thought I fainted. This was still before high school. Before puberty or panic or peers made the whole situation worse. Before I turned from strange to psycho.
I switched off the flashlight while I waited for her to say something. Darkness swallowed the room. There was a long silence. Tears filled my eyes. I was glad I’d turned off the flashlight.
“That’s really weird, Sylvie.” When she finally did talk, her voice sounded hollow and a little freaked out. “But a little cool, too.”
“No,” I said. “Not cool. But weird, yes.”
“I think it might be good sometimes to faint or leave your body or whatever. To just ... forget everything for a minute.” She paused. “I’d like that.”
“You don’t forget anything.”
“But when you ... faint ... you always look so ... relaxed.”
“Relaxed? No. Not after.” My words were a hoarse whisper. “Everyone thinks I’m schizoid. Maybe I am. Be glad your life is normal.”
“Normal.” Cassie let out a strangled laugh. It sounded sad and broken. And a few moments later I heard her start to cry.
I didn’t ask her what was wrong. I didn’t need to. Instead, I reached towards her in the darkness. My fingers found her sleeping bag and her skin. She slipped her hand into mine.
“I love you,” I whispered.
Cassie gave my hand a squeeze. “And I think you’re better than normal.”
I want to believe we both told the truth.
Nine
September: A Beer in the Hand is Worth Two in the Fridge
The second week of school, Kevin officially breaks up with Samantha Bauer. All week, he ‘accidentally’ bumps into Cassie between classes and ‘mysteriously’ ends up behind her in the lunch line. He tries talking to her, but instead, she’ll pull me near and say things like, “Hmmm. Don’t know ... what do you think, Sylvie?” or “I’ve gotta run, but talk to Sylvie.” Unfortunately, I get a bad case of conversation constipation near Kevin. I push and strain and only a tiny turd of a word comes out. Obviously, he doesn’t stick around long with me there.
But I can see he’s working up to something, because when he looks at Cassie it’s no longer just gazing. His eyes are sparked with intention. I don’t say anything to Cass. I just wait for him to strike.
He does it on Friday.
Cassie’s new looks have brought her new popularity. And as her popularity has been growing, so has our lunch table. Instead of just me, Cassie and Sam, Sarah Chu and Michelle Winston sit with us, too. Sarah has dark, smooth hair and wears silver eyeliner and T-shirts with Sesame Street characters on them. I’m not sure who she sat with last year. Michelle is what my mom would call ‘pleasantly plump.’ Her curly, blonde hair is cut to her chin and she’s creamy white. Like a girl from a different era. She’s new to St. Anthony’s this year. Moved to Racine from Neenah. (That’s somewhere north of here. If Mr. Crawford actually taught us geography, I’d know where.)
When Kevin gets up from his table and makes a beeline for ours, we’ve already gotten our lunches. I pick up a french fry from the pile on my plate. It’s limp and lukewarm. School cafeteria food can even make Mom’s tofu turnovers look good.
“Here comes Kevin.” Cassie nudges me, but her cheeks are pink.
She does like him . I feel panic pushing at my insides. Get a grip, Sylvie. It’s just a boy.
No, it’s Kevin. He’s not just anything.
“Hey,” Kevin starts, his eyes on Cassie. Oh, no. He’s gonna ask her out. Oh, God, oh, no. I think I’m going to faint. For real.
But Kevin’s smart. He doesn’t take risks. Instead he pulls a folded piece of loose leaf out of his pants pocket and smoothes it out on the table, barely missing a glob of ketchup in front of Sam’s plate. “Bryce Hensley’s parents are in Mexico and he’s having a party tonight. Here’s the directions.” He makes a point of looking at everyone at the table. “You’re invited,” he says. “All of you.”
I switched off the flashlight while I waited for her to say something. Darkness swallowed the room. There was a long silence. Tears filled my eyes. I was glad I’d turned off the flashlight.
“That’s really weird, Sylvie.” When she finally did talk, her voice sounded hollow and a little freaked out. “But a little cool, too.”
“No,” I said. “Not cool. But weird, yes.”
“I think it might be good sometimes to faint or leave your body or whatever. To just ... forget everything for a minute.” She paused. “I’d like that.”
“You don’t forget anything.”
“But when you ... faint ... you always look so ... relaxed.”
“Relaxed? No. Not after.” My words were a hoarse whisper. “Everyone thinks I’m schizoid. Maybe I am. Be glad your life is normal.”
“Normal.” Cassie let out a strangled laugh. It sounded sad and broken. And a few moments later I heard her start to cry.
I didn’t ask her what was wrong. I didn’t need to. Instead, I reached towards her in the darkness. My fingers found her sleeping bag and her skin. She slipped her hand into mine.
“I love you,” I whispered.
Cassie gave my hand a squeeze. “And I think you’re better than normal.”
I want to believe we both told the truth.
Nine
September: A Beer in the Hand is Worth Two in the Fridge
The second week of school, Kevin officially breaks up with Samantha Bauer. All week, he ‘accidentally’ bumps into Cassie between classes and ‘mysteriously’ ends up behind her in the lunch line. He tries talking to her, but instead, she’ll pull me near and say things like, “Hmmm. Don’t know ... what do you think, Sylvie?” or “I’ve gotta run, but talk to Sylvie.” Unfortunately, I get a bad case of conversation constipation near Kevin. I push and strain and only a tiny turd of a word comes out. Obviously, he doesn’t stick around long with me there.
But I can see he’s working up to something, because when he looks at Cassie it’s no longer just gazing. His eyes are sparked with intention. I don’t say anything to Cass. I just wait for him to strike.
He does it on Friday.
Cassie’s new looks have brought her new popularity. And as her popularity has been growing, so has our lunch table. Instead of just me, Cassie and Sam, Sarah Chu and Michelle Winston sit with us, too. Sarah has dark, smooth hair and wears silver eyeliner and T-shirts with Sesame Street characters on them. I’m not sure who she sat with last year. Michelle is what my mom would call ‘pleasantly plump.’ Her curly, blonde hair is cut to her chin and she’s creamy white. Like a girl from a different era. She’s new to St. Anthony’s this year. Moved to Racine from Neenah. (That’s somewhere north of here. If Mr. Crawford actually taught us geography, I’d know where.)
When Kevin gets up from his table and makes a beeline for ours, we’ve already gotten our lunches. I pick up a french fry from the pile on my plate. It’s limp and lukewarm. School cafeteria food can even make Mom’s tofu turnovers look good.
“Here comes Kevin.” Cassie nudges me, but her cheeks are pink.
She does like him . I feel panic pushing at my insides. Get a grip, Sylvie. It’s just a boy.
No, it’s Kevin. He’s not just anything.
“Hey,” Kevin starts, his eyes on Cassie. Oh, no. He’s gonna ask her out. Oh, God, oh, no. I think I’m going to faint. For real.
But Kevin’s smart. He doesn’t take risks. Instead he pulls a folded piece of loose leaf out of his pants pocket and smoothes it out on the table, barely missing a glob of ketchup in front of Sam’s plate. “Bryce Hensley’s parents are in Mexico and he’s having a party tonight. Here’s the directions.” He makes a point of looking at everyone at the table. “You’re invited,” he says. “All of you.”
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