“I have known Brian since we moved here,
Willow. We’ve been working together at the school since the
fall.”
I responded with enough sarcasm for anyone
else who’d ever been wronged. “Oh, excuse me. You’ve known him for
a whole five months.”
My mother was indignant. “Why can’t you just
be happy for me once, young lady?”
“Happy for you? Happy for you?” I snapped
incredulously. “How can you just forget about Daddy like that?
Didn’t he mean anything to you?”
“Of course he did, but he’s gone, Willow, and
you need to accept that. Just because I’ve fallen in love with
another man doesn’t mean that I didn’t love your father, too.”
All the anger and frustration that had built
up inside of me for so long finally exploded.
I pointed at my mother and screamed. “You’re
a liar. You never loved Daddy, because if you did, you would never
think of marrying any one else!”
I ran from the kitchen and up the stairs and
as I ran, I could faintly hear my mother calling after me. Her
voice was muffled by a very loud, guttural sound and I realized
when I reached the safety of my room that the sound was coming from
deep inside me. At that very moment, the sound of my own sobs
drowned out my mother’s voice and all the other noises in the
entire world.
• • •
The whole week at school was both a blur and
rather uneventful. I had a ton of homework and quizzes in almost
every class, almost everyday, it seemed. That’s all I did; study,
do homework and do it all over again.
I was so thankful it was Friday. I sat as
close to the heater as I could on the ferry ride into school. I saw
Taylor and Erica at the other end of the boat, but they didn’t sit
near me. I really didn’t care. I needed a break, from school, from
them, from everyone, but I didn’t really want to stick around my
house over the weekend either. Because I had stayed home with James
overnight, my mom told me I could go out on Saturday night if I
wanted. She would stay home and babysit and made no mention of
Brian.
My mom must be making such a huge sacrifice,
I figured, because of the fit I threw when she told me she was
engaged. I hadn’t spoken to her all week long and avoided her at
all costs. When I was with her, I only gave her the most minimal
answers to her questions. She knew not to push for more.
I was so upset by her “good” news that, once
I was able to stop crying, I reached out to Becca that first Sunday
night. I had called her on her cell and she had picked up right
away.
“Hey, friend! I miss you. How are you?” Becca
had asked.
“Not so good.”
“Why? What’s wrong, Willow?”
“My mom got engaged.”
“To who?”
“To that guy Brian she’s been dating.”
I could tell I caught her off guard. “Wow. Is
he nice?”
“I guess,” I had said and was about to tell
her more when I heard giggling coming from her end.
“What’s so funny?” I wanted to know.
“Stop it, guys!” Becca had yelled at someone.
She turned her attention back to me. “Sorry about that. Gabby and
Richie are acting like idiots.”
More giggling and screaming echoed through
Becca’s phone.
“Give it back!” she yelled.
I rolled my eyes. What the hell was going on
over there? Couldn’t Becca give me a minute of her time, especially
since I was so upset?
“Willow, let me call you back later.
Okay?”
“Fine,” I said through gritted teeth and hung
up. I hurled my phone across the room where it hit the wall and
fell to the floor below. I had thrown it so powerfully, the battery
cover flew off and the battery flew even further.
I climbed off my bed so I could retrieve the
pieces and reassemble my cell. As soon as I had placed the battery
back into its proper spot, it rang. I figured it was Becca.
I sat up. “Hello?”
“Hey there, smiley.” It was Michael and I
could tell he was smiling.
“Smiley? Why smiley?”
“’Cause that’s the last thing you texted me.
A smiley face. Remember?”
“Yeah, I remember.”
“You don’t sound so smiley today. What’s
wrong?”
I proceeded to tell Michael why I was upset
and he listened intently and tried to reason with me. Michael tried
to convince me that since my mother wanted to get married, she must
have loved my father and they must have had a good marriage if she
was willing to do it all over again with Brian. By the end of the
conversation, I didn’t feel as badly about the whole thing.
“Do you feel better now?” he asked before he
coughed.
Even though I was still a little
disappointed, I had relented. “Yeah, I guess.”
“I can hear it.”
Michael had gotten excited. “What are you
doing next Saturday night?”
“Nothing. Why?”
“Wanna get together?”
“Sure. Where?”
“I don’t know. I’ll think of something
special and let you know. Okay?”
“Okay,” I had said before we signed off. I
was actually excited about our date. I couldn’t believe I
considered it to be a “date,” our first one.
Now I was anxious for the school day to be
over because I realized I’d be spending the next night with
Michael. Plus my mom promised me I could go out. I didn’t care what
we were going to do. I was over the moon at the thought of seeing
him. His mere presence, even just his voice always seemed to calm
me.
I had to persevere through eight more
grueling hours before the weekend was officially upon me and all
the fun that was sure to accompany it.
• • •
Friday at school flew by. I went upstairs to
my room when I got home and stayed up there the whole night. I only
went downstairs to get something to eat. My mom tried to coax me
into eating pizza with her and James, but I wanted to be alone and
opted for a tuna sandwich.
On the ferry ride home, I had texted Michael
to see if he had any idea about what we would do the following
night. I was getting ready to go to sleep and still hadn’t heard
from him. I checked his MyWeb status and there didn’t seem to be
any recent activity. The most recent quote under his profile
picture read: Stand with me, lie with me, walk with me through the
peaks and valleys of life. That was interesting, I thought to
myself, but why wasn’t he getting back to me?
I decided to put my cell phone on vibrate and
stick it underneath my pillow in case he called. I was really tired
and fell easily to sleep as I imagined the fun things we would do
together the next night.
When I woke up bright and early the next
morning, I assumed that Michael didn’t call because I never felt my
phone vibrate during the night. I checked it and saw that I was
right; there were no new texts or missed calls from anyone.
As I lay there, I, once again, wondered why I
hadn’t heard from Michael and if I would hear from him at all.
Maybe he was really sick and couldn’t text or call me. I was so
confused. I picked up my phone and dialed his number. It went
straight to his voice mail.
I didn’t know what to do. I finally had plans
for a Saturday night and wasn’t stuck home with my brother for
once. Now I wasn’t sure if I was going to be doing anything besides
sitting home miserably with my mother and brother.
I contemplated calling Erica and Taylor to
see if they wanted to maybe get together, but the two of them had
avoided me like the plague since I had been honest about my
feelings and their jealousy toward Tessa.
At least Erica had reached out to me when she
told me that some girls were calling Tessa and me whores. Taylor
wouldn’t even glance my way when we passed one another in the
hallways. I didn’t have time for their theatrics and decided I’d
rather stay home and twiddle my thumbs than have to try and live up
to their high ethical standards. I knew I wasn’t a whore and that’s
all that mattered.
I couldn’t believe this was happening again
with Michael. I was more worried about him than mad at him,
especially since he had confided in me about his illness. He had to
have been really sick, I reasoned, or he would have definitely
gotten back to me.
I had done some research on CF and found out
that the symptoms of the disease varied from person to person, some
more serious than others. And the symptoms and severity of CF also
varied over time. Sometimes a person may experience just a few
symptoms, other times there could be many.
The CF website said that over time, permanent
damage to the lungs could cause severe breathing problems. Early
treatment of the disease could improve both the quality of life and
actual lifespan. Luckily, as the treatments for Cystic Fibrosis
continued to improve, so did the life expectancy for those who had
it.
I couldn’t relax and lie down anymore. I sat
up, grabbed my computer and, once again, checked out Michael’s
MyWeb. Nothing. I started to worry. What if he was home, unable to
breathe or in a hospital somewhere in Portland alone? I wanted to
hear his voice, even if he was really sick, just to know that he
was okay. My dilemma about what I was going to do on Saturday night
and whom I would be doing it with now became the least of my
worries.
Saturday slowly crept by and I still hadn’t
heard a word from Michael. I was sick with worry, but there was
absolutely nothing I could do about it, except sit around and hope
that he contacted me.
My mom took James out for lunch so I took
advantage of being alone in the house and went downstairs to see if
I could find something edible. I rummaged through the cabinets and
couldn’t find anything. Finally my hand touched something in the
back. I found a stale, hard bagel. I was hungry and desperate so I
popped it in the toaster, figuring it couldn’t get any harder. I’d
just smother the deadly weapon with cream cheese and hope for the
best.
Just as the bagel-rock popped up, my cell
phone beeped, telling me I had a new text message. I didn’t
recognize the phone number, but I opened it and read it anyway. The
message was from Michael. He said that he was using his mom’s cell
phone to text me. The rest of the message read:
“So sorry about tonight. I won’t be able to get together. I’m
in the hospital doing okay. I’ll call when I get a
chance.”
At first I was disappointed that I wouldn’t
be seeing Michael later that night, but so relieved to know that he
was doing all right. I wondered why he was in the hospital and when
he went there. I hoped that he really was doing okay and that he
didn’t just say that so I wouldn’t worry too much.
Well, I couldn’t help myself. I started to
worry. How long would Michael be in the hospital and how sick was
he, I wondered? I quickly realized that I couldn’t solve anything
by worrying, so I piled on the cream cheese and tried to think of
what I would text back. “Feel better soon,” I wrote. I didn’t want
to say any more in case his mom read it.
I closed my cell phone and walked over to the
table. As I sat alone in the cold, lonely kitchen and ate my
tasteless bagel, I wished that it was nighttime and that the sky
was dark and cloudless so I, too, could wish upon a star for the
recovery of a sick boy whom I found myself falling for. Hard.
• • •
I spent most of the afternoon in my room
surfing the net and listening to music. I still had homework to do,
but wasn’t in the mood to do it. For that matter, I wasn’t in the
mood to do anything. I was too worried about Michael.
I heard my mother and brother return shortly
after lunch. I wasn’t looking forward to spending the night home
with the two of them and hadn’t yet told my mother that my plans
were cancelled. Then I realized that I hadn’t even told my mom that
I had any plans to begin with. I had avoided her as much as
possible since her latest and greatest announcement. I tried not to
think of my mom being engaged to Brian. I tried not to think of my
mom at all.
I didn’t know whom else to call to go out.
For a split second I thought of Tessa. I wondered what she was
doing, but thought better of it, guessing she’d most likely be
going to some wild party. I didn’t want to socialize with people
and make idle chit chat. I was in no mood.
As if reading my mind, my phone rang. It was
Tessa.
“Hey. What’s up?” I asked.
“Nothing. What are you doing tonight?”
“I don’t know. Why?”
“Wanna hang?”
“Where?”
“Dunno.”
“You mean a party somewhere?” I asked.
“No. No parties tonight. Wanna just come over
here? I’ll pick you up.”
“Will your brother be there?”
“Yeah, but he’s already in a stupor. He won’t
bother us.”
“What time?”
“I’ll get you at seven,” she said as she took
a drag. “Wanna sleep over?”
“Are your parents home?”