Home From Within (2 page)

When Aunt Lodi went to bed that night, Jessica was surprised to hear her mother suggest to her father that she might be right. Jessica could tell her mother didn’t like Aunt Lodi. It was not in how she spoke to her in conversation, but how her face and body looked when Aunt Lodi was around. She looked like someone who had toothpicks stuck all over her. Jessica wondered if it was because her father always listened to Aunt Lodi’s opinion and sometimes even followed her suggestions—even if it was opposite to her mother’s own wishes. And Jessica’s father was not a man to take unsolicited advice from just anyone.

“Ooohhhmigod! You actually got out of the house wearing that?” Marilee said as Jessica walked toward her.

“You have no idea how much crap I just went through. I can’t believe that I’m fifteen years old, and they still won’t leave me alone.”

“Well, it could be worse. I mean, your mom did let you shop with me and that outfit looks kick-ass.”

“Thanks,” Jessica said, beaming. “My mother had no idea the jeans would look this tight. And thank God I hid the shoes under the porch.”

“Well it was worth it cuz you look
hot.
”

“Ohmigod, shut up.”

Marilee gave her a slap on the ass, and they both laughed hard. “I snuck Barbara’s makeup out. Do you wanna put some on before we get there?”

Jessica wanted to wear makeup, but it was definitely on her father’s “don’t” list.

“Not yet. I think maybe next week.”

As they walked through their neighborhood, they passed Victorians with swings hung on the wraparound porches and huge Colonials with three-car garages. All the lawns were manicured, with decorative landscaping and lush green grass that folded its way around property after property. The in-ground watering systems ran early morning and late evening to keep the lawns looking perfect. But in Jessica’s opinion, the best part of the neighborhood was the trees. They looked like giant protectors of the earth, their enormous trunks reaching high into the sky. Branches tucked into the trees next to one another, as if they were in a huddle, and hung over the sidewalk and street. Jessica felt like the maple, elm, and white oak trees were looking down at her today and smiling.

After six blocks, the girls were swiftly approaching Heritage High School—a stately structure built in the late 1930s that was ensconced in the middle of her neighborhood, far from the busy streets of Chicago. The front of the building faced the neighborhood homes and consisted of multiple masses of concrete stairs with small pillars anchoring the sides. The archway above the doors gave the impression of nobility and grandeur; at least that’s what Jessica thought when she drove past in the backseat of her parents’ car.

Students were converging onto the sidewalk from many other parts of the neighborhood, surrounding Jessica in a sea of youth.

“Hi, Marilee,” said a couple of girls.

“Hey,” Marilee said as Jessica gave a faint smile, unsure how to make small talk.

Jessica knew neighborhood kids only by a “hello” that was given in passing. Marilee had attended the neighborhood elementary school, Wallace, and was friends with a lot of people, plus she was the youngest of six siblings, all of whom were current or former students of Heritage. Jessica felt less nervous with Marilee because of all the people she knew.

Across from the high school, the girls stopped. Jessica held in a gasp as her eyes scanned over the scene in front of her. Some students were in Firebirds and old Mustangs honking and stopping to talk to their friends in the middle of the street. Others were sitting on the huge cement stairs chatting, laughing, and shouting. Girls greeted each other with shrieks and hugs, and a boy chased a girl across the lawn. Some kids were even smoking.
Smoking at this age in front of
everyone, she thought. She smelled something other than cigarette smoke, a strong pungent odor she did not recognize, and noticed some kids who had the brightest hair color she had ever seen: fuchsia, yellow, purple, and blue. A few of the girls even had Mohawks. The writing on their shirts read “Dead Kennedys” and “Sex Pistols.” She had never heard of such things. She felt curious about these kids but intimidated, too; they all looked so mad.

“I’m so nervous,” Marilee whispered, threading her arm around Jessica’s.

“Me too.”

“Don’t worry about the penny thing. My brother told me they only say that to scare freshmen. He never once got a penny thrown at him.”

“That’s a relief,” Jessica said.

“Plus Eddie said if anyone does mess with us, they’ll be in deep shit.” Jessica smiled at the idea of having a pseudo big brother at school.

The girls crossed the street, almost getting hit by some kids in a tough-looking Trans Am, and continued to walk toward the massive concrete steps at the entrance of Heritage.

“Is that a
Ripp
I see?” said a boy who looked like a man. He was sitting on top of the concrete stairs in a green ragged army jacket that looked out of place on the warm September day. As he perched above them, the pungent odor Jessica had smelled earlier was making its way from the “man” to her nose.

Marilee met his words quickly. “You’re so lame.”

“No, I mean it, man. You got a
Ripp
in your jeans. Look.” He pointed to the seam that ran in between her butt cheeks.

Marilee did not flinch. “I’m so sure, asshole.” The man-boy and his friends started laughing.

“Do you know that guy?” Jessica asked, looking back at him and wondering why he thought it was so funny to make jokes about Marilee’s last name.

“One of Julie’s stupid friends. Just ignore that butt-wipe.”

Jessica’s heart was jumping. She saw a few boys that
did
look like boys walking up the steps to the side. They were laughing at what they just heard. One had a small smile but did not look impressed. He was staring right at her. Jessica turned her head quickly and pretended she did not see him looking at her.

Upon entering homeroom, the students were instructed to find their names and take their updated schedules from the alphabetical pile on the teacher’s desk, then pick a seat. Jessica, who had a death grip on her piece of paper, made her way to the far corner where only a few people were sitting. The smell of vanilla and honey hung in the air as Jessica’s homeroom teacher greeted all the students with an endearing smile. The teacher was a large black woman who wore traditional African clothing. Her floor-length dress was soft and flowing, which was a nice contrast to the bold orange, brown, and gold patterns running through it. She did, however, hold a very long yardstick in her right hand.

“Welcome, everybody. Glad to see you made it out of bed and on time to see me, Mrs. Daley, your homeroom teacher.”

Using the yardstick, she pointed to information she had written on the chalkboard.

“You’ll need to copy this down and memorize it.”

Every once in a while, she would slam the yardstick on the board, just to make sure they were all awake and had their “listening ears” on.

“I know some of this might sound scary, but if you follow the rules, and ask for help, everything should work out just fine for you all.”

Jessica kept her eyes glued on Mrs. Daley, not wanting to miss a thing. She felt impressed by her knowledge of the school and liked that Mrs. Daley gave them her telephone number in case of an emergency.

“Sometimes in life the unexpected happens—things out of your control, others’ bad choices. But I have no problem helpin’ students who help themselves,” Mrs. Daley said, and then shared a few stories about students that she had helped. Jessica felt even more impressed.
I am so lucky to have Mrs. Daley,
she thought. The knot in her gut began to loosen and she started glancing around the classroom. She recognized a few girls she had seen in the neighborhood, walking around or riding their bikes. All of them had perms. One girl had on the exact same top as hers. However, the girl’s shirt was yellow, and she didn’t have a dago tee underneath it. Then she saw him. The him she was pretending not to see—the one who’d been looking at her earlier. And he was doing it again—looking at her. Jessica turned away quickly. She felt an immediate blast of heat to her cheeks, and her heart lurched toward her throat. Jessica did not want him to see how nervous she was. The only experience she’d had with boys was with her little brother and Marilee’s brothers Tommy and Eddie. Tommy was twenty-three and joined the Marines after high school, so she rarely ever saw him anymore. Eddie was seventeen, Julie’s twin, and a senior at Heritage. Eddie was always kind but not overly friendly. Jessica was his little sister’s friend after all.

“So, anyone have any questions?” Mrs. Daley asked. The room stayed silent. “All right then. The bell will be ringing in about five minutes. I want you to look at your schedules again and we’ll each go around real quick and say what class and room we’re going to next. Maybe someone in here’s going to the same place and you can walk together.”

Jessica panicked. She did not have the courage to speak in front of her homeroom, especially around that boy who was already making her feel so off balance. She listened carefully as kids fumbled over their words and struggled to figure out exactly what room they were going to next. She felt a little relieved looking at people’s faces; they all looked as red as she felt.

The boy who was staring at Jessica announced clearly he was going to room 231, Freshman Biology. Jessica stared at her schedule.
Ohmigod! We are going to the same place!

“Anyone else headed to Biology next?” Mrs. Daley asked as the bell rang.

Jessica was unable to speak. She tried really hard, but the words refused to come out.

“Well, too bad. I’m sure the rest of you will be just fine, but if you need help, please come back to this room and I’ll point you in the right direction.”

Despite a blush that covered her chest and face, Jessica looked up and smiled at Mrs. Daley’s angelic face.

As the bell rang, the reality of her foolishness hit her. What would that boy think as he saw her walk into the same classroom as him? Jessica got up slowly and tried to think of all the ways she could get out of Freshman Biology. Maybe she could switch classes. But how would she explain the reason to her parents? Maybe Marilee’s brother Tommy could come home on leave from the Marines and pretend to be her father. Yeah, and sign papers to get her out of second period Biology. Or maybe Aunt Lodi.

Jessica stepped out of the safe confines of homeroom and was swept into a current of students. She finally managed to swim upstream and after a few minutes arrived safely in front of room 231. For a brief moment, she thought about hiding in the bathroom, but the image of her parents’ faces persuaded her otherwise. She took a deep breath, touched her cross and dream catcher charm with her fingers, and walked into the classroom. The biology teacher was standing by his desk fiddling with something, so Jessica caught only a glimpse of his silhouette—tall and gangly, like a tree along the road they passed on the drive to Aunt Lodi’s in the UP. As he turned to address the students, Jessica noticed his large black-rimmed glasses, and he sported tufts of gray hair that stuck out in a mess while papers and other items were falling out of the pockets of his white lab coat.

Mr. Wilberg called each of the students alphabetically and then pointed to where he wanted them to sit. One name was repeated because no owner claimed it: Peterson.

“Jessica Turner,” he announced, pointing to the last lab table in the back. A girl named Cassandra Stokle was already sitting there. The table held room for six students and was eventually filled with three more. Mr. Wilberg was double-checking his placement when a student walked into the classroom ten minutes late.

“Sorry,” the boy said, “I had to help a student find her classroom.”

Jessica looked up to see the boy from her homeroom. Her face blazed again.

“You are late. Do not come to my class late.”

The boy looked surprised. “What? You want me to leave a cryin’ girl in the hallway just to get to class on time?”

“You will get to class on time, crying or no crying.”

The boy was about to say something else but hesitated, gave a cocky smile, and said, “Yes, sir. Where do you want me to sit?”

Mr. Wilberg’s eyes narrowed. “What is your name?”

“Paul Peterson.”

“Peterson?” Mr. Wilberg looked down at the sheet of paper with all the seating decisions. He rubbed his forehead with one hand and then pointed to one of the lab tables.

“Peterson is supposed to be at
that
table. But as you can see,
that
table is full because we did not know we had a Peterson.” Some of the students started chuckling. Jessica was amazed that Paul did not appear flustered by what was happening and stood calmly waiting for the confused biology teacher to figure things out. After about thirty seconds, Mr. Wilberg ordered him to have a seat at the last lab table. Jessica felt light-headed as Paul made his way toward her. He gave her a sheepish grin as he sat down next to her, and she noticed for the first time how gorgeous his eyes were; they reminded her of a blue stained-glass window with the sun shining through from behind. Jessica gave him a small smile and turned her attention back to Mr. Wilberg and all his rules.

C
hapter
3

After attending a few more classes, Jessica found herself being pushed by a mass of bodies in the hallway, trying to edge away from a large, smelly boy, when she felt a gentle tug on her arm. It was Eddie, Marilee’s brother. He smiled and calmly asked, “Do you know where you’re going?”