Falling for You (25 page)

I smiled. “Spencer called you the floral philanthropist. As for me, you were the ninja of nice.”

He laughed. “Now we’re talking.”

I still was confused about one thing, though, and I really wanted to understand how I fit into the equation. “But, Leo, I deliver flowers every day, because it’s my job. How did you think this project of yours would help me?”

An older lady walked by us. He waited to reply until she’d gone inside Cutting Edge. “The people I chose came into the
shop and liked to talk. I hoped the people I chose might be willing to open up to you, even a little bit, as you stood on the porch with their flowers. You have such a big heart, and I knew if they started talking, you’d want to know more. And in getting to know them, you’d meet nice people having a hard time, like yourself. I wanted you to see that people do the best they can, and in the end, you don’t judge them. You come to like them because of the good people they are, which is completely separate from their crappy situations.”

It was pretty sweet what Leo did. Kind. What he’d said was exactly what I’d hoped to get across in Ms. Bloodsaw’s class this morning. Basically the same message, just a different method.

Leo took my hand in his. “That delivery for George? At the hospital? That one was completely selfish. I wanted to see you. To get a chance to talk. I missed you so much.”

I cringed. “And I blew you off. I’m so sorry. Okay, what about that delivery over winter break? I wasn’t here for that one.”

He nodded. “Right. I didn’t know you were on vacation, so that didn’t exactly go as planned. But it’s okay. At least you got to know Maddie and Ella.”

It was kind of unbelievable, how much he’d given me with such a simple idea. “What’s the deal with today’s envelope?” I asked.

He scratched the back of his head, like he was trying to
figure out how to explain himself. “I needed to end my little project, and I wanted to tell you, but I didn’t know how. I figured maybe you’d catch on if I sent you a bouquet. I almost chickened out of coming clean, though, if you couldn’t tell.” He put his arm around me and pulled me close. “Thanks for understanding.”

Understanding? I was blown away by what he’d done to try to help me. I leaned in to kiss my ninja of nice.

“Leo!” his brother called from the door. “Did you get those ones? I need them now, man!”

Leo groaned as we both stood up and I handed him the envelope. “Take it. I don’t need a bouquet of flowers. I get to enjoy them every day for free. Really.”

“Can I take you to a movie instead? We need to have a do-over date, don’t we?”

I smiled. “Yeah. We definitely do.”

He quickly kissed me on the cheek and said, “I’ll call you later, okay?” And then he ran off toward the coffee shop.

I collapsed on the bench. The mystery was solved, and it would probably take me days to fully understand and appreciate what Leo had done.

No one had ever done anything like that for me before. I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. For a little while, anyway.

at the park

OVER SPRING BREAK, LEO WENT WITH ME TO THE LAWYER’S office. I got teary when the man handed me the tattered blue book with the faded cover. The book had been well loved and I couldn’t wait to start reading it. I felt close to Ella, just holding it in my hands, like she’d left me a small piece of herself.

After that we went to the bank, and I opened a new savings account. I planned to be much more careful this time. Dean would never know about the money or the account. As we left the bank, I realized Ella had given me more than a book and money. She’d given me hope. I had a new confidence in myself and what the future might hold. I sent up a soft whisper of thanks.

For the first time in a long, long time, life felt good. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this happy.

With our errands done, we headed to the park, where Leo
pushed me on the swings until it felt like I was flying. We went down the slide over and over, a couple of times with me sitting on his lap. I leaned back and tried to kiss him as gravity pulled us to the ground, making him laugh because it wasn’t easy, kissing and sliding at the same time.

After we took a spin on the tire swing, we collapsed on the ground underneath a big oak tree. Leo lay flat on his back and pointed his video camera up at the branches, the leaves, and the big blue sky.

“You love the sky, don’t you?” I asked as I lay down next to him. “You always seem to point that thing toward it.”

“I guess I do. It’s rarely the same sky twice. It’s always changing, always different. And yet, always beautiful.”

He looked over at me. “No way,” I said. “Don’t go all cheesy on me and say the sky is like me. The sky is
nothing
like me!”

“What are you like, then?”

I pointed to the seesaw. “I’m like that thing. Up one minute and down the next. Constantly trying to find my balance.”

He smiled. “Always changing. Always different. Always . . . ”

“No. Don’t say beautiful. Nathan used to call me that.”

“Okay. Always interesting? Or, I know, always spectacular, how about that?” he teased.

“Constantly trying to find my balance is not spectacular. It’s awkward and painful, that’s what it is.”

“Well, then, I think you’re pretty much like everyone else in the world.”

I sat up and plucked a handful of grass, then slowly let the blades fall into my lap. “Some days, when I’m down, it’s hard to get back up again. I wonder sometimes if something’s wrong with me. Like I should be stronger and have the ability to push myself up faster.”

He pulled me into his arms. I lay on his chest, our faces inches apart. “I promise, there’s nothing wrong with you,” he said as he tucked my hair behind my ears. “The fact that you try so hard to get up when you’re down says a lot about you. Not everyone does that, Rae. I wish you’d see that. You’re an amazing girl.”

“Really?” I asked, running my finger along his jawbone. “Spectacular and amazing?”

He leaned in closer. “Yes. Absolutely, yes.”

I wanted to believe him. I put my lips on his, and I kissed him over and over and over again, wanting, so desperately, to believe him.

poetry journal—march

from the poem
THOUGHTS

by Sara Teasdale

When I am all alone

Envy me most,

Then my thoughts flutter round me

In a glimmering host;

Some dressed in silver,

Some dressed in white,

Each like a taper

Blossoming light;

I love this poem. I especially love the image of “blossoming light.”

Being alone can be dark. Sad. Or it can be an opportunity to think and dream lovely things.

It’s all in how we see the world. And what we hold within our hearts.

I think I’ve realized that through words, through stories, through poetry, we can change the way we see the world.

And even more important, we can change the way we see ourselves.

the hospital—9:17 a.m
.

I hurt
.

Everything hurts
.

I moan
.

I feel hands on me and hear voices around me talking about dosages and vital signs
.

What did the nurses say earlier?

People holding vigil
.

What does that mean?

It’s so hard to think
.

Do they know all the ugly details?

Half the town. That’s what they said. Half the town knows?

The pain is almost too much to take
.

I moan again
.

Make it stop
.

Please, just make it all stop
.

one day earlier

twelve hours or else

THERE’S NOTHING QUITE LIKE WAKING UP TO A YELLING MATCH from the bedroom next door. So much fun. I rolled over and opened one eye to see the time on my clock radio. Four thirty. In the morning.

“Dean, I told you,” Mom yelled, “I don’t have anything to give you. You took it all!”

“There’s got to be more around here. You’re holding out on me. I know it.” Then came the sound of drawers dropping to the ground, one after the other, as he dumped stuff onto the floor. I could picture him going through Mom’s panties and bras, hoping to find a stash of cash she’d tucked away. I hoped for her sake she was telling the truth. I didn’t know what he’d do if he found out she’d been lying to him.

After a few minutes he stormed into my room. I sat up as he flipped on the light. With squinted eyes, I watched him as
he went to my desk, looking for my purse. I’d learned my lesson, though. I didn’t keep it there anymore.

“Where is it?” he demanded.

“I don’t have any money either, Dean. Are you seriously in that much trouble again? So much for your promises.”

He marched over and slapped me across the face. He hit me so hard, my head slammed against the headboard and made a loud cracking sound. I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to cry, and held my hand on the spot, wondering if it was going to bleed.

Mom stood in the doorway, crying. “Dean, what’s going on? Why are you acting like this?”

“They are going to kill me, Joan. If I don’t come up with some kind of payment, those thugs are going to kill me. Is that clear enough for you?” He looked at the clock as he ran his hands through his thinning hair. “I have about twelve hours to figure out how to come up with some cash or I am a dead man. It’s that simple.”

Mom pleaded. “Rae. Don’t you have anything? Even just a few dollars might help him.”

No way. I wasn’t giving Dean anything else. Along with my money, he’d taken my dignity, my confidence, and, at times, any hope I had for a better future. I shook my head and started fiddling with my ring. My stupid, nervous habit. “I’m sorry,” I told him. “I don’t have anything.”

Dean stormed over and grabbed my hand. “The hell you
don’t.” He practically tore my finger off my hand as I tried to pull away from him. He was too strong for me.

I held my naked finger, screaming. “No! Please, not that!”

“Someday you’ll regret not trying harder to help me!” he yelled at the top of his lungs. “You worthless piece of shit.”

He stomped off, making sure to slam the front door as he left.

As I cried, I checked my head for blood again. Nothing, though I was starting to get a bump. It hurt. Not as much as my heart, though, as I thought about losing Grandma’s ring forever.

My mom melted onto the floor, her hands on her face as she let out big ugly sobs. I got out of bed and wrapped my arms around her, rocking her back and forth, telling her everything would be okay.

I hoped they did kill him. I knew I shouldn’t think like that, but I did. We needed Dean out of our lives for good so we could finally have some peace.

I took her back to her room and tucked her into bed.

“I’m sorry, Rae,” she whispered.

“I know, Mom. I am too.”

She rolled over and I tiptoed out, shutting the door behind me.

Back in my room, I looked out my bedroom window. Dean had taken Mom’s car, thank goodness. I’d have my truck to get to school.

Still, it was too early to get up, and I’d never be able to go back to sleep. I grabbed my laptop, put on some Foo, then pulled out my journal. It lay next to the book I’d finally
finished,
Eyes Like Mine
. The book was way overdue, but I’d taken a long time finishing it because I’d been so worried about the girl in the story. I wasn’t sure the main character was going to get the happy ending I desperately wanted for her. She had to fight for it. Really fight.

But in the end, she got it.

She got exactly what I wanted.

poetry journal—april

CHERISH

In books

we watch

as characters

go through

hard times.

We pull

for them

as they

struggle

to survive.

In our hearts

they deserve

the happy ending.

I haven’t always

rooted for myself.

Haven’t always

believed in my heart

that I deserve

the happy ending.

While I’ve always

cherished words,

books and poetry,

I haven’t always

cherished my

own story.

I realize now

my life is worth

cherishing.

And I’m going to fight

for my own

happy ending.

kindness revealed

AT SCHOOL PEOPLE WERE ALL ABUZZ ABOUT THE LATEST POETRY pages. I grabbed a newspaper, went to my locker, and flipped it open. A letter from Ms. Bloodsaw caught my attention, so I read it first.

From the editor

I’ll admit, the idea of a poetry anthology worried me. And the idea of poetry in the newspaper worried me even more. I didn’t know if students would be receptive to the poetry section and whether we’d get any submissions.

As an English teacher, I knew I would regret it if I didn’t at least try. Poetry is good for the soul, as a reader, as a writer, or as both.