Seeds of Hate (8 page)

I mimicked his gesture, knocking on the brick wall twice.

"Oh. Superstition. Good luck. Wishful thinking. I don't know really. One day I just started doing it after each conversation with Javi ended. Hopeful that there would be another."

I squinted as the sun began to appear from behind the gym. "You don't really think that he'd walk away from you now?"

Izzy placed both hands in his pockets and bounced on the balls of his feet. "No, not at all, but there are other things to fear happening or repeating themselves. It's like history says. I just refuse to believe it."

I stood up next to him, several inches below his eye level. "Some things must be worth repeating though."

"Yeah, maybe." He cocked his head to the side. "Like what?"

I pulled my lips inside my mouth and twisted my right earring again. "Can't think of anything at the moment, but I'm sure that's just a personal defect," I replied with a laugh and then reached down for my bag.

"Well, we will have to make it our mission to find something worth repeating since neither of us can give an example." His feet began to walk backward, toward his next destination.

I smiled. "Thanks, Israel."

"Please." He shook his head and scratched his chin. "Izzy. I hate my given name. If you call me Israel, I'll call you Fruity."

Pulling the strap of my bag over my head, I walked toward him and offered him my hand. "Izzy it is." And we shook.

Turning in opposite directions, we walked away. I had made a friend.

Chapter 11

Brat Pack

(Selah)

The week carried on and by Friday sitting at the brick wall felt normal. A part of my accepted routine. I had a routine. A place to belong. Somewhere to be.

It was nice.

Izzy and I had zero in common, but conversation was easy and we got along well.

"What do you usually do on the weekends?" I asked, curious as to what the Saturday and Sunday world of every other high school student but me looked like.

He was fiddling with his binder and cramming in some last minute assignment when he finally replied, "I work."

I waited for something more. An elaboration, but that was it.

"Work?" I repeated.

"Yeah, remember how I said my parents own a bakery? Well, our whole family helps on the weekends. It gets crazy busy."

"Doesn't sound so bad. Do you ever get a day off?" I asked, wondering if he had any form of a social life outside of Javier and class.

"Not really, but I'm saving up for college. I can have fun later," he replied, while continuing to focus on his assignment.

I fidgeted with my shoelaces. Looking around the campus, I positioned myself to stand and walk away.

"What about you?" he returned as he pushed his bag against the wall and finally relaxed.

"Oh, um, I don't do anything really. Home. School. Reading and homework in between. That's about it." But it would be nice to change that. It would be nice to change a lot of things.

"You don't go and do things with your godparents? Trips or dinners or anything?" he asked. Izzy was sweet, but I got the idea he felt everyone went home to people they loved. Or people who loved them in return.

"My presence is tolerated. They dragged me around when I was younger because they had to. When I hit high school, I was left home a lot. I didn't complain though. At that point, I wanted to be alone."

"Well, you are more than welcome to come and hang out at the bakery. We're busy, but at least it gives you a place to chill."

An invitation to do something? On the weekends. Act cool, Selah. Act cool.

"Sure, sounds fun." It wasn't about what I was doing, it was just about having someone to do it with.

"It's not really," he said. "But the atmosphere beats sitting at home." A soft smile pulled across his face. He reached into his pocket and brought out a handful of trash, coins and various pieces of lint.

"What time do you open?" I asked, analyzing him as he picked through it all, tossing some of it to the side and keeping others in his hand.

He looked up and handed me a small piece of paper. "6:00 AM, but you can come later. That's an unholy hour to be awake on the weekends."

I grabbed the paper and read it. It was an address and number written in pink crayon. The warning bell rang, signaling the start of first period. We both stood up, knocked twice on the brick and laughed.

"I'll see you sometime this weekend then," said Izzy as he walked away.

"I'll be there," I shouted back as we both headed to our classrooms.

***

I knew it was nothing, but to have some place to be other than home gave me a rush. The rest of the day was spent with a concrete smile in place, and I actually enjoyed school. I walked to my car with a bounce in my step that had never previously existed and an air of confidence that had been suppressed since I was ten years old.

Reaching into my bag, I fiddled around to look for my keys. Friday nights were lonelier than most because I was consistently reminded of the extravagant plans of those around me. Football games. Sleepovers. Group movie dates. Trips to abandoned houses to make out and other things of that nature. I would read another book, watch a movie or be in bed by 9:00 PM if I got super bored.

I beeped my key chain twice and reached for my door. And then it happened. My worst fear.

Public humiliation in the high school parking lot.

Something I had avoided since I started driving and Aunt Carolyn stopped dropping me off. As my face planted itself against the glass window, my mind ran through the events of the day, wondering where I went wrong. Did I talk to someone that I shouldn't? Did I walk too close to the yellow benches? If I did, did I look at Sarah, Jessica or Britney in a manner that was unbefitting to their personal taste? Did I have toilet paper dragging down the back of my skirt?

My eyes, much to the disgrace of my mind, opened up and looked down. No toilet paper. My messenger bag dropped to the ground and then began to drift across the asphalt. I lifted my head.

It was them. Of course it was them. But I didn't remember going near them...

"What are you doing talking to Izzy? You don't belong there." Britney's voice, a rusted shade of metal, grated itself against my ears.

Izzy? Why would they care about me talking to Izzy?

"Does she have to ask you again? Why are you talking to him?" This time it was Jessica. She stood behind Britney with a feral grin and pink sun-glossed lips.

"Answer, Selah." Now it was Sarah's turn to chime in. I swear they all operated off of one brain. Wait ... did they just say my name? They knew my name? I reached down to grab my bag, but several hands pushed me back against the car.

"Answer."

I closed my eyes and fought the fear and tears that were rising up from my gut. They were just girls. Just girls. Just girls. It's not like they were going to kill me. They were there to manipulate and intimidate. Be strong. Be strong.

My shoulders squared and I locked my knees—physically pretending to be more confident than my brain was willing to accept.

"He's my friend," I replied, my voice a quiet whisper. "We're just friends. Why does it matter?"

Britney, Jessica and Sarah all laughed in unison. Their combined shrill was stronger than a pack of hyenas in heat.

"You know, she's right." A male voice came from behind the pack. "Why do you girls even care? Unless, of course, one of you has the hots for him."

Nathan. At least, I think it was Nathan. He walked up beside me and leaned back against my car, popping his knee out in front of him and placing his foot flat against my passenger door. Two words came to mind—jack and ass.

"Spill. Which one of you is it?" he asked as he ran his fingers through his sweat-soaked hair. His face wasn't horrible to look at. He had that look—the one all girls go crazy for—but to me it was ordinary. Simple dark eyes, a clear complexion with a slight crook to his nose and an athletic build. His ears were large though. Holy hell, they were big. Now I knew why he wore his hair longer, to hide the Dumbo jokes. Even popular kids were afraid of being bullied. Looking up, I had a direct line of sight into his nostrils. They flared when he talked and were full of hair. I still didn't get it. Maybe he was a great kisser. A theory I would never venture to test.

He laughed. "Britney, is it you?" he asked with jest in his eyes and disappointment lining his jaw. His leg dropped and his arms crossed in front of him. No longer relaxed, he was bracing himself. I looked at Britney. She was biting her nails as a line crossed her forehead. My eyes trailed back up to Nathan. Jealous?

"He is so not my style," Britney replied.

"Then why are you slamming this poor girl up against her car and threatening her for talking to him?"

Sarah came up and stood next to Britney. "Leave it alone, Nate. We were just having a little fun." She turned her eyes to me. "Right, Selah? Just a little joking between girls. She was just leaving anyways." Sarah turned to Jessica and grabbed my bag then tossed it at me. "Like I said, leaving."

I picked up my keys from the ground and unlocked my car once more. Nathan wouldn't move.

"Excuse me?" I spoke my words at the car, but my voice was loud enough to be understood by him.

"Of course. Ignore them. They're just jealous," he said and then patted the top of my head with his hand twice, like one would a puppy.

My body froze as his hand made contact. He's touching me. He touched me. Nathan touched me. I turned to him as my face swirled with confusion. "Yeah. Just jealous," I said, and then opened my door, sat down and slammed it behind me, locking it closed.

I sat in my car for ten minutes—a very long ten minutes. They dispersed back toward their own vehicles, and within seconds, the parking lot was empty. I spent the time composing myself, breathing and drying the sweat from my hands onto my shirt.

The key sat in my ignition, still and quiet. I checked myself in the mirror, making sure the red splotches had died down and returned to their corners, waiting for the next opportunity to present themselves. There wasn't a single car in the lot except mine, but I got the feeling someone was watching me. I turned the key and started my car, my body wired from the previous exchange.

My foot pressed on the gas and as I backed out of my parking stall, I saw him. Black from head to toe with a scowl of resentment speckled across his face. I braked and put the car into park. Opening up my door I got out and looked right at him, but he didn't move. I leaned back into the car and turned it off. Placing the key in my pocket, I shut my door and started walking.

Before I met his eyes again, he got up and left. No hello. No goodbye. I leaned against my car, confused at the transaction. Watching him, he continued toward the office, so I got back in my car and left. Just before I turned out of the lot, I looked back up at the office door. He stood outside, once again staring at me. I stared back and then he opened the door and went inside.

I drove home and tried to not read into what had just happened. The minimal excitement I had gained fell away after wondering whether or not he would eventually accept my presence at the brick wall.

My godparents weren't home yet, so I went inside and grabbed a water before heading upstairs. A note with Aunt Carolyn's writing had been taped to my bedroom door.

Out for the evening. Went to the city. Might not be back until tomorrow. Dinner in the fridge.

- Carolyn

The night got a little brighter. I went to my bedroom, pressed play on my stereo and turned the volume up louder than acceptable. Grabbing a favorite from the bookshelf, I headed toward their bathroom and ran myself a bath. I dropped the book on the floor and ran downstairs to the liquor cabinet. Pouring minimal amounts from three different bottles, I then added coke. Frank would never notice.

With drink in hand, I went back upstairs, undressed and settled into my bath. I read for thirty minutes, until my brain became fuzzy. My thoughts relaxed and kept repeating my last encounter with Javier. Except each time the scenario changed and his presence prolonged. Right before I closed my eyes, Javier had approached the girls as they were throwing me against the car. He stepped in front of me, his back toward me and his scowl directed at them. I felt a tingling sensation across my skin at the thought of touching him.

He crossed his arms and said one word: "Leave." And they did, though not quietly. They whispered amongst each other loud enough to hear. Bitch. Slut. Ugly. None of which were true, well except maybe the last, depending upon the person. My eyes closed as the water turned cold, but my body remained warm. Droplets dripped down my face and my chest began to shake. Javier turned around and smiled, "You okay?" It was the first time someone had asked. My face flushed and I leaned into the porcelain tub as if it was a pillow.

Forty-five minutes later, I woke up in freezing water, with a stiff neck and prune-tipped fingers. I blinked several times in the dark room and tried to clear my head. My stomach growled in the silence. I wrapped a towel around my hair and body and then headed back downstairs. The microwave dinged as I heated up a plate of food. I sat down at the table and ate my dinner in Frank's chair with my feet propped up.