“I’m not going to play basketball anymore.”
“What do you mean? Yes, you most certainly are. You need that, Jessie. College isn’t cheap. You have to get a scholarship.”
“Trust me. I’ll manage. There’re more ways to get a scholarship than basketball. I’ll Google it later.”
“You’ll what it?”
Recovering from the term she wouldn’t understand, I explained to her from an eighties perspective, “Oh, it means like, I’ll do some investigating. I’ll talk to the guidance counselor tomorrow.”
“Google about it. Huh, I like that one. Way better than totally. I’d be okay if you never said that again.”
“Totally,” I joked.
“Are you sure about this? I feel like something is going on with you. You love basketball.”
“Yeah, but I started playing basketball in third grade. I think I’m okay without it. Besides, I don’t want my knee to hurt anymore. It’s not worth it.”
“You hurt your knee? Do you want me to call the doctor? I’ll get you some ice.”
“No, Gram. It’s fine. I just don’t want to mess myself up over a three pointer. I really think I’m going to sit out this year.”
“Coach Dixon will have a heart attack.”
“Eh, he’ll get over it. Guess what Idid today.”
“I’m afraid to ask.”
“You know how we have to compete with the same boy for the entire year in gym class? I’m with Johnny. I beat him in everything but three things. I’m going to kick his ass next month.”
My grams just stared at me like I had two heads. “Why? Guys don’t like to be beaten by girls, Jess. You’ll never find a decent guy that way. Men don’t like women who beat them,theiregos can’t handle it.”
“That’s a horrible lesson to teach a teenage girl, Grams.”
“Well it’s the truth. It’s the way it is. It’s the way it’s been for as long as anyone can remember, and you’re not going to change itby trying to prove something to Johnny. Just kiss and make up already.”
“I’m not trying to prove anything to Johnny, Grams. Just myself.”
Chapter Eight
Against my friends’ better judgement, I did quit basketball. Every day was a struggle, but this time around it was a different struggle. This time the struggle wasn’t about me fitting in with what everyone else thought was cool,it was about me. That’s basically it. I’m not the only one who felt it though. I noticed within the first week how me coloring outside the lines was affecting my relationship with my friends. By the end of the first week, they had stopped waiting for me at our lockers before lunch, and even when I did join them, it wasn’t the same. Everything I said was wrong, and it was easier for me to not say anything at all than to say something I might regret. Not that it would bother me now if I werethe butt of their jokes. It wouldn’t have. Still, I cowered in the back while Wendy ran the show.
By the second week, I was ready to pull Wendy’s hair out, and I wondered what I had ever seen in her in the first place. Back then it felt like the only choice, now it felt silly. I’d spent all those years trying to be normal like them, and now all I wanted to do was puke in my mouth. Still, for whatever reason, I continued to think they were my only friends. Even though I knew way more than all of them put together. It was no different than my Google analogy with my grandma. They wouldn’t understand anyway. It would be like giving a baby a steak. They weren’t ready for it. Those werethe excuses I made in my head, anyway.
Even hindsight didn’t make it any easier to not conform. I still stood by and kept my mouth shut just like I did when I didn’t know anything. I flew by the seat of my pants. That’s it. Wendystill gave me a hard time over my clothes, my hair, and my makeup, but that didn’t really bother me. It did, however, bother me when Stella Mason walked by us at lunch. Wendy was a straight up asshole, and I didn’t understand why. She was always so nasty. Maybe that’s why I was her friend for all those years. Because I didn’t want to be the one catching her shit.
“Hey, Stella. There’s a string hanging out of your vagina,” she called clear across the parking lot, laughing like it was funny.
“What the hell? That’s disgusting. Why would you even say that?” I questioned before I gave myself time to think about it.
Wendy turned around and gave me a once over, telling me with her eyes to back down, and then called back to Stella. “Seriously? You didn’t hear? Stella forgot to look in the mirror before swim practice. I guess she likes advertising when she’s on her period.”
Stella ignored her and kept walking, but the crimson onher cheeks was hard to hide. I spoke up though. “How would you even know that?”
Again, Wendy looked at me like I was stepping out of line. “I’m on the swim team, remember? What’s your problem, anyway? You’ve been a bitch ever since school started back. I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you’re about to lose everything you worked hard to be here. I hate to be the one to tell you, but this new wardrobe thing you’ve got going onis doing nothing for you.”
I remembered this day, and I remembered my response the last time. There was none. I just stood there, feeling bad for Stella, but not this time. “Let me get this straight. You’re on the same team, you looked at her crotch to see she was revealing something the whole world didn’t need to see, and you didn’t tell her? Way to be a way to be totally rad, Wendy.”
“Oh, my God,” she screeched. “Shut up. You’re so stupid.”
That’s all she could come back with, but before I could say anything back, I overheard Johnny say something about gluing some new kid’s books to the workstation in shop, and then a comment about him having sideburns. My whole world froze, and I looked to where I thought the bike should have been, but it wasn’t there.
“Who? Where is he?” I questioned, my attention going to the guys’ conversation instead of Wendy’s.
“Jessie!” Wendy screeched again. This time pulling on my arm like we were best buds again. “There. Look. Remember that kid? We went to school with him. Remember? He never took a bath and he always wore the same clothes? Come on. Let’s go say hi.”
I pulled away from her with my mouth agape, literally unable to speak. I’d been watching the wrong parking spot for days, waiting for this day. Paying absolutely no attention to my friends, I walked toward him.
“Royal?”
“Jessie? Hey. What’s up girl?”
And just like that, Royal made it extremely easy. He wrapped his arms around my waist, spinning me in a full circle. My heart exploded into a million tiny crystals, sparkling through time, through history, through the universe. I felt like I felt when we spent our days wandering everywhere when we were so young. That was real. It was a real thing, and Roxy was right. I did feel something. From out of nowhere, I felt like my entire life was a lie. I was part of something bigger than I’d been led to believe. I was part of a whole. The same whole as Royal.
“Ewwww, now you’re both going to smell like ass.”
Royal lowered me to the ground with the biggest smile on his face, and I knew he was feeling the same explosive awareness I was. “Please tell me you’re not still friends with that girl.”
“I probably won’t be anymore. I’m glad you’re still talking to me.”
Royal pulled back and looked at me like I was silly. “Why wouldn’t I talk to you?”
“I wasn’t very nice to you. Remember?”
“Yeah, I remember a lot of times you weren’t very nice to me. Where should I start?”
“I can’t believe I’m here.”
“You’re here? Did you move away too?”
“No, you wouldn’t understand. I’m so glad you’re here. Really, really glad. You look the same as you did at seven, only bigger.”
Royal looked over my shoulder to Wendy and back to my own plain old jeans and Jokey Smurf tee shirt. “Actually, so do you. I was afraid you would look like her instead of you.”
I smiled so big it
hurt. “Nah, I’m not going to do that this time around.”
“This time around?”
Realizing we still had an audience, I turned to my friends when the bell rang, all standing around watching us with surprised expressions. “Forget it. What class do you have now?”
“Art.”
“Really? You like art?”
“Yeah, do you?”
“No, I’m more of a… I don’t know. Other than macaroni necklaces and turkey handprints, I guess I’ve never really tried it. I don’t think I’m very talented. I gotta go. Maybe I’ll see if I can switch classes.”
“You still smart as an eighty year old professor?”
I chuckled and walked away backwards, knowing I had about two minutes to make it to my locker before English. “I must be. I took all classes for a smart person anyway. I’ll meet you right here after school. Okay?”
“I’ll be the one in white,” he said, spinning around like he was modeling his white bohemian shirt for me. I didn’t find anything at all weird about it. It was him, and he didn’t smell like a stinky little boy either. He smelled like Royal. Sage and something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Sandalwood maybe.
Still wearing the biggest smile ever, I spun away from him and walked right past my old tribe. Mostly Wendy. She hated me, and it only took one time of calling her out to achieve that honor. I was on air. My feet felt like they weren’t even touching the ground, and nothing could have ruined my day.
Not until I turned to the loud thump, seeing Johnny holding Royal against the side of Mark’s truck. Just like the last time this had happened, Royal didn’t do a thing about it. He just let Johnny restrain him without a fight, but this time, I didn’t stand off to the side without saying a word.
“What are you doing? Let him go, you stupid idiot.”
“Is this why you broke up with me? Huh? You want to go out with this piece of shit loser?”
Shoving him backwards, I wedged myself between them to make him stop. “Leave him alone, Johnny.”
Johnny shoved him hard but backed off with a finger pointed right at my face. “Go ahead. We’ll see who’s queen this year. I guarantee it won’t be you. The only queen you’ll belong to is this piece of shit,” Johnny said with vengeful, angry words. Taking a bow, Johnny gave him his blessing with an open hand. “She’s all yours, your Royal Hind-ass.”
I turned my angry attention to the crowd whowere chanting “fight,” over and over until they turned to Johnny and stroked his ego even more. “What the fuck is wrong with you people? You’re cheering on this idiot? For what? For being a bully? This isn’t okay, and you know it. Don’t feed into that. You do exactly what I just did. You stand up for people who can’t stand up for themselves, because that’s what humanity means.” I yelled while the whole parking lot stared at me in silence as if I’d lost my mind, but I didn’t care. I was so mad I could have spit.
“I can stand up for myself,” Royal said from behind me, but it wasn’t meant to be serious. He was joking and only I got it. Everyone else laughed at him, letting my rant about standing up for each other blow away with the wind.
Johnny got away with it with a pat on the back, and they laughed at Royal. I didn’t get it now any more than I did back then. What in the world would ever make me think that was ever okay? “You’re going to love Forrest Gump.”
Royal’s eyebrows took a slow dive toward the bridge of his nose, confusion written all over his face. “Who?”
I laughed really loud, and I didn’t care who heard me. Too happy to even care, I made him promise to meet me right there after school with a straight finger and threatening look. “I’ll meet you right here.”
“Yes, I’ll see you later.”
It took less than two weeks for my entire history to change, but I was afraid it would end, that I would wake up from this dream, or coma, whatever this was, and not get to see how it ended. Nothing could have upset me after that, and nothing could have made me happier. Not until sixth period study hall, anyway.
I’d just taken my seat with a twenty question chemistry paper and my book when I looked up for no reason at all. Because I felt him. Royal’s eyes instantly met mine, and we both smiled. Glancing over to Vicki Lawrence, a girl who was also in my chemistry class, I bribed her out of her seat. “Hey, I’ll let you copy my chemistry homework if you let my friend have this seat.”
Vicki looked behind and then back to me. She wasn’t someone I talked to on purpose and she knew it. “Me?”
“Yes, he’s new. We have a history, and I kind of want to catch up.”
“You’re offering to let me copy your homework?”
I looked up, hearing Mr. Cho tell Royal to find an empty seat while he looked for his planner a couple boys had taped to the chalkboard right behind him, and back to Vicki. “Yup. All you have to do is move.”
“Yeah, okay. How am I going to get it from you?”
“Here, give me your notebook. I’ll give you my number. Call me tonight, and I’ll give you the answers.”
“Me?” she questioned again, handing over her notebook in a state of confusion.
“Yes, you. Thank you so much.”
“How much you have to pay her?” Royal questioned with a crooked grin.
I smiled back, wishing I could hug him again. “A homework assignment. You better be worth it.”
“Depends on whether or not you’re gonna make me go on a ghost horse chase.”
Again, I laughed a full blown cackle. Just like I’d done when we were kids. When we didn’t have anyone to influence us but us. Before we joined society and let everyone else tell us who to be. Only that wasn’t really how it was. I was the only one who did that. Royal was still genuine to himself, and this time, I admired him for it. Not that I didn’t back then either, I did. I just let other people and a popularity contest obscure my vision. Royal was the only boy in the entire world I knew I could just be one-hundredpercent me with. I wasn’t about to miss out on something this special for a group of mean girls and Johnny Dixon. Not this time.
“Alright, alright, quiet down.” Mr. Cho called to the class, directing it at my obnoxious laugh.
I didn’t care,not about that, nor the way the whole class turned and looked at me. Luckily, Mr. Cho was old and tired of teaching. He was one of the pushover teachers everyone seemed to walk all over just because they could, especially sincethis was study hall. As long as everyone remained someone quiet, he didn’t say anything. The only bad thing about it was the fact we couldn’t really talk without everyone hearing us. We chose notes instead.
Royal opened my Trapper Keeper and pulled out a notebook. “Seriously? World Economics?”
I shrugged and explained why, through a whisper. “It’s a college credit.”
Sliding his desk toward me a little, Royal wrote at the top of a blank page.
Boring…
Still wearing a smile I couldn’t seem to contain, I wrote back, asking him where he’d been and what he’d been doing all these years. For fifty-four minutes, Royal and I passed a notebook. I mostly asked questions and he answered. My years had all been the same. I was smart, I got good grades, I was a basketball star, and I was a puppet to my friends. Of course, I didn’t admit that to him.
I ended up having another class with Royal, too. Last period,Basic Math. A credit he apparently needed to graduate high school. While Ms. Hatcher taught mostly ninth graders, and a handful of seniors lacking a credit or two, I graded some papers for her; but mostly,I stared at Royal. Because I couldn’t not look at him. And every time I glanced up, he was smiling right at me.
My last class was on the same floor as my locker, and believe me, I tried like hell to get to my locker and get out of there before my friends arrived;however,they had other plans.
Wendy took my arm and pulled me to her locker. I went because she didn’t give me a choice. “Okay, the three of us got together and decided we need to intervene here.”
“Intervene here?” I questioned
.
“Yes, we get it now. You’ve been hanging out with that boy behind our back, haven’t you? That’s why you’ve been dressing like Punky Brewster and acting so weird. Well, we’re not going to let you do this.”
I snorted and tried to step between them, but Jan closed the gap by stepping close to Wendy. “Guys, thanks for the ‘intervention,’ but I’m good.”
“You’re not good. Look at you. Look at your hair, your clothes. What are you wearing? You look like Greg Brady.”
“Thanks for your concern, but I think I’ve got this one.”
“That’s just it, Jessie. You don’t. That’s why we’re trying to help you. You’re not seeing clearly right now, for some reason,” Wendy pleaded, holding both my shoulders, and giving me a light shake. “We’re the ones seeing all this change from the outside, and we see what you’re doing to yourself. Wake up, Jessica Fenton. This is what you need to do. First, you need to stay away from that smelly boy who looks like he came here from another time.”
Of course, I snorted at that one.
“I’m being serious, Jess. Next, you need to get over this thing with you and Johnny. Open your eyes, girl. There’s a whole line of other seniors who would gladly take your place. We helped you pick out your clothes for a reason. Start wearing them, and lastly, go tell Coach Dixon you were just kidding and get back on the team. Oh, and don’t try to beat Johnny in gym anymore. You’re making a fool of yourself. We’ve been friends for a very long time, Jessie. I’m only trying to get you take the blinders off and see what you’re doing to your reputation.”
“I’m so glad I get to do this without the veil this time. This isn’t what it’s all about, Wendy.”
“What the hell is wrong with you? Of course, this is what it’s about.”
Searching for words I couldn’t seem to find, I glanced to Leigh. There was no way to explain it without sounding like a philosopher professor. In their eyes, this was how every high school girl on the planet wanted to go out. We had one short year of this left, and in their hearts, they felt this was the way to do it. “Well, it shouldn’t be. Friends don’t judge.”