Authors: Ellen Hopkins
Identical (43 page)
changed his bachelor ways. Way too
into himself, not the type to move
in a habitual keeper, love or no love.
No love to us, I’d still like to see
Ty. It’s been a long week with
nothing to smoke. I’ll call him again.
The Biggest Surprise
Of the week was not hearing
a word from or about Mick.
I expected a call, at the very least,
telling me what a bitch I am.
What I really expected was a knock
on the door from a tan uniform,
a trip to juvie, and major dishonor
to Judge Raymond Gardella, not to
mention his wife, the incoming
freshman congresswoman. Phew!
But no. Nada. Nothing. Not a hint
of a problem. Maybe I should call
Mick, apologize. Would he forgive
me? Pick me up? Share a doob?
I mean, really, it
was
his fault. Maybe
that’s why he didn’t make trouble.
Okay, I’m treading a fantasy—Mick,
in my control. A shitload of bud. And me.
But It Isn’t Mick
Who comes idling up beside me
at the midtown park where
I spent the afternoon spying on
tourists for sheer amusement value.
No, it isn’t a big 4x4 that stops.
In fact, it only has two wheels.
Tuned and well-fed, Ian’s Yamaha
hums contentedly.
Ride?
I know he can’t have confused me
with Kaeleigh, who would not
be happy to know Ian gave
me
a ride
home. Like I care. “Sure.”
He hands me his spare helmet,
slides forward to make room, and as
I slide my arms around him, I wonder
if he might think I’m Kaeleigh after all.
Nah. He knows her too well.
Doesn’t he? One way to find out.
I make my voice all sweet.
“Take me for a cruise?”
He pauses, tenses. Definitely
confused. Then he shakes
his head. Relaxes a level, but
not completely.
Where to?
Highway 154
Takes you all the way
to Santa Barbara. It winds
past cattle ranches and Lake
Cachuma before cresting
The San Marcos Pass and
snaking down over the
mountain. Just as you
drop, you can turn off on
the potholed road to Cold
Spring Tavern. That’s where
I asked to go. I love it there,
where history looms large
in the oak-decked beauty
of old California. It’s late
afternoon, and I find myself
wishing I had a heavier jacket.
I bury my face into Ian, inhale
warmth and perfume of leather.
Something very much like
contentment threatens my
equilibrium. Does Kaeleigh
have a clue what she has here?
Longing Lunges
With sudden ferocity.
What is wrong with me?
I can’t. Can’t. Won’t. Will I?
Ian pulls into a narrow
parking space beside the road.
Walk with me?
He reaches
for my hand and it dawns
on me. He
does
think I’m
Kaeleigh. How I want to be.
I should tell him. Have to tell
him, but my hand, tucked
neatly into his, is so warm.
I let it stay there as we work
our way along a narrow trail.
So much love, in the palm
of his hand, folded around mine.
Oh, Kaeleigh. Don’t you get it?
Oh, Kaeleigh. To be his!
I’m not even drunk, not stoned,
not buzzed on pills. Perfectly
straight, still I’m reeling.
I should tell him. Have to tell
him. But, hidden by forest,
far from prying eyes,
he pulls me against him. My
head falls into his chest and I
listen to the rhythm of his heart.
I look up into his eyes,
find the kind of love there
I hunger for. Love, not meant
for me. I vow to absorb it
anyway, hold on to it as long
as I can, even if for only a few
seconds. I want to kiss him.
Am going to kiss him, though
I know if I do, he’ll realize
he’s not kissing Kaeleigh.
Hey, maybe he’ll fall out
of love with her, and into
love with me. So I stand
on my tiptoes, reach up
for his lips with my own.
Yes, Every Kiss Is Different
And this is a kiss
like none before, a kiss
that could overcome the dark
of deep space night. It’s a falling
star, flame, ice. It’s pure as water from a snow-fed mountain
spring. This is what you dream a kiss to be. To have a kiss just
like this each and every day! How satisfying life would be.
Oh, Kaeleigh. Never let this man get away.
Ian is the key to your salvation.
Ian Moans
And that ignites a flame just
below my belly button. This
is so wrong, but I don’t care.
Ian is also on fire. But when
I reach down to touch him
the way every guy wants,
he draws back.
Wait.
“Please, Ian? I want you.”
He shakes his head.
What’s wrong with you?
Wrong? Everything’s right.
I try to kiss him again.
He pulls away, eyes betraying
confusion.
You’re not Kaeleigh.
He knows, of course he does.
I’ll make him want me. I fall to
my knees in front of him. “Just let me…”
No! I can’t. This isn’t right.
He turns, stalks off, down the trail.
All I can do is follow.
Ian’s Sense
Of right and wrong
overwhelms me. Not
a single other person
I know
possesses such an unshakable
sense of morality. It’s more
than unbelievable.
It’s frightening.
To offer without strings
something all men crave,
and be rejected by him is
incomprehensible.
Think I’ll have to kick
Kaeleigh’s ass. Does she have
any idea what it means
to be
so treasured? He has built
a pedestal for her so tall
that she is afraid to be
lifted
atop it, because to fall
would mean certain death.
But oh, she would rise far, far
beyond fear
and be held by arms so strong,
and love so pure, that falling
would not be an option.
Falling
Is such an unpleasant sensation.
I’m falling now, down through
a dark blue opiate sea, and
I know
it’s all up to me. Sink or swim?
I know how to swim, have practiced
the dead man’s float for years, but
it’s frightening
how much I just want to drown
in this undertow of booze and pills.
I drank a lot tonight, ingested an
incomprehensible
amount of painkillers, some
borrowed from Daddy, the rest
pilfered from old Sam, who seems
to be
suffering a lot from his arthritis.
His nightstand is a pharmacy.
I doubt he even noticed I
lifted
a handful of Percodans. Lucky me,
Daddy had to work this weekend.
By the time he gets home, I’ll be
beyond fear
and well past saving.
I’m falling now, down,
down through indigo….
Tick-Tock
Through the thickening
vespers
the clock on my wall
whispers.
Tick-tick. Tock-tock.
Intones
the passage of time.
Drones.
Inhale. Everything
slows.
Exhale. The exchange
shallows.
Heartbeats mimic,
tick-tick.
Become erratic, stutter,
t-t-tock.
Through the indigo.
Down.
Gradual motion.
I drown.
A Voice
Echoes inside my brain.
A little girl’s voice.
Get up. When you fall
down, you gotta get up.
It’s Raeanne, and I am with
her on the playground.
Get up, Kaeleigh, or I’m
gonna be mad at you.
I am lying beside the merry-
go-round, head spinning.
I hate when you be a baby.
Oooh. Lookie. You’re bleeding.
Scarlet oozes from a slice
on one skinned knee.
Stop crying! I hate when
you cry. Mommy! Mom…
Now her voice changes,
hardens, sedimentary stone.
Stop whining, Kaeleigh, or I’ll
have to kick your ass.
She sounds like me. Looks
like me. Identical.
Goddammit. I’m going for help.
I’ll kick your ass later.
Another Voice
Trails the slam of a door. Door?
Down here? How can a door slam
in so much water? So much deep,
dark ocean?
Hello? Anyone home?
Obnoxious. Intrusive. A lifeline.
Footsteps. Twenty to his bed. Twelve
to mine. I don’t want to count them.
Can’t help it. One, two. Doesn’t matter.
Three, four. Can’t get me here.
Five, six. Quick! Hide! Seven, eight.
To hide I have to swim. Nine, ten. No
way to swim but up. Eleven, twelve.
The feet stop moving, and even this far
underwater, I hear a door snitch open.
Kaeleigh? Kaeleigh! What have you done?