
Frank stood next to my car, but he had a friend…or should I..girlfriend?
“Jo, can we give April a lift home?”
“Sure,” I replied as I unlocked the doors.
Frank and April got into the backseat and quickly sat too close for comfort. I would have ordered them too put on seatbelts, but one of them would remove them anyway.
I gave a soft sigh as I climbed into the front seat and placed my purse and backpack on the front pasenger seat.
“Where’s your house?” I asked as I turned the engine over.
“It’s up on Hwy 2, before the hill.”
“Deep Creek?”
“Yeah. It’s my grandpa’s.”
I nodded to her reflection in the mirror and gunned the engine. I refused to look at them if I could help it. I still didn’t trust April. Perhaps it was my inner bitch coming out to be seen since she had so much fun earlier with Tony and she wanted to continue with April.
“Wait,” I thought. “Her day may come later.”
I gritted my teeth every time I heard April laugh. It was that high-pitch, blondish, valley girl on vacation laugh that made guys lose a few brain cells. Frank told a few whoppers to her…like how he got into a fight with some guy and performed a foot sweep on him. However, that was done by the long since departed Joseph. Frank then mentioned about a time a gang of three guys taunted him into a fight and he held one in a head lock. It was a half-truth, as there were three of them, and Frank had thrown the first punch after the fattest guy of the trio pushed him. However, I was the one who had placed the supposed leader of the pack in a head lock and threatened to twist his head off.
“You were saving your friend?”
“Saving both of us,” Frank replied as he looked into the mirror at me.
My expression read: “we’re going to be talking about this”
We turned off the highway and onto a gravel road that was clear of snow and ice, like someone had deliberately treated it up to a point; and that point was at April’s grandparents. Frank got out, held the door open for her, and said goodbye to her with a short and awkward hug. He then circled around the car, moved my backpack and purse to the backseat, and then sat in the seat.
He waved to her as we backed out.
“So, when is the wedding?”
“You feel that too?” Frank asked as he buckled his seatbelt.
“No, I see it in your eyes. You’re making plans in your head that would make a great a young adult novel.”
Frank nodded.
“Speaking of works of fiction.”
“I know. I know," he replied and put his hands up to his face to block what could have been a heavy punch if I wasn’t driving.
“How many impossible feats of strength did you tell her about?”
“Not a lot, didn’t want to seem I was made up of just bravado.”
“You mean you don’t want to look like a conceited jerk?” I asked with mock surprise.
“I know it’s surprising, Jo, but I’m actually listening to you about this relationship.”
“There’s a first time for everything,”
“What about you?”
“Don’t care,” I replied as we turned back onto the main road and I gunned the engine up the hill.
“Let’s make a modest proposal,” Frank said with a rhythmic slap to his knees.
“To do what?”
“For you to go to Winterfest.”
“This sounds like a ‘heads you win, tails I lose’ kind of ‘proposal’, as you put it.”
“I do know of someone who wants to take you.”
“I think you’ve told enough fables today, Aesop.”
“I’m willing to say I can win a sparring match with you.”
“I definitely know I’ll be spending a relaxing night at home on that Saturday night.”
Fifteen minutes later we arrived at Frank’s house and immediately went down to the basement where there was a large room with wrestling mats on most of the floor. The other half was filled with weight-lifting equipment and an assortment of wooden swords. We were only allowed to use two of them as the reset were Mr. Russo’s. We took off our shoes and Frank handed over one of the swords.
“What are the rules?”
“A successful disarm,” he replied, “And I don’t just mean the sword.”
“What?” I asked as Frank swung at my face. I flashed my own up to block the strike and the wood vibrated my arms from the force of the hit.
Frank swung again to the chest and I blocked it again.
“What the Hell, Frank?”
“Looks who’s rusty?” He replied with a smirk.
“Keep talking!” I swung back wildly and my hair blinded my view.
Frank took a step to the side and swung again with the impact knocking the swords from our hands. I side-stepped and then tried to knock Frank down with a wrestling move I still remembered from years ago, but he countered and I fell to the mat. At that moment, I lost any form of sentience as I tried to grab onto him but failed as Frank circled around, wrapped his arms around my upper body, lifted me off the floor and then adjusted his arms to put me in a headlock. He turned his head to me and I could feel his breath on my face and it tickled my ear enough to shock me into submission. Frank threw me to the mat and pinned me down.
“You should wear green.”
“You cheated!”
“How? I said the rules were a successful disarm and not just the sword, remember?”
Frank hovered above me and released his grip on my arms but didn’t move.
“I’d say we redo.”
“We don’t do redos.”
“Then get off of me before I kick you.”
Frank sprung to his feet and held his hands out to help me up. “You should use that on Tony.”
“Sure, let’s bring him to your house, give him a sword and then do a sucker-punch of a move on him.” I used Frank’s arms to vault back up to my feet.
“That’s tempting, Jo. No one would hear him scream.”
“So illegal. I like it,” I replied.
“We’ll need to coordinate our story if the police ever ask.”
“What if we just kidnap him and take him into the forest?”
“You may be onto something. I remember this guy’s car was found off the road and his body wax never found…at least not in one piece.”
“Murdered?”
“Maybe, but the bears weren’t going to snitch on another.”
“Okay, as much as I absolutely hate him, murder and manslaughter are off the table.
“That leaves criminal negligence on the table.”
I kind of didn’t want to answer that.
Damn, you're so beautiful
And don't you know it?
Don't you? Don't you?
I think you do.
Who do you think you are?
Damn, you're so beautiful
And don't you know it?
Don't you? Don't you?
I know you do.
I sat in the den with my textbooks out and the TV off. I kind of wanted to throw my books across the room in anger for Frank beating me because I was actually frozen by the feeling of his breath on my skin. I thought how it would have been if I had worn a full-faced helmet.
“He has April,” I said aloud.
“Who has April? Frank?” Julie asked as she walked into the room.
“Not your business, Julie,” I replied as I continued writing.
“Oh, so he’s looking at another girl and not at you?”
“We’ve never crossed that line.”
“Why not?”
I laid my notebook down and looked at my older sister who stared at me.
“I think he likes you. In fact, I am one hundred and ten percent sure of it.”
“Yes, we’re friends, so yes, he likes me.”
“I’m thinking more.”
“You keep thinking that,” I replied as I picked my notebook up.
“You should ask him to Winterfest. Tell April to take a hike. She’s a freshman, isn’t she?”
“Sophomore,” I tried to continue writing but ended up writing out ‘Tell April to take a hi-‘
“Look, Joanne, I know you never took any of my advice in the past.”
“The only advice you ever gave me was to not go into your room.”
“And by what you’re wearing, you didn’t listen to that either.”
“Fine,’ I replied as placed my pen on my ear, closed my notebook and dropped it next to me on the couch. “Lay it on me”
“You need to ask Frank to Winterfest. You can wear my green dress.”
I threw my head back in frustration. “What is it with this stupid dance? Maybe I should set a date for Prom too?”
“Yeah, you should,” Julie replied.
“It doesn’t work that way.”
“Hey, I’m not mom or dad, so, feel free to tell me everything, petite soeur.”
“There’s nothing to tell….what did you say?”
“Little sister.”
“That’s funny coming from you.”
“True, a few years ago we’d be at each other’s throats.”
“We were.”
Julie nodded in agreement. “Well, we’re in the here and now, and we have work to do.”
“You’re right. I have chemistry,” I said and held up my notebook.
“Have you thought about styling your hair?”
“Nope.”
“I’d think you’d look beautiful, if not to Frank then every other guy in school.”
I replied with a sole snort.
“Why not?”
“Because, there are a lot of people who suddenly remember ‘Joanna and the Amazing Technicolor Dress Rip’.”
“The what?”
I closed my textbook and took a deep breath. “Anthony Riesche is back at Reardan.”
“Who?”
“The guy who tore the dress I wore in junior high”
“Sorry I wasn’t there to do something about it.”
“What would you’ve done, throttle a fourteen year old?”
“Maybe.”
“Get in line.”
Julie took a few steps closer. “Okay, so I’m thinking you should part your hair to the right and we need to work on your make-up.”
“I’ve been doing fine for the past four years.”
“I know. I know, but…but let’s try something different.”
I closed my eyes and tried to get on the “she’s trying to help you” train instead of jumping in front of it. “Okay, just one time.”
“We have so much we can do.”
“I’m not doing your little makeover session to have anyone, especially Frank, staring at me.”
“You will when we’re done.”
I shook my head, packed my books up into my backpack and ran out of them room. I wanted to be tied to the tracks in front of said on-coming train.
“Jo!”
“Look,” I yelled back as I put a foot on the first staircase step. “I have done quite well for myself while you were vonTrapping across Europe!”
“I understand. I also understand that if I was here I would’ve tried to steer you away from what you were trying to do…for your own good.”
“My own good?” I screamed as the front door opened to my parents stepping in.
“Joanna, we can hear you from the driveway,” Mom stated.
“We’re just hashing over something that should have happened sooner.”
“I am who I am. Don’t try to psychoanalyze me because I’ve become an expert in myself. I have fought to live this way. You weren’t here for the hazing and if you were, you’d be first in line to march me back into the closet!”
“Not without a fight.”
“You are damn right!”
“Good, you’re fired up.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Il faut battre le fer pendant qu’il est chaud!”
“Who the hell is Chad?” I screamed. I was irritated from the morning up until that moment and the thought of throwing my backpack at Julie was just below the surface of my dark ocean of a mind.
“Let’s start now.”
“Start what?” Dad asked.
“Julie wants to rearrange my face.”
“-And hair,” Julie stated with a slight nod.
“It sounds like a good idea,” Mom replied with Dad taking a few steps back to avoid the drama.
“Whatever,” I replied as I stomped upstairs.
“Try this,” Julie reached into a large caddy and pulled out a small bottle.
“What is it?”
“À cœur perdu.”
She pressed a button and I think she sprayed the entire contents onto me.
“It’s too strong.”
“A little goes a long way.”
“They’re going to know I’m coming form a mile away.”
“That’s the idea,” Julie replied with a Cheshire Cat inspired grin. “Where do you go to cut your hair?”
“I do it myself,” I replied as Julie picked through my hair.
“We should take you to a salon.”
“I’d rather not.”
“Why?”
“Because they will want to make me into someone else. It’s too fake.”
“Don’t think it like that,” Julie rustled with something in a box of hair care stuff that I hoped she either just bought or was borrowing from Mom. “Think about it like a play, like a Broadway show.”
“Why?”
“Because sometimes it works to have your name in lights and let people see you like a burning torch.”
“My eyes feel like torches from that perfume.”
“Hmm…I think you could be allergic to it.”
“You think about that now?” I replied as I made a mad dash to the sink.
“Don’t mess up your face!”
I turned the water on but looked at my reflection in the mirror and saw myself…I mean, the version of myself I always dreamed of. I took care of my skin and hair, but seldom did I try to make myself look “pretty” on purpose. It was best to not try to draw so much attention to myself for fear of walking down the hall and seeing Tony appear. So, why I would never say I was “cute” but I also wouldn’t say I was trying out the part of Medusa in a Greek tragedy.
The tragedy of the moment was looking at the Joanna in the mirror and wondering why I never let her out. She would be there knocking on the door and I had no idea how to answer her. And now, there she was, in all her splendor
“Ur So Beautiful” by Grace vanderWaal
Every now and then
The darkness tries to chase me
And my legs are getting tired of running
Ohh, please don't,
Please don't let it get to me
Ohhh, I don't want to give up that easily
But the darkness keeps chasing me, me
“You look nice this morning.”
“I blame all of this on Julie.”
“Is that perfume?”
“Don’t go there,” I ordered with a finger point to his chest.
“Still looks good,” he replied as we backed out of the driveway. “Can we pick April up?”
The thought of hitting her with my car zipped into my mind and left as fast as it flew in. “Sure. How late did you stay up talking with her?”
“Eh, I think it after midnight.”
“What do talk about for so long?”
I could imagine they played that ridiculous game of ‘I’m going to hang up now…’ back and forth ad infinitum.
“What? We used to talk for hours about everything.”
“And?”
“And…we talked about, you know, stuff.”
Yeah, we used to talk on for hours and hours about nothing in particular: from cartoons to hockey.
“I assume she’s not into wrestling?”
“Not yet, but we’re working on the difference between ‘rasslin and wrestling. She talked about the dress she was going to get for Winterfest.”
I nodded and after a long pause I looked at Frank.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You lost.”
“You cheated.”
“From a certain point of view.”
“First off, you’re not Obi-wan Kenobi and second-”
“Second, don’t be surprised if someone asks you out today?”
“Who?”
“Do I detect an inquiring mind?”
“No, you detect walking to school with April.”
“I’m willing to do that, so are you willing to accept if someone, you know, talks to you?”
“Are you paying them?”
“Joanna, I’m just saying you need to go out and be more…you.”
I squinted my eyes and looked back at Frank. “Define: you.”
“I mean, okay, the hair and make-up, which, again, looks great on you, and you have to admit that you want someone to notice you. You want that dream date.”
“Is Justin Timberlake coming to town?”
“Daydream date then.”
“I have put some thought into it, Frank, I really have. But, I don’t think my quote, dream date, goes to Reardan.”
“Kay, how about the three of us go bowling in town and you meet someone there.”
“Bowling?”
“Yes.”
“Are you going to actually bowl or just attempt to study April’s tonsils?”
“Study her ton…? Shut up.”
“You went there.”
“I just gave a suggestion for you to go and meet people.”
“While wearing ugly shoes around weighted balls.”
“You said weighted balls.”
“Settle down, Beavis.”
We went back and forth about the places we used to think would be a great place to pickup up girls and would go in the entirely opposite direction.
“Oh, I know a place.”
“Where?” I actually tried to hide my emotions and almost got away with it.
“Roller skating.”
“No thank you.”
“C’mon, Jo, you love roller skating.”
“Blading. I like roller blading, which is not allowed at the rink.”
Frank shrugged as we turned down the street to April’s house. If I had to take her home this afternoon, she’d assume I was her personal chauffeur. I almost asked Frank about it but he lowered the window and yelled out.
“April!”
She waved to him and walked up to meet us. Frank got out of the front and opened the backseat door form her.
“Hello, Joanna.”
“Hey, April,” I replied with a quick smile.
Frank closed the front door and then got in the backseat next to April.
“How are you this morning?” Frank asked.
“I’m great. A little tired, thanks to you.”
“I wasn’t going to hang up until you did.”
“And then we’d find something new to talk about and an hour later, we’re still trying to end the call” April replied with s giggle.
“I’ll stay up all night with you if you want.”
I looked at them in my rear-view mirror. They were way too close to each other for my comfort. April would laugh and smile at everything Frank said. The laughs sounded like the flirty, but fake kind. The hey, I’m going to be nice to this loser for the time being tone of voice. The tone teenage guys never can hear; a dog whistle of death hidden behind platitudes and sexuality. I wondered if she knew I, too, was fluent in bitch.
We arrived at school, and they were still talking about anything and everything. I almost turned the radio on, which was something I never did as I couldn’t stand any of the morning DJ’s but there were a few times I had to think what sort of prattle I really wanted to hear that morning. I settled on hearing the two of them to learn more about April…besides her saying she wanted to be a teacher and hated burritos and roller skating. Frank looked at my eyes in the mirror upon that revelation.
“Do you like to bowl?” He asked as he opened the door.
“I do.”
“We should go sometime this week, if you like.”
“I’d like that. Now, I admit, I have to get to first place a little early, so I’ll meet you at break, ok?”
“You got it” Frank replied before she kissed him on the cheek and then ran to the school.
“Just a few cuddles and a peck on the cheek?”
“Yeah, as much as I’m ‘interested in her tonsils’, as you say.”
“And we both know you are.”
“Beside the point.” Frank said with a snort.
“And exactly what is the point?” I inquired as I grabbed my bag and purse; then locked the doors.
“Okay, I’ll show you.”
Frank walked around the car to the driver’s side.
“Give me your hands.”
I lashed my backpack and purse to my shoulders and put out out my hands like I was ready to punch someone.
“Neutral position, Chuck. Like this.”
He laid his hands out flat, and I copied him.
Frank then took a hold of my hands and looked into my face. “I want to tell her how important she is to me. I want it to last. I want to be able squeeze her hands and gaze into her eyes and see her looking back at me.
I felt my heart racing and I didn’t want it to end. In fact, I wanted to do as he suggested but he was just describing what he wanted to do with April, and I was just her proxy.
He then came closer, moving our hands to allow so we almost touching noses.
“And when the time comes, I’ll tell her I love her.”
“When do you see that happening?”
“Not sure,” he replied as he let go of my hands and stepped back. “But if tell her, I’ll be forced to use drastic measure.”
“Such as? I asked as I tried to control the flushing in my cheeks.
“I’ll give Carson your phone number.”
“He already has a date,” I answered as we started walking to the school.
“Is it Amy?’
“No.”
“Christy?”
“Nope.”
“Am I sensing some jealousy? Do you like Carson?”
“I don’t exactly ‘hate’ him; and maybe if he did ask me, I’d go.”
“You don’t say?” Frank asked with a slight grin.
“No, you are not going to say anything to him.”
“Joanna and Carson, sittin’ in a tree…”
We walked into the crowded hallway and to our lockers. Neither of us spoke about anything for a few seconds but during those brief moments my heart wanted to carve out an amazing future. We already bickered like an old married couple already. However, my brain took control and shook all of those thoughts out of mind as I unloaded my backpack, gathered my books and handed Frank my chemistry book, which was filled with my sister’s notes scrawled in the margins.
“Do you have a dollar, Jo?”
“Getting a donut for you and April?”
“Uhh, yeah. Can you add it to my tab?”
I nodded, reached into my purse and handed him a dollar.
“Thank you. I’ll talk to Carson for you,” he replied as he ran down the hall.
“That will be the last thing you do!” I yelled. Frank put his left hand up and waved back at me.
“Good morning, Joanna,” a voice said that sent a slight chill down my back.
“Anthony.” I shouldn’t have said anything nor turned around, but I did anyway.
Anthony looked at my face and his eyes then went a bit south for a second before he looked at my face again.
“You look good.”
“Thank you,” I replied with a flat tone of voice.
“Can I walk with you to class?”
“Whatever,” I replied as I closed my locker. Anthony kept his distance but hovered by my right side.
“We should talk.”
“Nothing to talk about.”
“Then can I do the talking?”
“Speak, then,” I replied with an eye roll.
“I told my parents what happened yesterday, and they agreed with you that I deserved it and a lot more.”
I nodded.
“What I mean, Joanna, is that there’s nothing I can do about what happened in the past. I can’t turn back time and stop myself from doing what I did. I won’t expect forgiveness, but I’d like it if I could stand at my locker and not get randomly cold-clocked.”
“I can work with you on that, Anthony.”
“My friends call me Tony.”
“Let’s stay with proper names right now, Anthony.”
We arrived at the classroom door.
Anthony stopped and allowed me to go in first. He was probably doing that in order to stare at my ass.
I keep only seeing rain
I will say no
But you keep crawling in my brain
I wanna get lost, run away
In the dark is where I will stray
“Where’s April?” I asked as Frank carried a donut in each hand.
“She should be coming down the hall right now.”
We looked down the hall to try and see her.
“I heard Anthony tried to talk to you.”
“Yep,” I replied as I laid my books in my locker.
“Congratulations for not pummeling him this morning.”
“Didn’t cross my mind. And as long as long as he doesn’t bother me then I don’t care what he does.”
“Very mature of you, Jo,” Frank replied with double pat to my shoulder.
“Thank you. There she is.”
Frank held up one of his donut-laden hands to flag April down, as if she couldn’t see him.
“Your rosquilla, mi señorita,” He bowed down to one knee and handed the pastry over to her.
“He means it, that’s the best Spanish I’ve ever heard from him.”
“Thank you. Jelly-filled?”
“Bavarian cream. You gotta get there early to get the best.”
“You’re always going to be thinking about me, aren’t you?”
“Of course. In fact, if you want both of these donuts, you may have them,”
“I want us to have one each.”
“As you wish,” Frank replied as looked to the floor. “What is that?”
The three of us looked at a folded piece of paper that had, apparently, fallen out of my locker. I picked it up and pleaded in my mind that it did not have my name on it...alas.
I wanted to just throw it away without looking at Perhaps flinging it into the nearest trash can like a shuriken, but someone could eventually find it. If only I smoked, then I could light it on fire.
“I hate notes like this.”
“I thought girls loved loved sending and receiving those.”
“Not I. You can’t open one without everyone knowing.”
“Mr. Acuff once told Nola to open one in class.”
“How did that go?” April asked as I began opening the folds.
“It was blank. You know, maybe it was written in invisible ink?”
I rolled my eyes at that. I couldn’t think of anyone in our school who would put in THAT much effort. That being said, whoever sent this one to me deserved kudos for their origami skills.
“You know what this means, Jo?”
“It means someone has a lot of time on their hands.”
“No, it must be an admirer. I’ll bet it’s a ‘MASH’ note.”
“Swell, a seventh-grade suitor.”
I had the note down to the final fold and could see something was glued onto the paper. I could feel butterflies in my stomach, and I could feel face flushing with anticipation. I wanted to think it was from someone who liked me. Perhaps they were afraid about what others would say or maybe they were a member of the introvert club. There was always room for another member.
I opened the note and tried to decipher the magazine-clipped letters as they were kind of jumbled around. I read the note and lowered my head down.
“Happy news?”
“No,” I replied as I gave it to him.
“‘The tranny dies.’ That son of a bitch.” Frank handed the note back to me.
“You think it was Tony too?”
“Can’t think of anyone else. Let’s go kick his ass.”
“Frank, wait, wait!” April called.
I did not look back to see if Frank was behind me or if he stayed with April. I didn’t really care and maybe it was better if he didn’t assist me as we were about to go overboard on Anthony.
I stomped past the restrooms and down to the end of the hallway where Anthony stood next to his locker.
“What the hell, Anthony!”
His eyes were wide as saucers as I shoved the almost now crumpled note into his face,
“I don’t know. I-”
I didn’t give him a chance to respond as I punched him the stomach and then slammed him against the locker. The hallway fell silent as I hit him again.
“I didn’t write anything, I swear!”
I hit him in the shoulder. I was aiming for his face, but he had moved over.
Anthony refused to put his hands up against me, but it didn’t stop two other guys from stepping in and grab my arms.
“Let her go!” Anthony barked through a coughing fit.
The two let my arms go and stepped back,
“Come on, Anthony, you little fan club has your back, you them.”
Anthony looked down the hall to see Mr. Cain approach with a crowd of students. I could see Frank still standing near April at the other end of the hall.
“Mr. Riesche and Miss Peterson. My office, Now,” Mr, Cain ordered. I straightened my dress, flipped my hair away from my face and walked on the opposite side of Anthony. The crowds parted like the Red Sea until we got to the office door.
“Were we not doing this just yesterday?” Mr. Cain asked as he sat in his chair.
Anthony nodded.
I kept my eyes staring at the table.
“This note. Did you write it, Mr. Riesche?”
“No sir, I swear I did not. I don’t even know how to fold something like this.”
“You paid someone to make it,” I muttered.
“I didn’t do anything. I am telling you the truth. I have no reason to do, say, or cause anything for her, Mr. Cain.”
“Liar,” I replied as I glared at him.
“Miss Peterson, you cannot just physically attack a fellow student without provocation.”
“Next time I’ll use an emotional attack, hmm?” I asked Anthony.
“Mr. Cain, I don’t want anyone to have any trouble. Just let her go back to class and I’ll deal with whatever you want me to do.”
“You admit to sending it?” I asked as I stood up and leaned over the table.
“No, but if it will make you feel better, I’ll take the punishment of starting the fight.”
Mr. Cain looked back and forth between the two of us. “Miss Peterson, you may go on to third period.”
“Thank you,” I replied as I walked out of the office.
The hall was quiet as I gathered my books. I looked around, hoping to see Frank so I could tell him off for not helping me and then scream that I was proud I could handle myself. I may have made a few enemies, the ones who would come to Anthony’s defense, and I would take them all on if I had to.
“I’m sorry, Jo, but you were already kicking his ass, so I stepped back.”
“I did, didn’t I?”
“You should go out for wrestling.”
“Where’s your shadow?”
“She said she had to go to her next class, as we need to.”
“It was a great punch, wasn’t it?”
‘Mike Tyson would have approved.” Frank replied as we walked down the hall,
I felt so much more relieved than I had the day before. It was like I got a second chance to let Anthony taste all of the piss and vinegar I had stored in so long about him. Maybe my therapist would shake her head, scowl and then scribble something on my charts but I could at least smile during our next session.
Just blow out the candles
Oh little boy, when will you learn?
You don't play with fire
Unless you wanna get burned
Wanna get burned
The brawl in the hall was the top subject from a lot of mouths. Some embellishments were made. I did not know how to perform a shoryuken and Anthony did not pin me against the wall only for me to vault over him. I got a few glares and a few asking why I didn’t try out for wrestling, but I waved them off.
“Hey, Joanna,”
I turned to see Steven Lansing standing by my side.
“Hey, Steve,” I replied as I walked to my next class.
“Did you want to go to Winterfest with me?”
I didn’t really know Steve. I knew of him: he played Trumpet in band, was on the basketball team, and he was known as a charmer to almost every girl in the school. He also had a short temper when things didn’t go his way, so for all of his good qualities, they were all pushed out the window when things got heated. Knowing that, I decided to let him down gently.
“I’m flattered, Steve, I really am, but I’m not into dances.”
“Is there anything I could do to change your mind?”
If I didn’t know that a few of his dates ended in yelling and screaming I would have accepted his invite in s split second.
“How about I give you some time? No pressure.”
I agreed to that as it was highly likely he’d find someone who was just as narcissistic or someone who loved to deal with the emotionally over-challenged.
Steve wave goodbye and then stopped as I walked into a classroom.
I thought about what Frank had said earlier that day and if Steve Lansing was my only choice for Winterfest, then I’d stay home and read a book. I knew better than to assume just because I was wearing a dress and gussied up a bit that everyone would be throwing themselves at my feet. Maybe I wanted to go, but not as the last person picked out of the line-up, not as a “pity choice” and at that time, I considered any person who just wanted to go to a dance as just that. I didn’t want an emotional stranger in my personal space, pretending we knew how to dance, and worrying if they’ll want more from me than I was willing to give.
I bit my lip as that stupid Anthony had robbed me of my trust in others. I could have still been a wallflower, but I would be one who was not afraid to be who she was. Frills, bows, those shoes that cost an arm and a leg—I could have come to school being proud of myself. Instead, I went to wearing only jeans, a few blouses and other shirts hidden behind flannels or my jacket. I never fought anyone while wearing what could be considered teenage sparring gear, but on the day, I decided to wear a dress I’m involved in a brawl. Stupid Anthony.
“Joanna,”
I looked up to see Zach Newcomb, who sat in the seat in front of me, turned to look at me. We didn’t talk, even if he wanted to know an answer to a question. He would shout to someone in the back before asking me. He was one of the guys in the school who remembered what happened long ago and would at me in disgust. I don’t think he ever said anything about me to anyone, but his body language gave off strong vibes that he didn’t like me. There were a few times I wanted to know how I pissed him off because if memory serves, I was the one who embarrassed and humiliated, not him.
“Can I ask you a question?”
I blinked at him as I contemplated exactly what he was going to ask me. Was he going to comment about the dress? Was he going to make some witty observation about my bust size? Or was he simply going to ask why I still breathing? Again, no one ever said anything to my face, but I thought that if one person—other than Anthony—would be a problem for me, it would be Zach Newcomb.
“Did Steve talk to you?”
“About what?”
“Winterfest.”
“Yes, he did,” I replied and quickly prayed he would not ask ‘did you say yes’.
“Did you say yes?”
“I did not. I don’t like dances.” I turned back to my textbook as the teacher walked into the room.
“How about going with me? We can talk about it after class.”
Zach turned to face forward, leaving me with an incredulous look on my face.
I caught up with Frank and April as they walked out of the school on their way to slack to the small store down the street to get lunch.
“Did you send Steve and Zach, Frank?”
“I did not, why?”
“Because they asked me to Winterfest.”
“Both of them?” April asked as she visibly squeezed Frank’s hand.
“Yes.”
“What did you say?” Frank asked as he looked to April and smiled.
“I declined both of them. Zach took a little more…explaining than Steve did.”
“Probably good thing you did.”
“Okay, so stating that, you didn’t know anything about them?”
“They were not the proverbial guy I had on my list.”
I glared at Frank and then looked toward. “Proverbial?”
“I’m still working on it.”
“Don’t. Just stop at whatever you were thinking about. I’m not going to go.”
Frank and April stopped.
“You’re seriously not going to go if I find the right guy.”
“Unless you have Mark Wahlberg’s number on speed dial, then no, I’ll just stay home and play a few games on a PlayStation I bought last week.
“Oh yeah, can you pay me five dollars towards that game you bought?”
“Yeah, I’ll pay it all, I forgot.” I reached into my purse, pulled out a twenty, and haded it to Frank. Our eyes locked and he mouthed “thank you.”
“I’ll head back.”
“Jo, did you want anything from the store?”
I shook my head and walked back to the high school. I had no good reason to accompany them to the store, only to irritate April. I didn’t like her, and I suspected she did not like me due to my friendship with her boyfriend—one that was deeper and longer than the two relationships she apparently had with Frank and the other guy in Medical Lake. I still felt bad for not talking about it but I knew it would end badly no matter what I said.
Anthony stood on the side of the hallway, talking with others when I walked into school. The conversation stopped for a second as everyone in the group, sans Anthony, glanced at me.
“Whatever,” I thought to myself as I walked past them and walked to soda machine. I had a dollar left to get a Dr Pepper as my sole form of nourishment for the day. The can clacked and clunked as it hit the bottom of the machine. I made an attempt to pick up the drink but was interrupted by a hand that reached in and grabbed it. I looked up to see Steve holding onto the can with Zach standing next to him.
“Do you want to back?” Steve asked as he took a few steps back from the main hall,
“You can have it,” I replied, as I wasn’t going to play his game.
“Too good for us, are you, eh?”
“No, it’s called I wouldn’t go anywhere with either one of you. You’re a narcissist,” I pointed at Steve and then at Zach, “and you’ve always been creepy.”
Steve shook the can and then opened it. The soda sprayed everywhere.
“Really?” I yelled as I felt the sticky liquid all over my skin.
“Yeah, fake bitch,” Zach retorted as he grabbed my arm. “Think some dress makes you a girl?”
“I don’t need to prove anything to you.”
“Let’s check, Zach,” Steve nodded to Zach, and he pulled my arms back. Steve ripped the straps from the dress and ripped it further. He stopped for a brief moment as the fabric fell and I was exposed.
“Plastic?” Zach asked.
Steve nodded as he reached out and rubbed his hand on my left side.
“No feeling at all,” Steve replied.
“Let me go and you’ll feel something!” I yelled.
Zach let go of my arms but then dug knee into my leg so I couldn’t recover in time to avoid a punch to the chest and face, courtesy of Steve.
There were a few passersby who had stopped in their tracks at what was happening. Several girls screamed and a few guys shied their eyes or looked like someone had punched them instead. No one said anything to stop them as they continued to pummel on me. I could have taken them on, Bushido style, but two against one wasn’t fair.
“Let her go, God dammit!” Anthony roared as he ran down the hall.
Steve and Zach dropped me to the floor and once again, my dress was ripped off me.
I didn’t want to look at Anthony, nor did I want to cover myself up, as the shock of that day had come up and I started hyper-ventilating.
“I am going to kick both of your asses!” Anthony hissed as Steve and Zach ran off. “Joanna, look at me, please.” Anthony kneeled down, took off his jacket and laid it over me.
“Go and get help now!”
I wanted to say ‘thank you’ to Anthony but I was not in any physical shape to try.
“Joanna, I need you to look at me. Track my index finger, okay?”
I nodded but then closed my eyes.
A doll made out of glass
All her friends think that she's great
But I can see through it all
And she's about to break.
“I can’t believe this,” Dad muttered as he paced the floor. Mom and Julie stood next to the flat, cold and uncomfortable ER bed. “Are parents raising kids or rabid dogs?”
“Then should be expelled,” Julie quipped.
“I’ll go further, arrested. All three of them.”
“I like your idea, Dad,”
“It was only two,” I whispered. “Just two. Not Tony.”
The three looked at me like maybe I had sustained brain damage to go along with my bruised ribs, neck and arms.
“He was there, everyone said he was.”
“He was trying to get them to stop,” I replied as I felt every nerve in my body scream out due to the pain of my injuries and the horrify feeling of lying on a metal hospital bed covered with paper sheets and a pillow with maybe one feather in it.
Dad shook his head and Mom did too.
“I‘ll go talk to him,” Julie volunteered. “What doe he look like?”
It was then my turn to shake my head. “I’ll deal with it.”
“You’re not dealing with anything,” Dad replied with a stern tone to his voice. “I’m going to the school now and find out what happened.”
“It wasn’t Tony,” I pleaded as Dad left.
“Who was it?” Mom asked.
“Two morons. I don’t know why they started it. I see them everyday and then today, this happens.”
I wanted to get up, brush off the proverbial dust, and walk out of there like I owned the world but instead, I cracked and bawled my heart out. It was just like the dance. It was that dark day in eighth grade all over again. Fully exposed once again to the world.
Why did it have to happen again? Was there always going to be someone, somewhere, ready to assault me over and over again? I thought I was in a place that should offered protection from danger in junior high and high school but that just wasn’t true. I’d have to hire a bodyguard or enroll in an actual martial arts class and carry a katana disguised as an umbrella. You grow up thinking the minor things can be plucked from your memory. You recall only the good until it happens again, and it feels like that’s your life from there on out. No matter what you do, someone will always be there to give you the middle finger and attempt to destroy you.
I regret I felt that way, like giving up on everything and living in a shell. A shell cloaked by all the powers welled-up from the unknown reaches of the universe. In doing so, I’d avoid any pain, and no one would have to look at me. Perhaps being an empty shell would have been a better choice.
Mom and Julie took turns sitting in a very uncomfortable chair and leaning against the wall as nurses and orderlies came in to wheel me over for a CT scan, where it was eventually confirmed those two morons had sprained my right arm and gave slight fracture to my left leg that required a cast. I was unhappy with both as it meant I was unable to do just about anything for a few days which was to be a painful experience.
Frank drove my car to the house and went over the incident with everyone. I was sprawled out on a couch in the smaller front room, off from the living room and overlooking the driveway.
“Steve and Zach are in it deep.”
“They’ll be in deeper tomorrow,” Dad replied.
Frank nodded.
“What about Tony?” I asked.
“Yeah, he kicked their asses, excuse me,” Frank looked to my dad, who, waved it off. “He was pissed for the rest of the day.”
“I still think he had something to do it,” Julie said and then took a sip of coffee from a large cup.
“I thought that too, at first, but Steve and Zach said they were paid to do it.”
“Paid? What? The farm town mafia?” Julie yelled, nearly spitting out said coffee.
“They each got typed out notes and some cash. At least that’s what’s been said,” Frank said with a shrug. “No one has an idea on who wrote them.”
“We’ll find out more,” My dad replied as he shook his head.
“Oh, you did some damage. Steve’s got a pretty good gash across his face.”
“I don’t remember doing anything like that.”
“My dad is willing to give you some advanced fighting training if you want.”
“I do.”
“Joanna Annette Peterson. kicking ass and taking names.”
“That’s enough, Julie,” mom replied.
“Can I talk with Frank, privately, please?”
Everyone else nodded and left the front room.
“So no one knows?
“It may all be just a huge rumor, Jo, but Steve’s kind of a butthead and Zach follows him like Beavis so I think it’s possible.”
“What else do you know?”
“Tony wants to know where you live. I didn’t tell him anything.”
“I don’t think he was a part of it.”
“I agree with you, since he was so upset. Either that or he needs to be a part of the drama club.”
Frank sat down in the chair next to the couch,
“How long are you in the cast?”
“No idea.”
“Can you drive?”
“Julie’s going to take us to school on Monday.”
“Great. That’s good to hear that you’ll be back on Monday. Should I say anything if anyone asks about you?”
“No one who really cares is going to ask about me, Frank.”
“Tony?”
“Okay, one person,” I replied with a dismissive wave.
“All your teachers?”
“That reminds me, can you get my homework assignments?”
“You were in a brutal two-on-one fight, and you want me to get your homework?”
I nodded.
Frank reached into his pocket and pulled out a waded up piece of paper. “Of course you do. I got a few of your teachers to give me some page numbers and a worksheet or two.”
“Are the worksheets in your other pocket?” I asked as he handed the paper to me.
“No, sorry I left them in my locker…in fact, kind of left everything after they let me take your purse and drive your car back.
“How does it feel to get behind the wheel?”
“I want my own. I’m going to start working this spring.”
I nodded but then started crying.
Frank kneeled down. “Hey, Jo, talk to me, ‘kay?”
“I thought I was going to die today,” I whispered hoarsely.
“I was worried you were too, and I wanted to take a few hits on Steve and Zach but they were detained by the sheriff and Mr. Cain, so they got off, for today. I’m sure your dad’s going to take them down a level or two.”
“It was like the eighth grade again, Frank.”
“I’m sorry, Joanna.”
“Exposed.”
“No, Tony pretty much covered you up and yelled for towels. No one with half a brain or a heart found it funny.”
“Until next week.”
“And once your leg’s healed up, you can show them what they can do with their stupid comments.”
I nodded, but still felt horrible about it all. I had such a different experience than what Frank said happened. It was like a terribly focused movie.
“Tony may want to help you. Do you want me to tell him where you live?”
“No, but can you get his phone number for me?”
“You want me to ask Tony for his phone number for you?”
“Yes, I’d rather talk on the phone then have him know where I live in.
“That’s a great way to pick up guys.”
“Shut up, Frank,” I replied.
“Ooh, I see the fire has returned. Welcome back, soldier.”
I admit, I had to kind of smile at that.