Whatever Street

Whatever Street

a collection of works by Rachel Rodgers

TABLE OF CONTENTS Poetry: Pop, Lock, and (Don’t) Drop it Whatever Street Woman Speaks on Shellshock (collaboration) City Streets of Hot Pink “That Black Boy” A Love Affair with Nature

Dramatic Writing: DON’T WALK (excerpt) The Game of LIFE (excerpt)

Fiction: MRS. BUTTER-WORTH

Non-Fiction: Younger Years (excerpt)

I met Poetry at a writing program, which was part of the 2005 World Scholar Athlete Games in Providence Rhode Island.

There she wowed everyone when she performed her poetry. I don’t know Poetry’s real name, but what I do know is that even though I’ve spent pretty much my whole life writing, it wasn’t until I met her that I understood the true strength of writing and how to fully appreciate it. She’d stand in the front of the room shouting and waving her arms as she recited, her voice drumming out the story

WRITER’S STATEMENT

drumming out the story of the challenges and tragedies in her life. When she read, I felt like I could cry, which means something because I’ve never cried watching sad movies, reading, or listening to the symphony. After that, I knew that I wanted to have that kind of impact on an audience. Since then, I’ve realized that writing needs so much more than a few good lines and technique; it needs strength and passion, the ability to get underneath the skin of the reader or listener and make them bob their heads to the beat of honesty.

Ever since I met Poetry, I haven’t looked at writing in the same way. When I write, I imagine the way it would sound when read aloud. I imagine it swaying, breaking free from the confines of a sheet of paper. Even when it’s simply being read, it needs to have that jam, that beat that makes the reader want to move. Most importantly, I remember that what Poetry wrote was the truth. Her work was raw and it wasn’t afraid to be upfront. This honesty and music in writing helps to strengthen my character and the way I view the world. The art of creative writing is a way of life, and that’s something that I’ll always strive to be a part of.

Poetry

Pop, Lock, and (Don’t) Drop It Hips sit with pride and ride with women.

They’re swimin’ through city streets to beat the heat of society’s harsh proprieties.

Hips chant for some freedom from oppression’s fat thumb.

It’s time to embrace our curves --get the respect we deserve.

As a team, we can rise above.

It’s about time to feel some love.

Our bodies will now rebel.

Our muscles contract and yell for us to come back home, escape the pressure dome.

We switch off TV and let weakness free to roam the world.

Hips can now twirl, feel the beat of the street --power.

Never sit hips.

Whatever Street Your eyes are all big and green like the marble necklaces we looked at in Maryland, at the store with the bubble wand out front. Together we blew bubbles, big like your eyes, through the streets even though I was still mad at you.

I don’t always notice the size of your eyes, just sometimes; when I’m talking and you’re nodding to some kinda whacked out rhythm, the rhythm of my speech patterns. See, it’s as you’re nodding that I notice the freckles splattered across your nose like graffiti.

The veggie boy gave us a new appreciation for graffiti.

The way stolen spray-paint colors flash across office buildings.

Catalina mist is his favorite.

He pointed it out in the alley once, (the alley we walk through).

His sweater matched. Actually, it was el sueter de mi hermana.

We cross the street, the DON’T WALK sign blinking with drowsy eyelids.

We’re at the bus stop now. I don’t know street names.

I should learn some street names.

Frank O’Hara knew some street names.

But, I guess, sometimes it’s all right to have no sense of direction ‘cause all that matters is that I follow the timeline of this friendship.

Woman Speaks on Shellshock a collaboration with Katie Bouvy The gun barrel kisses my forehad—replacing his lips, replacing his warmth. The cat is my new bedmate.

I can’t sleep at night.

I bet she’s a bombshell.

Bet she makes him happy— changes his pillowcase, serves sushi on Tuesdays, bruises his body with her lips.

These truths, like bullets, shatter my ribcage.

I can’t sleep at night.

Day is no different.

His absence is insomnia— the kind that marches in time, a gun slung over its back.

The ammunition sits cold in my belly.

I can’t sleep at night.

I don’t need guns— I’ve got my legs.

Got stilettos.

Got poise.

Here’s vengeance.

Trust me I’ll sleep at night.

City Streets of Hot Pink In city streets you roamed, late at night.

You hide, head propped on that backpack as you sleep.

You’ve always preferred to stay outta sight.

You tell me stories of hot pink spray-paint and your fight for independence. You gotta escape, constantly on the leap.

You want freedom so you roam city streets late at night.

In corners you stay crouched, avoiding light— never too thrilled to see me—insensitive, gotta keep your pride. It’s cooler, maybe safer, to stay outta sight.

I’d smile at you wanting everything to be all right.

I still have memories of chasing you that winter in bare feet.

I had to protect you from roaming city streets at night.

I still needed your help to defeat the bite of control. You weren’t there to get me outta the heat.

But you hated oppression, so you chose to stay outta sight.

She’s there for you now and I’m no longer plagued with fright.

I see you smile, pull her close. We wave. No more sleep in those city streets, late at night.

With her, there’s no reason to stay outta sight.

“That Black Boy” My neighbor says I’m too pretty to date “that black boy.”

She watches from across the street as I continue to greet you with kisses on my front porch. It’s cold, but we linger longer, holding each other closely until she heads inside, the screen door SLAMMING behind her.

How could I not date “that black boy?”—You are the yin to my yang, my number one thumb wrestling rival, my best friend.

The skinheads that live up the street sip cigarettes and SLAP their forearms with pride, their swastika tattoos glowing red.

They sit on front steps and make promises to kick “that black boy’s” ass.

Now I’m afraid to let you walk home at night, worried that they’ll get you this time— that I’ll never hold your hand again or stay up laughing during our late night phone calls.

The woman next door bounces her toddler on her knee.

She tells him that he’s gotta learn how to read so he won’t grow up to be like one of those “niggers,” like

“that black boy.” She points at you and her thin haired baby looks up and smiles. Somehow, you smile back, hoping that one day he’ll learn how to SPEAK UP—hoping that one day he’ll understand why he has to.

It gets harder every time we have to walk past my neighbors.

But you pull me close and tell me to ignore it, to ignore them.

They only see you as “that black boy.” But you promise that one day it’s gonna be different— that each and every time we walk past those neighbors with pride, we’re making HISTORY.

A Love Affair with Nature 1. The Fairest One Some fish have skin as pale as plastic wrap.

I can see their muscles pulsing and blood flowing throughout their bodies.

I can imagine their apple-seed hearts beating and beating softly inside their ribs.

Snow White was the fairest of them all, but not as fair as the fish.

They must’ve forgotten that part. I’ve never been a fish but if I were, I’d breath in and out out and in as I swam underwater. I’d watch the sun the way I used to when I was younger, at the bottom of the swimming pool.

I could never stay under long enough.

Just as the sun became purple, I had to go up to suck in pollution.

If I were a fish I’d have skin as pale as plastic wrap.

Maybe the other fish would admire the way my veins swam throughout my body.

I could be the fairest fish of them all.

2. Forbidden Love I remember the time I adopted Paris.

His wings were blue like a box of Kraft macaroni and cheese, He sat on my dresser, pinned in a frame.

I wanted to breath air into his pinkie sized body. I wanted him to sit on my shoulder, kiss my ear lobes, and tell me secrets.

I didn’t know if it was right

to buy him. Maybe it would’ve been better to protest his death. But I just couldn’t leave him there, I had to take him home.

Maybe he’d never sit on my shoulder, but I could at least watch him from afar—my fallen butterfly.

3. The Crowning My cousin, Autumn, used to make us crowns out of dandelions.

We’d put them on and dance in the rain, only when there wasn’t lightning.

We weren’t allowed when there was lightning.

Our bare feet would slap the ground as we ran through the empty streets of childhood. It smelled like humidity and vanilla bean ice-cream.

Everything seemed to slow down. Our crowns would wilt and we’d leave them in the wet grass after the rain.

She said she’d teach me how to make them too.

It never happened.

All I can do is make their heads pop off.

4. More Than Friends The white orchid waves at me. I wish I could shake his hand, ‘cause it really is nice to meet him. I think we should be more than friends, if you know what I mean.

We should go out for breakfast and throw bread to the ducks.

We should stay up late talking on the phone.

We could kiss at the movie theater and waltz the way they do in books.

My grandma taught me to waltz.

I’m not that good, but I could teach him.

When I get closer, I stroke him softly, he’s smooth and everything seems like it could happen; even the possibility of heartbreak in the end.

DRAMATIC WRITING

DON’T WALK (excerpt) This scene is an excerpt from my original screenplay, DON’T WALK. The screenplay tells the story of Dexter, a seventeen-year-old boy who is afraid of crossing the street because of a tragic incident that occurred in his past. When he unexpectedly meets Hannah on Christmas day, she takes it upon herself to help him conquer his fears. In this scene, Dexter invites Hannah over for lunch and explains why he fears crossing the street.

INT. DEXTER’S KITCHEN – DAY Hannah is looking down at the city from the apartment’s kitchen window. The window is surrounded by spider plants. The peeling kitchen walls are painted a warm yellow.

HANNAH You can see the whole city from here.

DEXTER Yeah, that’s pretty much the only reason why my mom picked this place.

HANNAH I don’t understand how you can live in the city and avoid crossing the street.

Dexter sets two sliced peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on the table.

DEXTER Easily.

He picks up half of a sandwich and starts to eat it as he paces the room.

DEXTER (CONT’D) The city’s usually full of so many people that I can just cross the street with a huge pack of ‘em. But most of the time, I just ride the bus all over the place, that’s how I get to school. I can get my mom to give me a ride sometimes too, if she has the time, which is rare. I dunno, it works for me.

Hannah sits down at the table.

HANNAH But why? What’s the point in going through all that trouble?

DEXTER (He shrugs).

It’s just hard to face things sometimes. Besides, I’m used to it by now.

He flops down in a chair. Hannah notices an ashtray full of cigarettes. She picks one up.

HANNAH You smoke?

DEXTER Nah, my mom does. She’s a fucking chimney.

Hannah tosses the cigarette butt back in the ashtray.

HANNAH That’s something I could never understand. What’s the point in smoking? I mean, I tried it once, but it just didn’t do anything for me.

DEXTER Yeah, well, she’s under a lot of stress.

That’s just her way of handling things. I don’t bother her about it anymore. She has her way of coping; I have mine.

HANNAH What do you have to cope with?

DEXTER It’s not something I like to get into.

Dexter stands up to pick up their plates. Hannah puts her hand on his, stopping him. They stare at each other for a while and then Dexter awkwardly moves away and heads to the sink. He stands still for a while, before violently dropping the dishes in the sink. He rests his hands on the counter, hanging his head.

DEXTER I was twelve…

HANNAH You don’t have to tell me.

DEXTER I know.

He turns around and faces her.

But I’m going to anyway.

He sits on the floor, leaning against the sink cabinet.

I was twelve when my brother died. He was six and I was supposed to take care of him. I was supposed to be there for him. All of a sudden he’s crossing the street and this car turns the corner and I’m just standing there, standing there watching the whole thing.

It was like I knew something was gonna happen and my whole body refused to move, refused to do anything about it. Sam was so small; he didn’t see the car. The car didn’t see him. And I didn’t do a damn thing. I just watched it knock right into him.

He was so fragile, you know? He had little ribs and a little heart and just like that he was gone. He’ll never kiss someone; he’ll never get married or be a paleontologist. He always said he wanted to be a paleontologist. I remember sitting in the waiting room by myself thinking about how this shit wasn’t supposed to happen. My mom was outside smoking and having some sort of break down because of me, because I was so stupid.

HANNAH You can’t blame yourself for something like that. It just happens; it wasn’t your fault.

She gets up and sits beside him on the floor.

DEXTER But it was, that’s the problem. I should’ve been with him. If I were crossing with him, the car would’ve seen us. He could be here right now. You’re not supposed to die like that. He was in kindergarden; he couldn’t even read for God’s sake. He had a whole life ahead of him and I took it away from him.

HANNAH Is that why you’re afraid?

DEXTER (He nods) I know it’s weird. I know it doesn’t make that much sense. But ever since he died my mom’s been working her ass off. She’s never home. I can’t have something like that happen again.

HANNAH I don’t even know what to say after all that.

DEXTER Yeah? Well, you don’t have to say anything. I just thought I’d tell you. I just thought I’d let you know that I’m not crazy.

Hannah opens her mouth to speak, but he cuts her off.

DEXTER (CONT’D) Don’t tell me that you weren’t thinking that. I would think the same thing if I were you. What freak is afraid of crossing the street by himself? It’s still weird, I know. But at least you know that there’s a reason.

HANNAH I wasn’t thinking that. I thought it was sweet.

DEXTER So that’s why you made up a lie about having such an intimidating boyfriend?

HANNAH How do you know I made that up? What if it’s true?

DEXTER

I just don’t think you’d have an empty apartment to avoid on Christmas if you had a boyfriend. Plus, I’d probably say the same thing in your situation.

HANNAH All right, well, that was only in the beginning.

DEXTER Uh huh.

HANNAH Hey, if I thought you were crazy I really don’t think I’d come to your apartment to have peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

DEXTER Okay, you’ve got me there.

HANNAH You know it.

Hannah reaches out and tickles him. He laughs and tries to tickle her. They get into a tickling battle on the kitchen floor, laughing and flailing all over the place. Finally, they stop and lay down, exhausted. Dexter puts his arm around her. They stare at the ceiling fan for a little while. Then, Hannah turns her head toward him.

HANNAH Do you think your ready to get over this?

(excerpt)

The Game of

The Game of LIFE is a romantic comedy about an unlikely couple. Even though they have nothing in common and their zodiac signs are incompatible and predict that their relationship will be short and sweet, the two quickly fall for one another. When Kay’s friend, Elaine, invites Kay to move to Chicago with her, a city where Kay could pursue her dream of becoming a talk show host, Kay must choose between this dream and a possible future with Harper. In this scene, Kay explains to Harper that she’s lost her job, which means that she has to make a decision quickly. Their differences spark conflict, and Kay chooses Chicago. Now Harper must come up with a way to win her back, or he will lose her forever.

Scene Five (This scene takes place in KAY’S apartment. HARPER and KAY are playing the board game LIFE. HARPER is sitting on the couch, and KAY is sitting Indian style on the floor.

The board game is set up on the coffee table. The zodiac magazine and bag of Twizzler’s are still there too.)

Oh yeah! I passed two paydays. Give me my money.

HARPER KAY

You’re cheating; I swear you’re cheating.

HARPER How could I be cheating? It’s the game of LIFE. You can’t cheat in LIFE. KAY (sarcastic) That’s funny. That’s really funny.

(She hands him the fake money.)

HARPER I know. I should have been a stand up comedian.

(He counts the money.)

Oh yeah, smell that.

(He holds it under her nose.)

That’s the smell of success right there.

KAY Harper, it’s not even real. It’s just a stupid game.

Just wait, in a few years it will be real.

HARPER

KAY I quit.

(She stands up and sits beside him on the couch.)

HARPER

You can’t quit, Kay. You can’t quit LIFE. KAY

I just did.

(She crosses her arms and scoots away from him.)

HARPER

Aww, come ‘ere.

Oh, fine then.

(He tries to hug her, but she scoots further away from him.)

(pause) All right, tell me what’s wrong.

KAY Nothing, I’m fine.

HARPER

All right.

(He starts to hum obnoxiously).

KAY

Stop it! You’re so annoying.

I said stop!

(He hums louder).

HARPER

Not until you tell me what’s up.

Fine, just stop.

KAY

(He stops).

I lost my job today. It turns out that I don’t have enough students.

HARPER Oh—that’s awful.

It is.

KAY

HARPER It’ll be okay though, right? Everything will work out, just don’t let it bring you down.

Easier said than done.

KAY

HARPER Yeah, I know, but we’ll find you a new one. You’ll be working in no time.

KAY

No, we won’t do anything about it. There’s no way I’m gonna get a job that pays as much in such a short amount of time. I won’t be able to pay the bills; I’ll have to find another place.

Relax, I’ll help you find something good. It’ll be fine.

(He rubs her shoulders).

(She moves away).

No, I don’t wanna deal with it right now.

When are you gonna deal with it?

HARPER

KAY

HARPER KAY

I dunno.

HARPER Kay, you can’t just ignore this. It’s not gonna go away. The sooner you start looking, the better.

KAY I said I don’t feel like dealing with it right now.

HARPER I’m just trying to help. But you’re going to have to face this sooner or later.

KAY Harper, stop acting like you know the answer to everything. You don’t know shit! You’ve always had it easy. You’ve always known what you wanted to do and how to get there. You have no idea what it’s like to be me, so quit trying.

HARPER Kay, don’t give me that. I worked my ass off in college and I’ve only started my residency. I’ve got a long way to go before I have it easy. When are you gonna grow up? You say you’re gonna do this and that, but I don’t see you trying Kay. You just sit there waiting for everything to go your way. But that’s not how it works.

KAY You want me to try? You want me to make my dreams come true? Then I’m moving to Chicago, and this, us, is over.

HARPER Kay, you’re being ridiculous.

KAY No, I’m really not. Elaine has been asking me to move to Chicago with her and her fiancé for a few weeks now. She says I can start over; maybe figure out how to start that talk show. You’re right, Harper, I can’t just wait for things to go my way. I have to go after them and you’re holding me back.

HARPER What? This is stupid.

It was your idea. You’re always right.

KAY HARPER

I’m not always right, and that’s not what I meant.

Well, then what did you mean?

KAY HARPER

I was just trying to help you figure things out.

You did. You should really pat yourself on the back.

KAY

HARPER I don’t want you to leave. I don’t want you to move to Chicago.

KAY This is the game of LIFE, Harper. Remember? You don’t always get what you want. Besides, why do you even care?

You’ll get over it.

No, I won’t. I don’t wanna get over you. I love you! (beat) I—I love you Kay.

HARPER

KAY You love me?

(pause) HARPER

I mean, yeah, I think I do.

KAY

So you’re not sure?

HARPER I really don’t want you to leave.

KAY So you’re just saying that so I won’t leave? Just because it hurts doesn’t mean it’s love, Harper.

HARPER I wasn’t—I didn’t—I do.

KAY

I’m leaving.

HARPER What? Now? Don’t, please Kay; don’t do this to me. Let me explain.

KAY I’m not leaving town. I’m going for a damn walk, Harper. (pause) And don’t be here when I come back, all right?

(KAY exits stage right.)

HARPER (He picks up the magazine.)

Short and sweet all right. I hate the fucking stars.

(He lies on the couch and covers his face with a pillow.)

(ELAINE enters from down stage right) ELAINE

Harper?

Where’s Kay?

(He sits up.)

HARPER

How did you get in? I didn’t hear you nock.

ELAINE I didn’t. Kay invited me over to watch some movies. I told her I was coming at six, but I got off work early. The door was unlocked.

Oh.

HARPER ELAINE

So—where is she?

She went on a walk.

HARPER ELAINE

Oh—why are you here?

HARPER I guess I shouldn’t be. She said I had to be gone by the time she got back.

ELAINE She said that?

Yeah—

HARPER ELAINE

Move over.

(HARPER moves his feet, and ELAINE sits beside him)

What happened?

HARPER I dunno—we got in this fight and she told me she was moving to Chicago. We broke up.

ELAINE She dumped you?

I think I should leave.

HARPER

ELAINE I can’t believe she did that. She’s been so moody lately. But she said she was moving to Chicago?

HARPER

Yeah, she did.

ELIANE You can’t let that happen.

I thought you wanted her to go.

HARPER

ELAINE I did, but I don’t think that’s what she really wants. You know? She probably just wants to piss you off, make you cry.

That’s what you were gonna do right?

HARPER Huh? Cry, you were gonna go home and cry.

ELAINE HARPER

I— ELAINE Forget it, I’ll let you keep your pride. You’re not gonna let her go, right?

HARPER What am I supposed to do?

ELAINE Every Friday morning she takes the bus to the beach to do yoga. Why don’t you casually bump into her?

HARPER What am I supposed to do when I “casually” bump into her?

I dunno, something romantic.

ELAINE HARPER

Like what?

ELAINE I have no idea; just use your imagination. Now get outta here before she gets back.

HARPER Thanks.

(stands)

ELAINE No problem, but if you screw it up, I wasn’t involved. ‘Kay? (He nods and exits stage right. ELAINE grabs a Twizzler, puts her feet up, and begins to read the magazine

that was left on the table).

(Black out).

FICTION

MRS. BUTTER-WORTH Natalie had dreamt about Mrs. Butter-Worth, which led her to the decision that it’d be unholy to start her day without pancakes. She’d never understood the pancake making process, and so she opted for the frozen pancakes that she’d snuck into the refrigerator a few months before as a cruel joke. It amused her to torture her dad by leaving tempting foods around the house. To those who didn’t live with them, this disrespect for her dad’s eating disorder would seem completely immature and out of line, but it was the only way that Natalie could secretly get back at him for making her feel miserable every time she looked in the mirror or walked past a storefront window.

Natalie dramatically slapped butter onto her pancakes and doused them with syrup, transforming them into a sweet and high calorie masterpiece. Her dad watched in disgust as he nibbled on his baby carrot. The color of the day was orange, which was reflected on her dad’s breakfast plate. Four orange slices, four slivers of mango, a cup of light orange Jell-O, and four carrots, including the one that he was presently nibbling on, neatly sat around the rim of his plate. Dieting had ruled her dad’s life ever since her mom had left them and ran off to California to marry some hippie and live by the beach. Natalie still hung on to a vivid memory of her mom tossing overweight suitcases into the back of her pick-up truck, hanging all over her new man throughout the process. She gave Natalie a kiss on the forehead, leaving a doll pink lipstick stain behind. Natalie then watched as her mom drove off, laughing and turning up the radio in order to flush out the shouts of the family she was leaving behind. Her dad cried on the front steps, burying his head in his hands. They never saw her again.

After his wife’s departure, Natalie’s dad convinced himself that his weight had been the majority of the reason why she’d lost interest. It was then that he decided to dedicate his life to calorie counting and suffrage. His new dieting plan was to pick a color each morning and spend the rest of the day eating foods that were only of that shade.

He also had a thing for even numbers, so he’d do his best to make sure that he had even amounts of each food choice.

This, Natalie thought, was obscure, but she never bothered to share her opinions because she knew that it wouldn’t go over well. Her dad had always been the, “I’m right, you’re wrong,” type.

“Eating that shit is gonna kill you and everyone who has to look at you,” her dad commented, jabbing his spoon at her to emphasize his point. “You sure are killing me.” Her dad wedged a scoop of his Jell-O into his mouth and shook his head in disapproval. Natalie ignored him, but he didn’t allow this to hold him back. “You know, if you

weren’t such a lazy ass I could help you. This new dieting plan has helped me drop pounds like that.” He snapped his fingers. “Don’t you wanna be skinny?”

Natalie had become accustomed to his morning criticisms and she refused to let him see the weight of his insults. She didn’t respond, but instead continued to eat her pancakes, making sure to moan with delight after each bite. When the pancakes were finished off, she added to the dramatic performance by dragging her finger along the plate and delighting in the last drops of Mrs. Butter-Worth maple syrup.

Natalie’s finger licking made her father cringe. “You’re hopeless,” he said, getting up and heading towards the trashcan. “Because of that disgusting display, I’ve completely lost my appetite.” He scraped his food into the garbage.

“Sorry.”

“You’re too old for this bullshit, you know that? I paid for you to go that fucking art college you insisted on and here you are, mocking me.”

“I didn’t mean it,” she said as she squirted more syrup on her plate.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He grabbed her plate, threw it in the sink, and then headed off to bed.

Once she’d heard his bedroom door close behind him, Natalie allowed herself to feel some satisfaction. She’d gotten back at him in the only way she knew how, which was to instill a jealousy in him. Natalie knew that the only reason why he’d “lost his appetite” was because he was just afraid that he’d give in to his urge for a magnificent pancake breakfast.

_____________________

Natalie couldn’t roll her R’s and she didn’t really like tacos, yet she spent most of her days preparing tacos at Los Tacos Pocos, a small Mexican restaurant that was only a few blocks from her apartment. The place was kind of run down, inhabited by rusted chairs and tables that were plagued with wobbly legs. The only pleasant thing about the restaurant was the nametags, which was most of the reason why Natalie was able to bear working there for such a long time. It pleased her to glance down at the smiling taco that was pinned to her shirt reading, “Natalie.” No matter how badly her day was going, that taco was always there to cheer her up; it’d never even think of criticizing her for being a failure. Natalie wished her dad could be more like the taco, but then again, that would just be silly.

As Natalie carefully fixed a taco for the very slender and statuesque woman standing before her, she imagined what it’d be like to be blessed with such a figure. It’d been Natalie’s dream to be a famous actress, but with her body, she knew it’d be a waste of time to even bother auditioning. This is why, after finishing college, Natalie returned home and applied for a job at Los Tacos Pocos. She told herself that once she’d lost some weight, she’d go to New York City and hit it big. But, deep down, she knew that’d never happen. Dieting wasn’t her thing and she was convinced that it’d be useless to even attempt.

Natalie wrapped up the taco in wax paper, put it in a paper bag that was printed with the same smiling taco as her nametag, and handed it over, wishing she too could eat supreme tacos and still fit into a size 00. As Seth rung her up at the register, spilling the change all over the floor, Natalie imagined the woman later jogging ten miles on the treadmill, sweat glazing her face like a fresh donut, and the thought made her feel a little better. Natalie knocked Seth out of the way and picked up all of the change; he was always dropping things and she was getting fed up with the clean up it resulted in. “Have a good one,” Natalie said as she slammed the register shut.

Natalie had always despised running. Even as a kid, she hated playing tag because it seemed to be more of a death sentence than a fun playground activity. Instead, she’d act out scenes from her favorite Disney movies or color in her great array of coloring books that she kept in a neat stack under the living room coffee table. Her dad never liked Natalie’s tendency to avoid exercise, but that wasn’t surprising because he’d never had her best interests at heart.

When Natalie’s dad had decided to start dieting, he insisted on pulling her down along with him. This meant diet pills at nine, color coordinating foods, and an incredibly displeased stomach. In her opinion, the reason why she was overweight could all be accredited to him. He had trashed her metabolism and made her resort to sneaking foods in order to quiet her stomach’s constant complaining. On top of everything else, it ruined their relationship. It wasn’t difficult for Natalie to develop a hatred for her dad and his nagging. Why should she love a man that made her feel ugly and intolerable? Still, she was probably destined to spend her entire life with him, living in that shitty apartment.

And that was just about as painful as the thought of going for a run.

When Natalie’s shift was finally finished she felt as if she were going to collapse with exhaustion. Sometimes she was actually jealous of all of the minors she worked with; their longest day was eight hours, which seemed pretty good right about then. She took off her taco pin and slipped it into a drawer behind the counter with all of the others.

Natalie didn’t feel badly about leaving it behind for the night because it was still grinning enthusiastically; at least someone was always there for her. After hanging up her navy work apron, she went to fetch her tote bag from the mini locker that’d been assigned to her a year ago. But inside, she found something that was quite unexpected. A small plastic swan pleasantly sat in front of her bag, and underneath it was a note. At first, Natalie stood still, unsure of how to handle the situation. It wasn’t her birthday, and even if it were, why would someone choose to give her a toy swan as a gift? Carefully, Natalie picked up the swan. It was nicely detailed, with feathered wings, a black eye mask, and a sweeping orange beak. She then picked up the note. The penmanship looked like a sloppy writer’s attempt at neat handwriting, which made the note all the more fascinating. “If you were an animal, you would be a swan.” It was a simple message, yet it greatly confused her. Swans had a delicate and graceful reputation, both of which had never been used to describe Natalie. In her opinion, it would’ve made more sense for the mysterious gift giver to leave her a plastic hippo, or even an elephant, but definitely not a swan. In fact, a swan was so unlike her that she felt that maybe it’d been delivered as some kind of cruel joke. Maybe if she were the thin customer she’d prepared a taco for earlier that day she’d understand, but in this case, it made no sense whatsoever.

Natalie thought of crumpling the note and throwing both it and the swan into the nearest trashcan. Even though this idea gave her great pleasure, Natalie had never been one to toss out even the most horrible of gifts, and so she dumped them both into her bag and tried to forget about the whole affair. But there was one thought that she couldn’t get out of her mind, who had had the audacity to leave her such a sarcastic gift?

____________________

On Wednesdays, Los Tacos Pocos always appeared to be in the worst state possible, for it seemed that no one was in the mood for tacos on a Wednesday. This may’ve been because most people didn’t feel wild enough for cultured food in the middle of a rough work week, or because customers felt that the tacos wouldn’t be as fresh on a Wednesday because supplies weren’t delivered until Thursday. Natalie wasn’t sure which was more likely, but what she did know was that Wednesday was always the worst day to be scheduled, and today, she was unlucky enough to receive an ten-hour shift of hell.

Natalie stood behind the counter, dipping chip after chip into a basin of bubbling nacho cheese as she waited

for a customer to hurry in with a grumbling stomach and pocket full of cash, begging to be spent on a taco or freshly grilled quesadilla. Every time someone would walk past the store window, Natalie would drop her chip, straighten up, and rush towards the register, hoping that maybe they would be the first customer of the day. But she always ended up being disappointed and was left staring at the lonely tables and neatly swept floor that were hungry for company and companionship. She’d then return to her nachos and, with a metal ladle, she’d fish out the chip that she’d carelessly dropped in the cheese.

What made the day even more dreadful was that the assistant manager that worked on Wednesdays wasn’t very much of a conversationalist, and even if he were, he couldn’t speak English very well. Once she’d tried to ask him about his wife: “Is she pretty?” she’d asked “Huh?” “Is she pretty?”

“No comprehende.”

“What?”

“Que?” They both sighed, and then returned to their work, giving up on one another. This had been a sad day for the both of them because it was then that they realized that their time together in the future would be mundane.

Now they’d be left alone with their thoughts and nothing to make the day go by any faster. The only company that Natalie could rely on was the grinning taco nametag, and she couldn’t talk to it because that would come off as odd and would, in the end, turn out to be pointless because it couldn’t respond.

As she waited for the customers that would never come, Natalie thought about the gift that was left in her locker the day before. She still hadn’t figured out who it could be from and she was incredibly frustrated by this, for she’d spent all night racking her brain for some kind of clue. No one rushed to her mind as a possibility and she didn’t think that anyone she worked with would be disrespectful enough to play such an immature joke. Everyone at Los Tacos Pocos had always been very friendly and she wasn’t aware of any rude comments that they may have made about her. In fact, everyone seemed to get along with her quite well and they were even able to get past her appearance, which her dad felt was capable of murdering those who were unfortunate enough to cross her path.

After four hours of standing around and attempting to figure out a puzzle that seemed to be impossible to decode, Natalie was finally permitted to go on break. When her boss had pointed at her and uttered two of the few

English words he knew, “You eat,” Natalie had felt the urge to kiss him on the forehead. But, of course, she didn’t do this, for that would’ve turned into a strange and uncomfortable situation that she wasn’t willing to ignite, but she did make sure to exchange smiles with him as she headed for the backroom to get her lunch.

Natalie was very excited about her lunch because she’d woken up earlier than needed so that she could take her time packing it. Annoyed, her dad stuffed small spoonfuls of cottage cheese in his mouth as he watched her slowly fold slices of meat, cheese, and lettuce onto a bed of sourdough bread. Along with her sandwich, she packed a walnut brownie, a bag of potato chips, and an apple into a grocery bag. As she left the house, she delicately placed the last piece of her strawberry Pop-Tart on her tongue, chewed, and licked her lips with satisfaction. Successfully annoying her dad was always the best way to start out her day.

Inside her work locker, Natalie was startled when she found a second gift, this one just as strange as the last.

At first, it just appeared to be an ordinary box of Crayola crayons, but when she opened the box, it only contained blue crayons. Various shades of blue lined the walls of the box in neat rows. All but one, were old crayons that had been freshly sharpened. The darkest of the crayons was still dulled and Natalie soon discovered that it was this crayon that had been used to write the note that accompanied the gift. “I noticed that your favorite color is blue.”

________________________

It was raining outside and as Natalie wiped down the tables, she allowed the pitter-patter of the rain on the roof to quiet her mind. For a few days, Natalie had been driving herself crazy with fear that someone had been stalking her. Not only did it bother her to imagine being closely watched, but she was also appalled that someone would even want to watch her. She was perplexed at the idea that there was someone who found her to be fascinating, maybe even worthwhile. All of this led her to the conclusion that whoever it may be, they were obviously a loser that was resorting to her because there was no other option for them.

For a little while, she’d convinced herself that maybe the gifts had been put in the wrong locker. Possibly, the secret admirer was infatuated with someone else she worked with. This seemed to make a lot of sense, but the problem was that Natalie’s favorite color was, in fact, blue. Ever since she was a kid it had been her favorite color by far and she’d spent years contemplating why blue wasn’t the first color of the rainbow, for all of the other colors

should have been envious of its perfection. But what she didn’t understand was how the admirer could have known this. Sure, she wore blue often, but not often enough for it to be a prominent quality. This is how she decided that whoever it may be that was leaving her presents in her locker was a stalker, for the only way they would’ve known what her favorite color was is if they’d had the opportunity to peek their head into her bedroom.

Natalie’s room reflected her obsession with the color blue, for she had carefully painted the walls blue and picked out a nice goose feather comforter to match perfectly. She was proud of her blue utopia, but was certain that no one other than herself had been inside it for quite some time. It’d been years since she’d invited friends over because she’d been so busy working. Besides, she’d lost the majority of her friends over the years because she hadn’t bothered to keep in touch. Neither had they.

“The traffic today was so fucking crazy!” Jess hurried out of the backroom. “But I got here, clocked in at exactly two o’clock. Give me five.” He threw his hand up in the air for Natalie to slap it. She did. “And there was this women—this crazy ass women that was like picking her nose or something—I don’t even know—but she was busy in her rearview mirror, that’s for sure. Anyways, so guess who was lucky enough to get stuck behind her for half and hour?”

“You?” “Yeah, me. Why me?

Natalie shrugged.

“See, you don’t even know why. It was gross. I tell you what, it was so fuckin’ gross. You’d think she was in Egypt diggin’ for some dinosaur bones or some shit like that.”

“Are there dinosaur bones in Egypt?

“I have no fucking idea. But that’s really not the point.”

“I guess not.”

“Natalie, I love you. You’re like a mouse. You’re like a little baby mouse,” he playfully rubbed her head.

“A mouse?”

“Yeah, you’re always so quiet. You never have a damn thing to say. But I like that about you. It means there’s more me time. You know?”

Natalie had considered telling him about the whole secret admirer situation, but now she was glad that she’d

decided against it, partly because he’d just complemented her on the fact that she never talked about herself and also because Jess had never been successful when it came to keeping secrets.

When Natalie’s shift was completed, she was pleased with herself for keeping her secret admirer situation to herself. For the first time in a while, Natalie had enjoyed her day at work. She’d made some of the best tacos she ever had and the rain had helped her relax. After cleaning up her station, tucking her nametag into its drawer for the night, and hanging up her apron, Natalie calmly headed into the backroom. Ever since the first gift, Natalie had always felt nerves ping-pong in her stomach when she’d head for the backroom, but this time, she was calm. It’d been a week since the last gift, which meant that she was able to take a deep breath and tell herself that the games had come to an end. Her life would go back to normal and there’d be nothing on her mind other than work and self-pity.

Once she’d reached her locker though, she was shocked to find a boy knelt down in front of it, holding a handful of peacock feathers and what looked to be a note. At the sight of him, she’d lost the will to speak and, instead, simply stood there and watched, her heart racing and a line of sweat building on her upper lip. Natalie couldn’t move.

She had no idea how she should handle the situation before her. Should she just straight out ask him what was up?

Maybe shout for her boss? Call the police? Run? None of these options seemed to be the proper way to react and she couldn’t figure out what the proper way, if there were a proper way, would be. Natalie’s breathing became heavy with fear and before she’d had the chance to calm herself, the boy had noticed her. It was then that Natalie recognized him.

Seth dropped the peacock feathers, just like everything else he got his hands on. He blushed, his cheeks pink as they were in his youth. It wasn’t until then that Natalie realized that she’d known him long before he started working at Los Tacos Pocos. Natalie’s first job had been to babysit him. She remembered how nervous she was the first time his mom came to drop him off. Natalie had been fourteen at the time, Seth was a six-year-old tyrant who refused to listen to her and completely destroyed all of her childhood coloring books, scribbling mustaches on Donald Duck and tearing pages out. It’d been a horrendous experience, but she continued to babysit him for a few months until the school year started up again.

Seth had grown up. He had messy, mouse brown hair and gorgeous hazel eyes that were shaped like Christmas almonds. The pink fled from his cheeks and Seth confidently stood up, towering above her. He handed her the feathers and note, which read, “Meet me at the zoo. 2:00, Saturday. I’ll be wearing blue.” He winked at her and

turned to leave. To her surprise, Natalie quickly reached out and grabbed his shoulder. She wasn’t exactly sure of what to say, but what she did know was that she couldn’t go out on a date with someone she’d once babysat. Seth stood before her, sporting a sly grin as he waited for her response that didn’t seem to be on its way.

Seth broke the silence. “I know. It’s kinda shocking, right?”

Natalie nodded, still unsure of how to respond.

“I mean, I haven’t really talked to you since I was what? Five?”

“Six.” “Whatever, six. Age doesn’t really matter, though. Does it? Society is progressing, getting past that bullshit.”

Natalie thought over what he was saying, and at the same time, calculated that he was sixteen, meaning that they were eight years apart. In her opinion, that was a significant amount and it was understandable why society would object to such a relationship. Still, he seemed so eager and as she listened to him rattle on about how great of a time they would have at the zoo, it seemed like it wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

“It’ll be great. I promise it’ll be great,” he said. “I even heard that a baby elephant was born a little bit ago.

Don’t you wanna see the elephant?”

“I guess so.”

“You have to. Before you know it, it’ll be old. There’s no excitement in that.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re all old. You can see the old ones anytime, but not the baby elephant. The baby elephant is a limited edition.”

Even though it sounded odd to refer to an animal as a ‘limited edition,’ Natalie couldn’t disagree. It’d be nice to see the elephant and it’d also be nice to have someone to spend the day with. A trip to the zoo would break-up her everyday routine, which would be a good thing for her because she’d have something that she could look forward to.

On top of everything else, she couldn’t help but feel flattered. Seth was the type of guy that could hand pick the girl that he wanted to take out for an extravagant day trip to the zoo, and he’d chosen her, why? Just like the majority of the elephants at the zoo, she was no longer as young and exciting as the girls Seth could’ve invited from school. She needed to figure out why he’d decided to ask her instead, but she didn’t know if it’d be justifiable. On one hand, going out with him wasn’t accepted in society, but on the other hand, she didn’t want to hurt his feelings and ruin her

chances of uncovering the mystery behind the situation by refusing. She then, successfully, came to a compromise. “I’ll go out with you.” Seth flashed an enormous smile. “But as a friend.”

His smile fell, but still, he nodded. “Fair enough, but you better be there, ‘cause we can’t leave the elephants waiting.” Seth laughed and as Natalie watched him put on his work apron and pass through the swinging doors that lead to the restaurant, she couldn’t hold back the excitement that was beginning to build inside her.

___________________

Natalie had absolutely no idea what to wear on a date that wasn’t technically a date. She pulled shirt after shirt on over her head, but none of them looked right. It’d been a long time since Natalie had gone shopping, partly because of the fact that store lights accentuated every one of her imperfections, and also because she was so busy paying off her college debts that she hadn’t had enough money left over for clothes. This hadn’t really bothered her until now, for it’d been awhile since she’d needed to attempt to make herself look good. On top of everything else, she felt ashamed for putting effort into her outfit because she shouldn’t have cared what he thought, right? She could still remember watching The Lion King with him and making him mac n’ cheese for lunch. It was wrong for her to be spending such a long time choosing what outfit would make her look the most desirable. And what would his mom think of their outing to the zoo? Would she be okay with it, or find Natalie repulsive for spending the afternoon with her sixteen-year-old son?

After trying on most of the shirts in her closet, Natalie decided that she should just go with a simple, purple turtleneck, and dark-wash jeans. It’d been forever since Natalie had squeezed herself into a pair of jeans, and she quickly realized why, for they were incredibly uncomfortable in comparison to the collection of black sweatpants that she wore daily. Natalie then combed her hair, which had become knotted from all of the tops she’d tried on, drew on some lipstick, and grabbed her purse.

When Natalie opened the front door, she found Seth standing there with his arm raised, prepared to knock. He was wearing a t-shirt that had wide stripes of brown and bright blue, like he’d promised.

“You look great,” Seth said, his eyes scanning her body. It made her feel self-conscious and she wished that she’d worn bagger clothes so he’d have less to criticize.

“What are you doing here?” Natalie crossed her arms, trying to cover a little more of herself up.

“I decided I’d come pick you up.” Seth tossed his car keys in the air, caught them, and began to swing them around on his pointer finger.

“How did you find my house?”

“I just asked my mom.” He told her, as if it were no big deal. “So—you ready to go?”

Natalie nodded her head, still bewildered as to how he could talk to his mom about his day out with his exbaby sitter. She then followed him down the stairs and out of the apartment complex. His car was a little beat up, but it was still nice and relatively new. He opened the door for her and as she waited for him to walk around to the driver’s seat, she watched the pine tree air freshener gently rock back and forth on the rearview mirror. The fact that he could drive was completely unexpected because Natalie had assumed that he’d be too young to drive. Yeah, he was sixteen, but she couldn’t help but think of him as a little boy.

Seth slipped on a pair of stylish driving glasses, put the keys in the ignition, and carefully backed out of the parking space in front of Natalie’s apartment. As they drove along, listening to Rusted Root, a band Natalie recalled introducing to him years ago, she couldn’t help but stare at him. He truly had grown up, and she was ashamed to admit to herself that she found him to be incredibly attractive. This made her feel even more vulnerable and worried that this whole thing was some kind of prank. What she couldn’t figure out, is why he’d go through so much trouble picking out intriguing gifts if he just wanted to get a kick out of it. But Seth then did something even more startling than showing up at her house out of the blue; he reached out and clasped her hand. Natalie almost pulled away, but managed not to do so and was pleased that she’d ignored the impulse. His hand was warm and it wasn’t sweaty in the slightest, which was something that most of the guys that Natalie had been with suffered from. After she’d allowed him to hold her hand for a few minutes, Seth looked over and flashed her a sultry smile. He seemed to be excited that she was loosening up and allowing their time together to turn into the date that he’d planned.

“You’re sexy, you know that?” Seth said, taking advantage of the moment as he rubbed his thumb against the back of her bare hand. Natalie blushed and looked out the window, worn houses flashed past and Natalie pretended to be so intrigued by the neighborhood that they were driving through, that she forgot to respond. “You don’t, do you?”

“What?”

Seth shook his head and returned his eyes to the road. Natalie wished that he could understand that she couldn’t respond to that question. Of course she didn’t find herself to be sexy. No one had ever told her that before, not even the small handful of boyfriends that she’d had over the years had ever used the word ‘sexy’ to describe her. This hadn’t ever bothered her though, because she didn’t find them to be sexy either; that wasn’t what she looked for in a man. As long as they were friendly enough and good to her, she didn’t care whether or not they’d be categorized as attractive. This was one way she’d tried to differentiate herself from her dad. Unlike him, she did her best not to judge other people for their shortcomings, which was one of the few qualities she admired about herself. But she made up for this kindness by making herself miserable. If she were thin, then maybe Natalie could be happy, but until then, it was impossible, for in her mind, they went hand in hand.

Usually, Natalie despised having someone look at her because she felt that they were analyzing all of her faults, but Seth had become an exception. She wanted him to divert his eyes from the road, make eye contact with her, and forgive her for playing the dumb card. She wanted him to tell her that it was okay if she didn’t want to respond, that he understood and that he too has felt insecure at times, even though she knew that this was quite unlikely. She wanted to see him smile again and know that he wouldn’t hold it against her. But what he did was better than that.

Seth grabbed her hand and kissed it. “It’s no problem,” he said, his eyes fiercely locking onto hers. Natalie couldn’t help but look away, but she knew that this time he understood. He held her hand all the way to the zoo, and she was able to safely conclude that their date was, in no way, a joke. __________________

“Did you know that elephants are the only animals that can’t jump?” Seth asked Natalie as they peered through the fence that separated them from the massive gray mammals that were swaying in the last of the summer heat.

“Nope. I didn’t know that.”

“Well, it’s true. Just think about how sad that is; they have no shot at escape.” Seth shook his head in disbelief.

“I mean, imagine being an elephant.”

Natalie watched the elderly elephants’ eyelids droop as they mournfully used their tails to swat flies off their rear ends and it didn’t take her long to come to the realization that it truly would’ve been unpleasant to live their

lives, not that she’d ever had the urge to in the first place. But what she wouldn’t mind is being incapable of jumping, for that would be a good excuse as to why she didn’t participate in physical activities. “It’d have its ups and downs,” Natalie finally concluded, relishing in the pun that she’d just made.

He laughed. “I guess it would.”

Just then, a zookeeper led the baby elephant into the habitat. The elephant walked slowly, his ears flopping.

Unlike the others, he looked happy and Natalie understood why Seth had been so excited to see him. “He’s so small.”

“Do you want to take his picture?” Seth handed her the camera, grinning childishly.

Natalie hadn’t held a camera since she was a kid. This was because she absolutely despised having her picture taken and figured that if she didn’t take pictures of others, they would return the favor by doing the same for her. “I don’t think I know how,” she told him, slightly ashamed, but hoping that confessing would get her out of it. Natalie had convinced herself that taking a picture now would be bad karma, resulting in her appearing in many horrible pictures throughout the rest of her existence. Avoiding taking a picture of the elephant now seemed to be the safest decision.

She handed the camera back to Seth and started to walk away, hoping that he’d follow her to the next habitat, but, sadly, this didn’t work out as she’d planned, for Seth was just as determined and set in his ways as he’d been as a kid. He grabbed her arm, stopping her from moving on, positioned himself behind her, and took it upon himself to teach her how to properly take a photo. Usually, it would’ve been at this point that Natalie would’ve broken away, but to her surprise, she stayed and allowed him to put his hands over her own and help her focus the picture, his breath warm on her neck. As he babbled on about line and presentation, Natalie just concentrated on how wonderful it was to be wrapped in his arms and inhale his scent, crushed spices and cold summer nights. She pondered what it was that was responsible for such a pleasant aroma. Possibly a hand carved bar of soap or expensive bottle of cologne? For a minute, she considered asking him, but then decided that it’d be quite off-topic and rude to interrupt his passionate spiel. Plus, if she were to ask such a question, she’d be letting on that she found something about him to be remotely attractive, which would be another step in the wrong direction. She’d already crossed the line by holding his hand and she didn’t want their trip out to go any further down this immoral path. “…and then you just click.” Seth helped Natalie press the correct button, and the picture was taken. Natalie was disappointed that they couldn’t see the picture right away. This was because Seth didn’t believe in digital

cameras and felt that they ruined all of the mystery of photography. When the photo was developed though, he promised that he’d give her a copy.

As the day progressively got hotter, Natalie progressively got better at taking photographs. At least, this is what Seth told her. After each click of the camera, he’d insist that this roll of film would turn out to be brilliant, and a lot of that brilliance would be accredited to her and to, well, him, of course. Seth complimented his own eye for photography just as much as he’d flatter hers. He went on and on about how he’d grown up with his eye to a lens and that’s why he was sure to be someone important when he got older. Natalie remembered when she too thought she was going places; Seth’s naive dreams were so similar to her own, that she had the urge to laugh, but she held it back in order to avoid explanation.

“Polar bears are left handed,” Seth stated when they’d reached the polar bear exhibit, his camera dangling around his neck like a string of pearls. This, Natalie was aware of, for her kindergarten teacher had informed them of this on their annual elementary school trip to the zoo. That particular trip had been wonderful because the class had gathered at the park afterwards for a grand picnic where they all munched on cold lunches that the school had packed for them in white paper bags. A lot of the students would complain about the cold lunches, but Natalie secretly liked them. The lunches always contained an apple juice-box, a sub with generous amounts of meat and cheese, animal crackers, and a piece of fruit. She’d happily sip her juice and listen to the other kids discuss their favorite animals. This memory was a long time away, but it was still a vivid image that she longed to relive. Natalie didn’t tell Seth about the trip though because he seemed so proud of himself and the facts that he’d noted throughout the day. Even though his arrogance repulsed her, Natalie didn’t want to burst his bubble. Instead, she just nodded her head and kept quiet.

At the Zebra Café, Seth told Natalie that she could pick any flavor of ice cream she wanted, his treat. She decided on a single scoop, in order to make herself appear to be dainty, of French vanilla on a sugar cone. French vanilla was a simple flavor, but Natalie had always found a comfort in simple foods. Seth ordered a double scoop of birthday cake ice cream, a flavor that she remembered him choosing when she’d taken him to the local ice cream parlor when he was a kid.

“Still your favorite?” Natalie asked him, even though she felt the question was awkward.

“Always has been. Always will be.” Seth licked at his cone, getting a bit of it on his nose. After wiping the ice

cream off with a napkin, he purposefully shoved his ice cream cone in Natalie’s face, mimicking the cute moment that newly weds often perform with cake at their receptions. But Seth’s attempt of reenacting this moment didn’t work out as planned and Natalie ended up with a significant amount of ice cream stuffed up her nose and in her eyes.

Before Seth had had the chance to speak, Natalie hurried off to the bathroom to splash some water on her face and get cleaned up.

“Are you alright?” he asked when she’d finally returned.

“Yeah.”

“I didn’t mean for that to happen. I was just trying to—“ “It’s fine.”

“Are you sure? Did I embarrass you?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said, even though she was still a little frustrated because her face was sticky and she wasn’t sure if she’d gotten all of the ice cream out of her nose. She stored a mental note that if she ever were lucky enough to get married, she’d make sure not to go through with the traditional cake in the face routine.

Natalie and Seth settled onto a bench that was bathed in sunlight and licked at their ice cream cones. It seemed strange that Seth was continuing to consume his ice cream cone despite the fact that it’d been shoved up her nose, but she didn’t comment on the matter and instead watched him eat his cone, smiling with every lick. The sun massaged Natalie’s shoulders as she watched and her vanilla ice cream was beginning to roll down her hand and onto her wrist. As she wiped up the mess with a brown napkin, a question popped into her mind, and after a little encouragement, she finally convinced herself to spit it out: “Why a swan?”

Seth laughed. “Well, it’s simple really.” Seth finished the last of his cone and licked his fingers clean. “You kinda resemble a swan. I’ve always thought so.”

Natalie shook her head; it was a completely ridiculous response and she was actually kind of insulted by its outlandishness. “I don’t see how,” she said as she hurried over to the trashcan to toss out her napkin, Seth following along behind her.

“Would you like me to explain?”

“If you feel the need to.” She flopped herself back down on the bench, secretly hoping that he’d go into detail.

“Well, first of all, swans are delicate—“

“I’m anything but delicate.

Seth held his hand up to quiet her. “This is my opinion, not your opinion. Got it?” Natalie nodded and allowed him to continue. “They’re delicate and pale, which are features that you share. Also, they’re mysterious, and I’ve always found you to be a little mysterious.”

“I’m mysterious?”

“Yeah, you’re quiet and in your own world. I think that makes you mysterious.”

“Is that why you asked me to come on this date?”

A sly grin spread onto Seth’s face, “Oh, so it’s a date now?”

___________________

Natalie sat up in bed; her nightshirt was soaked threw with sweat and she recalled having a nightmare but she couldn’t remember any of the details. The sound of the phone ringing echoed throughout the house, giving Natalie a headache. She answered the phone in a dream like state. and in a dream like state she answered the phone.

“Hello?” she whispered in a voice that sounded distinctly like her mom’s used to after she’d smoked a pack of cigarettes.

“It’s me!”

“Who?” Natalie asked, pulling the phone a little farther away from her ear.

“Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I’m serious.”

The person on the other line sighed. “Seth. It’s Seth. Come outside.”

“Why?” Seth’s yelling was beginning to make Natalie’s head throb and she wished that he’d leave her alone so that she could go back to sleep. Being woken up in the middle of the night was one of Natalie’s greatest pet peeves and Seth’s screaming was definitely not making the situation any better.

“It’s a nice night. It’s warm out and I want you to go on a walk with me. I’ve been thinking about you all night,” he told her, this time in a gentle voice.

Usually, this kind of response would’ve won her over, but she was hot, grumpy, and had no interest in running

around at 2 am. “I vote no,” she said.

“Please, I can’t sleep unless I see you.”

“That’s too bad.”

“I won’t go away. I swear I won’t, so you might as well come out now.”

Natalie knew that this was true, for she was quite aware of the fact that Seth was too stubborn for his own good. Realizing that there was no way she’d get any sleep with Seth pestering her all night, Natalie told him that she’d be out, hung up the phone, and untangled herself from her blankets. Before heading outside, Natalie combed her hair and put on a little mascara, attempting to make herself presentable.

Seth was sitting on the front steps of the apartment complex. The dull orange porch light that was left on every night spilt over him and mosquitoes circled around the crown of his head. When he heard the door open, Seth hopped up. “I knew you’d come,” he said, hurrying down the steps and beckoning her to follow. “Isn’t it a great night?”

He eagerly jogged in place, waiting for her to respond.

The warm night air brushed Natalie’s shoulder gently, forcing her to agree. She headed over to him and as they walked to the river, Natalie couldn’t help but feel like a kid again. It was like she’d snuck out for the night, something that she’d never been brave enough to do in high school. Even though she wasn’t truly sneaking out, for she was twenty-four and free to go as she pleased, the excitement of the whole situation was enthralling.

“I’m glad you finally gave in.” Seth reached over to hold her hand and Natalie didn’t reject it, but when he rested his hand on her face and went to pull her close to him, her mind was flooded with images of him in matching sweat suits that were printed with jungle animals and pink Kohl-Aid stains around his mouth. He went to kiss her, but she was haunted by these memories of his childhood, and so she backed away.

“What’s the problem?” he asked.

“I just can’t.”

“Why?” “Don’t worry about it,” she said.

“I just want to know why. Tell me why,” he ordered, but she kept quiet. “Goddamn it. Do you always do this?”

“Always do what?”

“Say nothing. Are you mute or something?”

“No….”

“Well then answer the fucking question!”

Natalie was shocked. His outburst had been so unexpected and she honestly had no idea what to say or how to respond. She didn’t want to answer the question; it’d probably just hurt his feelings. How could she tell him that, to her, he was still that six-year-old and that she couldn’t get those images out of her head? There was no way that that was what he wanted to hear. Besides, if she did tell him the truth, how would he react? This, Natalie was afraid of, and so she was in a pickle. But somehow, he’d noticed the fear on her face and he calmed down.

“I’m acting like a freak, aren’t I?” Natalie nodded.

He sighed and diverted his eyes to his feet. “I’m sorry. I just—I’m not used to rejection.”

“It’s fine,” Natalie said as she began to imagine all of the other girls that apparently hadn’t rejected him. They were probably beautiful. Tall. Thin. Leggy. Everything she wasn’t.

“Am I blowing this?”

“Well—” “Never mind. Don’t answer that question. Let’s just forget this. Can we just forget this?”

“Sure.”

He smiled and held her hand tightly. They were silent for the rest of the walk, but somehow it wasn’t an awkward silence and once they’d reached the river Seth and Natalie sat on the concrete dock and dangled their legs over the edge. Seth snapped photos of the yellow city bridges that crisscrossed the river like nicely tied shoelaces.

They were silent and Natalie could hear cars race over the closest bridge. She remembered visiting the river once as a kid and swimming in her cotton Minnie Mouse underwear. The memory was fond, but there was no way she’d ever reenact the moment. This was partly because of the fact that everyone insisted that Pittsburgh’s three rivers were filthy, her Minnie Mouse undies had been thrown out, and also because she despised the way she looked when she wasn’t fully clothed.

“Hey,” Seth said, interrupting Natalie’s memory, “I’m gonna take your picture.

“No way.” Natalie shook her head, laughing.

“Turn your head this way.” Seth grabbed her chin and forcefully turned her face so that she was looking out

over the river.

At first, Natalie had thought he was kidding, but the grip of his hand on her chin proved that he was honestly going to try to ignore her protests, which Natalie didn’t handle well. She knocked Seth’s hand away. “You’re not taking my picture.”

“Come on, it’ll be fine. I’m a professional,” he joked, but Natalie kept a straight face. She didn’t find anything about the situation to be funny and she had an overwhelming urge to grab his precious camera and throw it into the river. Imagining the sound of the KER-PLUNK it’d make when it hit the water pleased her. “Please. I promise it’ll be great.” Seth’s face became serious and he scooted closer to her. “It’d be impossible for it not to be.”

“That’s bull shit.” With that, Natalie stood up and began to speed walk towards home.

“Where are you going?” Natalie didn’t respond and continued on her way, Seth following along behind her like a duckling. They didn’t talk the whole way back to her apartment building and when she finally reached the door, Natalie didn’t expect to see him when she glanced over her shoulder, but there he was. He stood slumped over, staring at the ground, and Natalie couldn’t help but feel a little badly for hurrying off so abruptly.

“You wanna come in?” she asked, unlocking the door. Seth’s face lit up and he followed her inside and up to her apartment.

“It looks the same,” Seth said as he flopped himself down on a kitchen chair. “Exactly the same.”

Natalie poured two glasses of orange juice, handed one to Seth and then sat across the table from him. As she sipped her juice, she looked around the room: alphabet magnets from her childhood cluttered the fridge, the paint on the walls was peeling, the kitchen table was covered with coffee rings, and a browned spider plant hung above the sink, all of which she’d stopped noticing years ago. “I guess it hasn’t changed.”

“You know, I’ve liked you ever since I was five.”

“Six. You were six, Seth.”

Seth rested his head on his hands. “You never noticed me though. No matter what I did, you never noticed me.”

Natalie didn’t know what to say and in order to avoid a response, she decided that it’d be a good time to load the dishwasher. She rinsed dishes and loudly stacked them into their spots, trying to take in what he’d just told her.

Natalie wasn’t sure whether or not she should be flattered or disturbed by Seth’s comment. In a sense, it was sweet

that he’d had a crush on her as a little boy, but to harbor that crush for eight years was just pushing it. Natalie latched the dishwasher door shut and leaned against it, realizing that she had no way out of the situation. “I’m sorry,” she finally said; it was the only thing she could think to say.

Seth shrugged. “I can forgive you. I’m a forgiving type of guy.”

“I’m glad.”

“And, you know, you can always make up for it.” Seth crossed the room, wrapped his arms around her waist, and nibbled at her neck and earlobes. “I’ve gotten your attention now,” he whispered.

That was something that Natalie definitely couldn’t object to. He had gotten her attention by leaving her mysterious gifts in her locker and now by sending shivers up and down her spine. He led her into her room and they laid down on her bed. Seth reached his hand under her nightshirt; it felt cold on the stomach she’d loathed for years.

Ashamed, she stopped him and rolled over. He didn’t pressure her, but instead curled up beside her and fell asleep.

Natalie allowed the rise and fall of his chest against her back to lure her into a dream that was much sweeter than the one she’d had earlier that night.

____________________

The sun, nature’s alarm clock, parted Natalie’s curtains and licked her face. She’d completely forgotten about the night before and when she woke up to find Seth lying beside her she almost fell out of bed in shock. At first, she couldn’t remember how he’d gotten there, which she found to be quite disturbing. Did he sneak through her bedroom window in the middle of the night? It seemed possible, but Natalie wasn’t sure. In order to avoid waking him up, she quietly slid out of bed and gathered a fresh change of clothes for work.

It wasn’t until she was brushing her teeth, carefully making sure to give each tooth individual attention, that Natalie remembered what had gone on that night. She decided that quietly escaping from bed had been a good idea; the last thing she wanted to do was confront him about the situation because she honestly had no idea why she’d even allowed the night before to take place. In order to make sense of what’d gone on, Natalie decided that she was obviously in some sort of sleepwalking state, which meant that she should be excused for her poor decision-making. It was ridiculous to get romantically involved with someone so young and she found her behavior to be embarrassing.

Once she’d finished getting ready for the day, she remembered that she’d have to face her dad. Natalie’s dad worked the night shift at a gas station a little while away from their apartment and he usually slept during the day.

This, she thought, would be helpful on this particular morning because she was hoping that when Seth woke, her dad would already be asleep and wouldn’t find out that he’d spent the night. If her dad discovered Seth, Natalie knew that he’d mock her endlessly. Not only would he find it amusing that an attractive guy was actually interested in her, but he’d also get a real kick out of the fact that Seth was eight years younger than she was. This, Natalie would never live down and it’d be a topic that’d take place over many breakfasts down the line.

As Natalie walked into the kitchen, her dad pushed a plate towards her. “I made you breakfast,” he said. The plate cradled two slices of honeydew and two pieces of broccoli.

“Who eats broccoli for breakfast?” She asked as she hurried over to the fridge to grab a bagel.

“Tons of people, thin people.”

“I’m not eating that.” Natalie sliced the bagel and spread cream cheese on both halves.

“But you’ll eat a bagel?” He sighed. “You know, I’m just trying to help you. Losing some of those pounds you’re packing would do you a lot of good.”

Natalie shoved her bagel into a plastic bag in order to hurry along her escape. “Yeah, well, I don’t need your help.” She rushed out the door, but when she got outside, she threw the bagel in the nearest trashcan and as she walked to work, she did everything in her power to avoid spotting her reflection.

During her walk, a yellow school bus passed by and a little girl made a face that reminded Natalie of a dinosaur and then gave her the finger. This was just the cherry on top of Natalie’s awful morning and she had a feeling that the day would get progressively worse as it went on. Then, a thought popped into her head, just like the little girl, Seth probably had to go to school. Instead, he was sleeping in her bed, which was next door to her dad’s room. Seth would be late, but Natalie didn’t care because she felt that he’d taken advantage of her by convincing her that it was alright to date a high school boy, a boy that had to wake up at six in the morning and spend the day writing essays and picking teams in Phys. Ed. That atmosphere seemed to be so far away and it was an experience that Natalie never desired to revisit. High school was terrible, so why would she ever want to build a relationship with a kid that hadn’t yet broken free from the constraints of adolescence? It was obvious that he’d brainwashed her.

That was something that she could never forgive, and so she didn’t regret not waking him up for school.

When she got to work, Natalie was pleasantly greeted by Jess. She was relieved to see him, because he always made the day go by faster and it was nice to see someone that would help to improve her morning. It was still early, ten o’clock, so there weren’t very many customers yet, which meant that Jess and Natalie could share a bowel of nachos and dish out the latest gossip. He told her all about this cute guy he’d met in the produce section at the grocery store a few days before. At the same time, the two of them had reached out to grab the last fresh tomato, their hands brushing. Both Jess and the grocery store hottie insisted that the other should take the tomato, but neither would do so and they playfully argued until they could come to an agreement. “We decided that we’d share the tomato,” Jess said, grinning as if this decision would influence the rest of his life.

“Wow, how are you gonna manage that one?” Natalie asked.

“He’s coming over tonight! And we’re making a salad and pasta and then watching late night TV,” Jess explained, leaning forward in excitement. “Romantic, right?”

Natalie agreed, hoping that he’d continue to explain his upcoming date so that her chance to share would never come. She’d promised herself that she wouldn’t tell a soul about the sleepover with Seth. Her theory was that if she kept the whole story a secret, it’d be as if it never happened. In order to prolong Jess’s tale, Natalie asked him nonstop questions and by lunchtime she knew exactly what Jess’s crush looked like, what they both were wearing the day they met, and what recipes would be used to prepare their intimate dinner. Jess had even taken the time to write down all of the recipes on a blank receipt, Natalie nodding as he explained the steps and pretending as if she were really capable and interested in cooking.

Just as Natalie was slipping the folded receipt into her back pocket and listening to Jess explain the last of the preparation details, Seth appeared from the backroom wearing his apron and taco nametag.

Seth grabbed a tortilla chip from the bowel Natalie and Jess had been sharing. “Where were you this morning?”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean is that when I woke up, you weren’t there.” Seth leaned against the counter. “So what’s up with that?”

Natalie looked at Jess and saw him raise an eyebrow, obviously aware that something was going on. She wished that he was the type of guy that would realize that now would be a good time to walk away, but Jess wasn’t

that type of guy. Jess was the type of guy that would instead stay and wait to uncover all of the juicy details. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” That was about all that Natalie could come up with as a response because she had absolutely no idea what to say in order to get herself out of the awkward situation before her.

“It’s not like I’m anything to be ashamed of,” Seth said as he walked towards the register to take care of the customer that’d just walked in.

Jess bumped Natalie playfully with his hip. “I know I wouldn’t be ashamed. ” “Nothing happened!” Natalie said before turning her attention to the petite blond that Seth was presently flirting with at the register. The girl greatly reminded Natalie of an owl. This was mostly because she had huge blue eyes that took up most of her face, her nose and lips dainty in comparison. Natalie watched as Seth won her over, complimenting her mood ring, which changed from blue to brown as they laughed at one another’s jokes and swapped phone numbers.

“We should hangout sometime,” he said as he handed her a handful of change. “Sometime soon.”

“Yeah? That’d be hot.” She winked.

“Well, then it’s a date.”

For a reason she couldn’t explain, Natalie suddenly became incredibly pissed off. A hate for the blond beauty began to grow in Natalie’s stomach and she was envious of how forward she was. Natalie had never been seductive.

She’d never described a date as ‘hot’ and she’d definitely never winked. Natalie wasn’t even sure if she knew how to wink. She thought of attempting it, but the girl had already reached the taco fixing station and Natalie didn’t want to make a fool of herself. But when it was time for her to fix the girl’s taco, Natalie made sure to fill it with as much meat and cheese as possible so that she too would become fat and undesirable.

“Are you sure it’s nothing?” Jess asked after Natalie violently shoved the taco bag into the girl’s hands.

“Let’s just say that if there ever was anything going on, which there wasn’t, it’s over now.” Natalie returned to the bowl of nachos she and Jess had been sharing and sulked, shoving chip after chip into her mouth. She decided then and there that she truly needed to end her relationship with Seth and there was no way around it. He was obviously too immature to understand that what was going on between them was not acceptable and that it was important to keep it a secret. Even though she hated to admit it, the blond girl was a better choice. Not only was she attractive and thin, she was his age, all of which Natalie could never be.

Throughout the rest of the day, Natalie kept to herself and as she fixed tacos and rang up customers she felt Seth’s eyes on her back. She knew there was no way he’d talk to her, partly because he must’ve sensed that she was upset and also because he’d probably been insulted by her complete denial of what had gone on the night before.

When Natalie got home, relieved that the day was finally over, she headed to her room to pass out, hoping that the next day would be better. But when she went to crawl in bed, she found a surprise on her pillow. It was a page torn out of an old coloring book, which pictured a huge ant crawling across a picnic blanket. She recalled having the picture in one of her childhood coloring books. The book was meant to teach kids their ABCs, so each page had an animal or insect that started with one of the letter’s of the alphabet. Accompanying the coloring page was, of course, a note. “Go on a picnic with me tomorrow? I’ll be waiting at the top of Flag Staff Hill at 12PM.”

_______________________

For some unknown reason, Natalie found herself boarding a bus that was headed toward Oakland. Natalie hated the bus and she was definitely not excited about the walk she’d have to take to Flag Staff once she’d reached Oakland. She had no idea what had possessed her to go through all this trouble to attend a silly picnic with a guy she wasn’t exactly happy with at the moment. On top of everything else, the man who was sitting next her wasn’t exactly in the right state of mind. He was carrying on a very heated discussion with a woman that was nowhere to be found.

The man apparently thought that she was standing in the aisle, for he was shouting in that direction, but Natalie saw no one, nor did the others that were watching the display. They stared as he ranted, shaking his fist and squishing his eyebrows together so that it looked like a furry caterpillar had made itself at home on his forehead. Apparently, this imaginary woman had been having an affair with the dog walker that lived in the apartment upstairs and he wasn’t going to put up with it. Eventually, he got so fed up that he grabbed his grocery bags and hurried off the bus. Natalie hoped that they’d work it out.

When she finally got off the bus, Natalie’s stomach began to twist into knots. She wished that she would’ve just stayed at home, for she truly had no interest in seeing Seth. In fact, she found him to be incredibly annoying lately, which further made her question her decision to come. On top of everything else, Natalie was wearing a dress. Natalie never wore dresses and she was beginning to greatly regret her clothing choice as well. It was stupid for her to come

and it was stupid for her to dress up, but now that she found herself at the bottom of Flag Staff Hill, there was no turning back.

When Natalie reached the top of the hill, she scanned her surroundings for Seth, but he was nowhere to be seen. In case he was simply late, Natalie found a good spot in the grass to settle down and within a few minutes she was asleep. She dreamt that she had a pet fish, which she’d neglected to feed for weeks. It died. Its fins were torn and it floated at the top of the bowl, grayed and with eyelids of slime. Just as she was about to scoop it out of its watery grave, someone shook her shoulder. She opened her eyes to find Seth squatted beside her and holding up a picnic basket. It was a blond wicker basket and she complimented him on its beauty; he explained that it’d belonged to his great grandma at one point in time, and his mom was the first to claim it after her funeral. They settled down on a Star Wars blanket that he’d brought with him and he laid out an array of freshly prepared foods. There was homemade chicken, pasta with Alfredo sauce, potato salad, hard-boiled eggs, zucchini bread, strawberry apple pie, cherries, juice boxes, and a bottle of white wine.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked,” he explained as Natalie stared wide-eyed at the spread of food before them. He popped the cork off of the wine bottle and poured her a glass. “I’m surprised you came.”

Natalie took a sip of the wine, wondering how he was able to get his hands on a bottle at his age. She figured that he’d stolen it from his parents, or that they’d carelessly given it to him. “Yeah, me too.”

“I’m really glad you did though, ‘cause I spent all morning cooking.” Seth handed her a paper plate and then began to fill his own with mounds of food.

“You made all of this?”

“What can I say? My family loves to cook.”

Impressed, Natalie grabbed a piece of chicken and a slice of zucchini bread. They both tasted incredible and it was obvious that if his photography dream didn’t work out, he could have his own cooking show one day. It’d be like Emril, crowds cheering as he threw spices into a skillet. “Bam!” he’d shout, the audience breaking down with delight.

She decided that it really had been a good idea to come after all, for if she hadn’t she probably would’ve had to eat a bowel of Raisin Brain for lunch, which in no way compares to the cooking of a true culinary artist.

The wine was warm in her throat, the sun hot on her back, and as the picnic went on and they talked about favorite movies and music genres, Natalie began to forgive him for the day before. She even allowed him to sit a little

closer to her and share her pie fork. It was an exquisite picnic, nothing like the picnics she’d ever gone on with her family or elementary school class. It was more like the picnics she’d seen in romantic movies, aside from the Star Wars blanket that is. She still didn’t understand why he’d chosen to take her out when he could’ve easily gotten the blond owl faced girl, but she decided to put this aside and just accept the fact that he had odd taste.

Seth then pulled one last thing from the picnic basket. It was a gift wrapped in newspaper comics. He sat it on her lap. “I hope you like it.”

Natalie hated when her dad would open presents because he’d take an immense amount of time making sure that he didn’t ruin the paper. He’d carefully peel off the tape and then fold the wrapping paper up after he’d gotten to the gift inside. The bottom drawer in the kitchen cabinet was full of recycled Christmas and Birthday wrappings that they rarely resorted to, so Natalie had never understood the effort to keep the gift-wrap in perfect condition. Once she’d torn the wrapping paper off of the gift Seth had given her, the newspaper in shreds, she was greeted by a framed photo.

“I took it when you were sleeping,” he said, obviously nervous that she’d run off again. The picture was surprisingly good-looking; she had to admit. Her head was gently rested on her pillow, her walnut brown hair strewn across it like a fresh bed of snow. She was curled up with her hands tucked under her chin and she looked small under all of her blankets.

“It’s great,” she told him.

“You serious?”

“Yeah, I actually am. I look--” Natalie couldn’t say it.

“Beautiful,” Seth said, finishing the sentence for her and pulling her closer to him. He always knew exactly what to say in order to make her feel good about herself, and she supposed that this was the subconscious reason why she’d come. She was glad she did. Natalie then rested her head on his shoulder and felt lucky that he’d come into her life all those years ago, and again now. She still held the picture in her hands, unable to put it down.

___________________

It was a Thursday and Natalie had had a hard day at work. One customer cheated her out of five bucks, which

forced her to put five of her own dollars into the register to replace it. She poured nacho cheese all over herself. And then Jess successfully made fun of her all day long because of her secret relationship with Seth. When she finally got home, all she could think about was calling Seth. Ever since the picnic, Natalie had taken up the habit of talking to Seth every night before bed. She didn’t really have an interest in the bulk of what he said because he mostly talked about school, soccer, Halo, and funny moments that’d taken place during his day, all of which she didn’t have much of an interest in. In fact, she didn’t pay attention a lot of the time and would often fall asleep on the phone; it wasn’t her fault that he had absolutely nothing interesting to say. Still, the long talks were worth it because Natalie was always able to corner him into complimenting her. She’d tell him about an insulting comment her dad had made that day so that he’d have to comfort her and reassure her that she was gorgeous, or she’d complain that she could never be a famous actress because she was fat, and again, he’d have to boost her confidence.

When Seth answered the phone, Natalie breathed with relief because today she was especially dependent on his capability to cheer her up. “Hey,” he said, turning down the stereo that’d been blasting in the background.

“I need to see you.”

“Yeah?”

Natalie nodded her head, but then realized that he’d have no way of knowing about her nod, and so she answered with a simple, “Uh huh.”

“It’s a school night,” he said.

“And your point is?”

“I don’t think my parents would dig that. I’ve been slipping up.”

“What’s one more slip up? Come on.”

“No. I can’t come.”

“You don’t have to stay long, just for a bit. Please?”

“I’m sorry.”

Natalie hadn’t expected him to put up a fight, and she found it to be kind of irritating. This was the first time she’d initiated their hang out and she felt that he should’ve been thankful that she was truly taking an interest. “Can’t you just sneak out or something?”

“I told you, I just can’t. I really can’t.”

“I promise it’ll be worth the trip,” Natalie whispered in a luring tone, which surprised her. She’d never attempted to be sexy and she honestly had no plan for the evening, which means that her promise could easily turn into a lie. But whether it was true or not, the promise had convinced him and he told her he was on his way.

After scurrying to make herself presentable, Natalie struggled to come up with some form of entertainment for the evening. Desperate, she grabbed an array of board games and set them out on the coffee table along with a variety of snacks that she was able to scavenge from the bare kitchen cupboards.

When Seth arrived, his hair and button up shirt were soaking wet. “I didn’t have time to grab an umbrella on my way out.”

“I can see that. But I’m just glad you were able to make it,” Natalie said as she led him over to the couch. “I’ll grab you a towel.” She fetched a sage colored bath towel from the bathroom, which Seth used to dry his hair, leaving it in an even sloppier state than usual. But the sloppy looked worked for him, and so this was excused.

“Waffles?” Seth eyed the plate of food that she’d arranged.

“They’re chocolate chip!”

“Cinnamon is better.”

“Well, I didn’t have cinnamon. I only had chocolate chip.”

Seth then invited himself into her kitchen and went through the cupboards until he finally retrieved a jar of reduced fat peanut butter and a butter knife. He then poured himself a glass of super skim milk and returned to the living room; Natalie watched as he spread a thick layer of peanut butter onto a waffle. Her dad would’ve found the display to be disgusting, and in this case, Natalie agreed. She’d hated peanut butter ever since she’d overdosed on Reese’s one Halloween night, which resulted in a horrible stomachache and an unfortunate trashcan that accompanied her for the rest of the night.

Seth gulped his milk, and stared at the games Natalie had stacked on the table. “So, we’re playing board games?”

“Well, I thought it’d be fun. You always liked board games when you were a kid.” Natalie picked up her favorite. “I have Monopoly.”

“Oh.” Seth looked at his feet, and Natalie began to regret inviting him. She knew that playing board games was a lame idea, but she’d hoped that the whole ordeal would’ve turned out better. “This wasn’t exactly what I’d had

in mind,” Seth continued. Again, his eyes trailed towards his feet. His socks were blue. “I guess I misread you’re invite.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I dunno. Forget it,” he said.

“Come on, you can tell me.”

“Well, if you’re sure.” Seth ditched his waffle. “Something more like this,” he said and then began to kiss her.

His mouth tasted like peanut butter, but Natalie put up with the taste and allowed the kissing to continue. When Seth crawled on top of her, Natalie felt the television remote control dig into her back, but still, she didn’t stop him. And when Seth stuck his hand up her shirt and pulled it off over her head, she didn’t object this time, and when he reached to unbutton her jeans, she didn’t object to that either.

When Seth finally climbed off of her, their clothing scattered about the floor, Natalie curled up beside him on the couch and felt worthwhile, possibly for the first time in her life. She could feel his heart beating loudly under his naked chest and she pulled a quilt over them, shielding them from the cold. They sat silent for a while; the only sound that could be heard was the muffled conversation that came from the apartment next door. Natalie ran her fingers through his still wet hair.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” Seth eventually said, breaking the silence that Natalie had found as a place of solitude. Natalie became nervous, for she was afraid that he was going to tell her that he was in love with her and she wouldn’t know how to respond. She hadn’t grown up in a world of “I love yous.” Her dad was never one for expressing sentiment, and she doubted that he was even capable of truly loving someone because of how passionately he hated himself.

“Homecoming is next week,” he said, now making her worry that he was going to ask her to accompany him to the dance. Natalie couldn’t go to his homecoming dance; it’d be silly for a twenty-four-year-old to go to a high school event. Besides, she hadn’t even gone to her own homecomings when she was in high school. She began to scan her brain for a polite way to turn him down. “And I asked someone else,” he finished.

“You asked someone else?” Natalie didn’t know why, but she was shocked. It made sense that he wouldn’t ask her, but still, she was kind of offended. How could he ask someone else when he’d been seeing her? He thought she was beautiful and witty; he’d told her this. So why did he have to ask someone else to the dance? It seemed that it would be a lot more considerate if he just didn’t go.

“Yeah. I asked Lauren. She was that girl that came into the restaurant a little while ago.”

“The blond?”

Seth nodded his head, confirming the fact that he’d planned a date will the skinny owl-faced girl that Natalie despised. “I hope you’re not mad.”

Natalie shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not mad,” she lied.

“Really? That’s great,” Seth put his arm around her, grinning. “There’s one more thing.” Natalie looked up at him, hoping that he’d tell her that he had no interest in Lauren, that he was fully dedicated to her. “I can’t see you anymore.”

____________________

Natalie hadn’t slept all night. Instead, she stayed up crying into her pillow, her tears interrupted every so often by the loud cracks of thunder outside her bedroom window. The dreary weather seemed to set the mood, encouraging her to pity herself. From the beginning, Natalie had felt antsy about pursing a romantic relationship with Seth. She’d told herself over and over again to drop it, move on, but she hadn’t. Natalie had ignored her instincts and now she was paying for it.

Many times, she replayed the situation that’d occurred only a few hours before. Natalie swearing and shouting at Seth to leave, throwing waffles at him as he hurried towards the door to escape. Her behavior had been embarrassing and immature, especially the waffle part, which made the break-up even worse. On top of everything else, was it truly a break-up? She wasn’t sure, for they’d never made their relationship official. This technically meant that it was all right for him to ask someone else to the school dance. But their time together on the living room couch should’ve changed that. He should’ve gone back to Lauren and explained that she’d have to find a new date to the homecoming dance. This, Natalie felt, would’ve been the just way to handle the situation. Instead, he’d taken the asshole approach, leaving her to spend the night sobbing like a child.

Through her tears, Natalie eyed the framed photo on her nightstand, the one that Seth had taken of her when she was sleeping. She thought of smashing it, but she couldn’t bring herself to do so. The picture displayed her as someone who was beautiful, and it’d even begun to convince her that it presented the truth. Without Seth, she’d need

this photo to comfort her.

When she heard the door slam behind her dad, arriving home from another night shift, Natalie felt like she could die. The last thing she wanted to do was start her day off talking to him, especially because she already felt that the day would be awful. Why add to the problem? But she had to get up and eat breakfast because work was at ten and Natalie was never one to be late.

Once she’d finally gotten herself to climb out of bed, she slumped into the kitchen, her blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Her dad was already sitting at the kitchen table, eating a small bowel of oatmeal and nibbling at a rice cake between spoonfuls. Natalie wasn’t in the mood for breakfast, but she poured herself a glass of orange juice anyway and sat across the table from him.

“You look like a train wreck,” her dad said, setting down his spoon. Natalie ignored him and continued to sip her juice, doing her best to keep from making eye contact. “Did you even take a shower this morning?” Still, Natalie didn’t reply and her silence began to frustrate him. He got up to wash his breakfast bowel. “You’re pathetic.”

“Fuck you,” Natalie mumbled.

“What?” He was shocked, unable to move. Even though the bowl had been thoroughly rinsed, he left the water running.

“I’m not pathetic.” The comment surprised her, for she’d never been one to stand up for herself. But the lack of sleep she’d had that night had left her irritated and ready for battle.

Chuckling, he loaded the bowel into the dishwasher. “That’s a joke, if I ever heard one.”

That sent Natalie over the boiling point; she stood up and violently pushed her chair into the table, spilling her orange juice. “You know what? I can’t put up with your bullshit anymore.”

“You’re making a mess.” After grabbing a washcloth from the drawer beside the sink, her dad rushed over the wipe up the orange juice. Natalie ripped the washcloth out of his hands and threw it across the room.

They stared at one another, neither daring to speak. Instead, their argument turned into a fierce staring contest, one that involved clenched fists and self-constraint. Natalie had the urge to grab the skinny man and throw him across the room too. He’d gotten so thin that she could’ve even broken him over her knee. But she didn’t. She stood still, waiting to see how he’d react, how he’d handle the situation.

“Go pick that up,” he finally said.

“No.” “I said, pick it up.”

“I’m not a goddamn dog.”

“Why can’t you just grow up? Huh? Tell me that.”

“Because of you. Because of the way you talk to me,” she said.

“Of course, it’s all my fault.”

“Well, yeah; it’s clear as Christmas. You’ve pretty much abused me my whole entire life.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“You know you have. I used to sneak food into the closet for God’s sake, because I didn’t want you to criticize me for actually eating something.”

“That’s because all you’d ever eat was Twinkies and—“ “It was real food, Dad. I was hungry.”

He shook his head and Natalie knew he’d run out of things to say. It was the truth; he couldn’t deny it. He was the reason why she’d developed an eating disorder, why her self-image was a disaster, and why she’d never had the bravery to move on with her life or, as he put it, ‘grow up.’ Natalie waited for him to apologize, to admit that he’d been wrong, but he didn’t do anything to clear up the argument. Instead, he just turned and started to walk away, headed for his bedroom door.

“Where are you going?” He kept walking. “How are you just gonna do that? How are you gonna walk away from me?”

“I’m going to bed.” He went to open the door, but Natalie ran up and slammed it shut. “Get out of my way,” he said, looking towards his feet the way Seth had.

“Look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why? How hard is it? I’m not asking much.”

He still kept his eyes on his feet. His socks were white like his breakfast. “I don’t want to.”

“After all that, you’re still ashamed of me, aren’t you? You think I’m a fat loser?” He didn’t answer. Natalie slammed her hand on the doorframe. She’d slammed it so hard that she had to hold back from showing the pain. “Just

answer the question.”

“Yes,” he said and then slid into his bedroom and quietly closed the door behind him.

Natalie stood still, unsure of what to do next. She didn’t know if she should cry or bang on his door until he came out. Instead, she just went back to the kitchen, poured herself another glass of orange juice and traced the coffee ring stains on the table with her index finger. She thought about what Seth had said the night after their walk, about how the place looked the same and that nothing had changed. But it wasn’t just the place that hadn’t changed; her dad hadn’t changed either. Suddenly, Natalie couldn’t understand why she’d continued to live with him all her life. He’d never been good to her and she definitely wasn’t happy staying with him; so what had held her back? Why was it that she hadn’t had the bravery to stand up to him until now? And why had she allowed him to convince her that she was worthless? He was an anorexic for God’s sake; what did he know about being healthy and beautiful?

Nothing. He knew absolutely nothing, and yet she’d believed every word of what he’d said. Natalie then decided that there was only one thing left to do, which was to get the hell out of there and get her life back.

Natalie headed into her bedroom and began to neatly fold T-shirts and sweatpants into a duffle. It felt almost as if she were a little kid again, packing to runaway from home. She’d planned on it a few times when she was younger, usually after her dad had made her fell particularly awful about herself. She’d run off to her room and stuff her things into a small wicker suitcase that was meant to hold a tea set for a baby doll she’d gotten for Christmas one year. As she’d pack, Natalie would think about what food she’d need to bring in order to survive and where she’d go once she’d escaped. The truth was, she knew there was nowhere for her to run off to, and so she’d put everything back in their proper drawers and dream of someday gaining freedom.

Now that Natalie was finally getting ready to move out on her own, she didn’t feel as angry as she had when she’d prepared to runaway all those times. This was surprising because her dad had just admitted that he thought his only daughter was a fat loser. It wasn’t that hearing him say this didn’t hurt her. It was just that, deep down, Natalie had known how he’d felt about her all along. She didn’t even know why she’d bothered asking. But at least she’d finally gotten him to admit the truth and he’d know why she was leaving and why she’d always hated him and hopefully he’d realize that he’d never been the dad that he was supposed to be. He’d never given her piggyback rides as a kid, encouraged her to become the actress she’d always dreamt of, or even looked at her with the smallest ounce of love. Leaving would be a good thing, for the both of them.

___________________________

It was the next morning by the time Natalie was ready to leave, for she’d spent an entire day packing and preparing for her move. When she came into the kitchen for breakfast, dragging her bags behind her, her dad wasn’t there. She fixed herself some frozen pancakes anyway and sat at the empty table. Even though the two of them had always despised one another, every morning since she was a kid they’d eaten breakfast together. She poured Mrs. Butter-Worth maple syrup on her pancakes, and waited. Still, he didn’t come, and she decided that she’d better eat before her pancakes got cold.

Finally, after Natalie was halfway through her breakfast, her dad stumbled into the kitchen. He eyed the bags that were waiting beside her chair and wagged his finger at her. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re staying here.

You’re staying right here.” He wobbled towards his chair.

“Are you drunk?”

“I’m not.” He went to sit but missed and fell on the floor. “Not at all.” He broke out into laughter.

“You are.” Natalie grabbed him by the elbow and helped him up and into his chair.

“I am,” he said, and then turned his attention to her plate. “Look who’s having pancakes for breakfast again?”

He began poking her stomach. “You are!”

Natalie grabbed his hand. “Stop it.” She was squeezing it so hard that she thought she was going to break his bones. Thankfully, someone knocked on the front door before she had the opportunity.

“I’ll get it!” Her dad shook her hand off and hurried towards the door. Natalie didn’t bother chasing after him.

If he was going to make a fool of himself in front of their mystery guest, he deserved it. She sat back down at the table and buried her head in her arms. She couldn’t believe that for a brief moment during her packing, she actually thought he’d learn some kind of lesson from their argument—what bullshit.

She heard her dad unlock the chains on the front door. “Who the hell are you?” he asked.

“I just need to talk to Natalie.”

Natalie looked up. It was Seth, failing at his attempt to push past her dad.

“No you don’t,” her dad said, struggling to shut the door in Seth’s face.

“You really don’t,” Natalie said as she headed towards the sink to rinse her plate.

Finally, Seth broke away from her dad and rushed towards her. “Please, just hear me out.”

“I’ll pass,” she said, for she truly had no interest in hearing some pathetic excuse as to why he’d completely ditched her. The whole break-up, if you could even call it that, had been out of nowhere, which had led Natalie to the conclusion that whatever his excuse may be, it’d be complete nonsense.

“Please. I’ll keep it short.”

Natalie’s dad shook Seth’s shoulder. “How old are you anyway? Fourteen? Are you fourteen?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Natalie, why are you messin’ around with some fourteen-year-old? You really are a lost case. You know that?

A lost case.” He shook his head.

“What the hell?” Seth turned his attention to her dad.

“You too. You’re a lost case too. Natalie’s not worth it. You should just go home. Get ‘outta here.” Her dad latched onto Seth’s arm and dragged him towards the door.

“What’s wrong with you?” Seth pulled away from him. “How can you even say something like that?”

“I dunno. How can you take interest in that,” Natalie’s dad said, pointing his thumb in her direction. “She’s probably four times your size. Four times!”

“She’s not even fat!” Seth turned to face Natalie. “You’re what, a ten?”

“Twelve.”

“Same thing,” Seth said.

Her dad threw his head back and laughed as if Seth’s statement was the funniest thing he’d ever heard in his whole entire life. Seth didn’t join in the laughter though and he seemed like he was considering pummeling her dad right there in the kitchen. Natalie had no idea what she was supposed to do. She was afraid Seth and her dad were going to seriously get into some kind of wild fist fight right in front of her, yet she couldn’t move. How does someone react in that kind of situation? Natalie wasn’t sure. She didn’t know if she should grab her bags and run for the door, break up the argument, or team up with Seth and deck her dad. Maybe she should’ve decked both of them, Seth for using her and her dad for insulting her more than ever before.

“Now I know why Natalie has so many issues,” Seth said.

“What?” Natalie threw her plate in the sink. “What kind of issues?”

“I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just that, when we were together, it felt like you were using me or something, using me for compliments.”

“You were together?” Natalie’s dad interrupted. “What kind of ‘together?’”

“But it makes sense now,” Seth said, ignoring her dad’s question. “I get it. It’s because of your dad. It’s because your dad’s a jack ass.”

“Get out of my house!” Again, Natalie’s dad grabbed Seth and attempted to drag him towards the door, but Seth didn’t budge.

“I brought this for you.” Seth handed over her taco nametag. It was smiling. Still smiling. “When I found out you were quitting I grabbed it for you. I thought you’d want it.”

Natalie’s dad burst into hysterics. “A taco? Of course you’re giving her a taco. That taco’s the only thing that will ever love her. I tell you what. She should just marry that there taco. Here, I’ll give you a parting gift too.” Natalie’s dad grabbed the bottle of Mrs. Butter-Worth maple syrup off of the table and shoved it into her hands. “You’re like twins!”

Natalie had never been so insulted in her whole entire life, which was definitely saying something because she sure had undergone a ridiculous amount of ridicule. She threw both the taco and maple syrup at their feet and grabbed her bags. “I can’t take this anymore!” Natalie said, heading for the front door.

“Wait!” Seth chased after her. “Did I do something wrong?”

“You did a lot of things wrong.”

“But the taco, was that wrong?”

“No, it was great. It was wonderful.”

“Well, why don’t you want it? I’m trying to apologize here. I’m just trying to apologize.” He picked the taco pin up off of the ground and held it out to her. “Please, take it.” But Natalie didn’t take it. She didn’t need it anymore.

She’d relied on its reassurance for too long and she needed to learn to count on herself. It was silly to hang onto a smile that wasn’t real. If she didn’t learn to be happy on her own now, when would she?

“Just keep it,” she said. “You can keep it.”

“But the reason why I came was to let you know that—that I miss you. I was stupid and I was hoping that maybe this would make up for everything. I was hoping that maybe I’d be able to convince you to stay. If you don’t

take it that means that I have no chance. I want another chance, Natalie,” Seth said.

Out of the corner of her eye, Natalie spotted her dad. He was sitting at the table, starring at his hands. He looked small in the apartment, like it was an over-sized t-shirt, and he even looked a little lonely. But she couldn’t allow herself to feel sorry for him. He deserved it. But Seth, Seth really didn’t deserve a harsh goodbye. Even though she didn’t want to admit it, she really had used him. It wasn’t that he was a bad guy; he was just so young that nothing he said had ever really interested her. All she’d wanted from him was flattery. He told her she was beautiful and looked at her in a way that proved he meant it. That was something she’d never had and even though she didn’t truly like him, she didn’t want to give that up. And even though it was hard for her to do so, she realized that she had to let him free and work on herself. She needed more “me time,” as Jess would put it.

“Look, I’m not gonna give you another chance.”

Seth’s face fell. “Oh,” he said.

“But what I can do is thank you.”

“What?”

“I’m different now, you know? I’m gonna leave this place. I can do this. And you’re responsible for that.”

Seth looked confused, and she felt like kissing him on the forehead. In her eyes, he was that little boy again, the boy she’d taken to the playground to collect lost feathers with, the boy that’d stolen all of her blue crayons, and the boy who’d helped her feed bread crumbs to the swans at the Pittsburgh zoo. “I am?” he asked.

Natalie nodded. “If it weren’t for you, I would’ve never had the bravery to do this—to get out of here.”

“I told you—I already told you that you’re not going anywhere!” Natalie’s dad said, hurrying over to them.

“Where are you going anyway?” Seth asked.

“New York. I figured it’d be a good start.”

“Seems like a nice place.”

“You’ll be the biggest person there,” her dad said.

“I’m sure, I’m sure I will be. But you know what? I don’t give a shit.” She winked at Seth and headed out the door, slamming it behind her.

Non-Fiction Younger Years (Excerpt)

My mom says that I was never a real child. I didn’t appreciate it when adults talked to me in silly voices or when they pinched my cheeks, their eyes huge like apricots. They were making fools of themselves; I knew that. At times, I felt embarrassed for them. It just never occurred to me that I was younger than they were. I felt that I was their equal and I was set on doing things my own way.

I was born when I wanted to be born. The doctor who delivered me wore a Christian Dior suit because he hadn’t had time to change after a dinner party. I was an individual and I felt that I could take care of myself. I learned to dress myself by the time I was two years old. It didn’t matter if my clothes were backwards, mismatched, or inside out. All that mattered was that I dressed on my own. If my mom tried to intervene with my daily preparation, I would kick and punch her. I was stubborn and independent, which got me into trouble all throughout childhood.

****** Every Easter, my mom would make dresses for my sister, Rebecca, and me. She bought us straw hats and colorful baskets. I, personally, hated this tradition and I dreaded Easter every year because of it. The dress that I specifically remember had puffy sleeves and a jumper made out of Noah’s Ark fabric. I absolutely despised everything about it.

“But it’s so cute,” my mom said as she took my picture. But it was not cute. It was the worst thing I’d ever seen in my life. I threw my straw hat on the ground and crossed my arms over my chest. She had to drag me to church because I refused to go. I hated dresses, and one with baby elephants and big sleeves made wearing one all the more painful.

****** As soon as I was able to walk, I wanted to follow my sister, Rebecca, everywhere. That was the reason why I learned to walk in the first place. How else was I supposed to catch up? So one afternoon, she was playing in the neighbor’s backyard with her friend Vickery. When I heard them laughing and carrying on, I thought it would be a good idea to join them. I went the wrong way and then decided that instead of turning around and walking all the way around the house to the backyard, I would figure out a way to get there faster. What better way was there than climbing down a six foot wall? I mean, come on, common sense.

So when I was eighteen months old, I made my way slowly down the driveway wall. I carefully dug my fingers and toes into the spaces between the bricks. Everything was going as planned; I was impressed with this shortcut. It

truly was a great idea--until I slipped and went crashing into the driveway, breaking my head open. I was no SpiderMan, that’s for sure.

My mom rushed me to the hospital for fourteen stitches in my forehead. Even after my traumatic experience, I continued to be stubborn. I kicked and smacked the doctor when he tried to give me stitches. I didn’t want them, so I was going to make him pay. I flailed all over the place, preventing him from being able to hold me down, so he had to put me in a straightjacket. Yes, a straightjacket. And even after that he had to watch himself; one wrong move and I would bite him, hard.

****** I spent the summers playing with my best friend, Emily. We worked well together as a pair because she’d let me be the boss. Sometimes Emily and I would wander out of her backyard and explore the neighborhood. We liked to run up and down the alleyway behind her house and we liked to visit the neighbors. The neighbor I remember visiting the most was the Tic-Tac Man. A chain fence surrounded his yard, and he had a big blue porch. The porch floor was covered with a green carpet that looked exactly like grass. We would go to his house almost everyday looking for snacks. We would knock on his big white door and he would come out and tell us stories about his life. When he didn’t have any cookies or snacks to give us, he gave us Tic-Tacs. That’s how he got his name. What’s really sad is that the poor man lived all by himself. He looked forward to our visits so that he’d have someone to talk to, but all we cared about was the food.

One of my favorite childhood snacks was graham crackers dipped in tea. My babysitter used to make Emily and me tea everyday. She’d pour us a cup and we’d sip at our tea, sitting at the dinning room table. I loved tea, the way it warmed my hands, its steam sweating all over the place. I loved the way it smelled, like hot bath towels and honey. And I loved to fill it with as much sugar as possible. I’d pour scoop after scoop into my teacup. Everyone at the table would laugh at me, but they just didn’t understand how to make good tea, obviously. After mixing in the sugar, I’d grab a handful of graham crackers. I’d break them into little rectangles and dip them in the tea, waiting for them to get soggy. Then I’d let the soft part melt in my mouth like a square of chocolate. I’d have tea all year round, even in the summer. It didn’t matter if the sun was blazing, I’d still want my tea.

****** As a kid, I loved going to the Strip District. The Strip is a little section of Pittsburgh where people go to shop

and eat. There are vendors and people playing music on the streets. There are fresh fruit stands and cultural shops.

Sometimes my mom would take my sister and me there when she felt like going on wild grocery shopping trips. She’d take us on Saturday mornings, which is the best time to go to the Strip because that’s when all the vendors are out.

My mom would take us into cheese shops that smelled terrible and to Wholey’s Fish Market where we could watch fish swim in huge tanks. I loved everything about the strip. I loved the smells of coffee shops and even the peddlers on street corners. The Strip was the place to be.

It was in the Strip that I had a near death experience. I was this little kid, probably two or three, and my mom was holding my hand as we walked along with her friend Mary Legas and my older sister. It was a nice day, sunny with music streaming out of restaurants. My stomach was full because I’d just had a huge stack of pancakes at DeLuca’s, which was my favorite place to have breakfast because they put tons of chocolate chips in their pancakes.

Anyways, so we were walking along and someone was giving out free hard candy. I took a piece without my mom noticing. When she looked over at me I was choking. My face got all blue and I couldn’t breath. Thankfully, Mary was there. She threw me over her arm and started patting my back until I coughed up the candy. She pretty much saved my life. At least, that’s what my mom tells me because she really didn’t think I was going to make it.

Another experience I remember about the Strip was the time when my grandma came along for the shopping.

My grandma walked with me slowly down aisles of fruit, picking out what she wanted. She picked up strange fruits and explained them to me. I nodded and looked up at her, hugging my stuffed dog, Puppy. Puppy was a little orange Dalmatian that I carried around with me everywhere. The two of us were pretty close. So as I was helping my grandma put oranges into a plastic bag, my mom ran up and told her that we had to leave because there were orange cones around her car. My grandma continued picking out her fruit, as my mom yelled at her about how she was going to get towed. I didn’t really understand what was going on at the time. I thought my mom was saying that she had orange ice cream cones around her car and I didn’t know why she was yelling at my grandma. I didn’t think my grandma was doing anything wrong and I didn’t know why my mom cared about the ice cream cones.

When my mom finally dragged us out of the store, I saw the cones around her car and realized that they weren’t ice cream cones at all. They were plastic cones. I was quite disappointed because the plastic cones weren’t nearly as exciting as my favorite dessert. My mom talked to the men trying to take her car, and before I knew it we were driving away, me hugging Puppy as my mom lectured my grandma.

****** During the school year, I went to preschool at Elizabeth Seaton. The school was close to my babysitter Mary Arbuckle’s house, so she’d walk me there every morning. Emily would also walk with us. When we got to school, we’d put our coats and backpacks in yellow cubbyholes that lined the walls. The classroom was huge and there was always something to do. There were lots of coloring books and crayons. There were building blocks, a playhouse, and a jungle gym. Emily and I usually colored or played on the jungle gym. When we played on the jungle gym we would pretend to do construction, hammering plastic nails in-between the floorboards.

I remember that we weren’t allowed to bring toys from home. But one day, Emily broke the rules. She was late to school, and after hanging up her things, she ran over to me. She grabbed my hand and led me over to her backpack. Inside were plastic animals: a giraffe and a lion. I thought that it was so cool that she was able to sneak them into school. I was jealous, wishing that I too were brave enough to do something like that. My best friend was cooler than I was, and she was a year younger than me. I couldn’t believe it.

It was also during preschool that I developed a liking for sugar covered gummy worms. Emily and I would get a bag of worms every day after preschool and eat them on the walk home. My favorite gummies were the ones that were half red and half blue. I’d take my time, slowly licking the sugar off of each one until my fingers were sticky. For some reason, I never got anything else. Every single day, I’d get the same thing and eat them in the same way.

Then, one afternoon, Emily decided to mix things up a little. She bought tootsie rolls. When I saw her with them, slowly unrolling the wrappers and slipping them into her mouth, I was outraged. We had been doing things the same way everyday; I didn’t appreciate her abandoning our childhood traditions. And why on earth would she pick tootsie rolls? Tootsie rolls were just lame. They’re the candy you eat last on Halloween, after all the good candy is gone. I was disappointed in her decision-making. Emily had seriously lost her mind. I told her this, and made her promise never to do something so silly again.

******

Christmas used to be my favorite holiday. It was an obvious choice because it’s pretty much a combination of every holiday; there’s a feast, presents, decorations, and candy. I felt that every other holiday paled in comparison. It was my favorite holiday because when it came to gifts and treats, it was definitely the most generous. My

grandmother, of course, wanted to get me involved in the true spirit of Christmas. She was a very religious woman who sang bible songs and carted me off to Sunday school every chance she got.

Every year, to teach me about the true meaning of Christmas, my grandma would take me to a play at a church far off in the country. The play seemed to be mainly about Easter, which I never quite understood. I liked the play though, because the actors came off of the stage, holding animals and fruit trays. I was allowed to pet the fluffy bunnies they cradled in their arms, and grab handfuls of grapes. After the play, they would always ask if any of the children would like to take Jesus into their heart. If a child chose to do this, they got a pen and other little gifts. One Christmas, after the play, I decided that I would like to have the free presents. I figured that letting Jesus move in wasn’t that bad of an exchange, so I raised my hand and accepted Jesus into my heart.

After the show, my grandma was so proud that she took me out to an ice cream parlor to celebrate. I got a peanut butter milkshake that was bigger than my head and a bag full of gummy bears. I grinned as I sipped my shake, wishing I’d let Jesus stop by a little earlier. It really wasn’t a big deal; he was quiet and sat still. For years after that I imagined Jesus sitting Indian style in my heart, relaxing.

******

My first friend in Kindergarten at West Side Traditional Academy was Samantha O’Donnell. Sam was even more controlling than I was. She always got what she wanted and if you didn’t give it to her, she would punish you. I spent all of elementary school trying to be as good as she was, as cool as she was. Everyone loved Sam; she was adorable and charming in her own way. She and I became great friends; I was pretty much her sidekick. Together, we took control of our class. Everyone wanted to be Sam’s friend, but I was the chosen one. It made me feel privileged, and so I did everything she told me to do so that I could continue to be her friend.

In elementary school, I was always the best in my art class. I spent time shading with crayons and using bright paints to convey the world around me. I was good at it, which is a pretty good reason to love something. But I wasn’t the artist. My sister was the artist. She was better at it and that was made known. When we drew pictures, Rebecca always got more praise then I did. She had drawings scattered all over the basement. Art was all she thought about.

She was doing badly in class because she would zone out and draw pictures of ballerinas on her test papers. In the second grade, Rebecca won second place in a drawing contest. She got to go to brunch and they gave her this huge plaque. How could I compete with that?

In art class, Sam started to call me teacher’s pet. Everyone in class agreed with her, and they all made fun of me. I tried not to do as well in art class after that. Instead, I let Sam be the best and I watched as our teacher hung her paintings on the wall. It was the combination of my sister’s natural talent and my rude peers that pushed me away from art. I decided that I needed to find a new hobby. I needed to find something that I could be good at without being criticized.

I decided that I would take a science class. While my sister was taking art classes, my mom enrolled me in this creative science class. Instructors taught us about gravity by standing on tables and throwing tennis balls on the floor. We tried space ice cream and strawberries, as we watched movies about the galaxy. Visitors even came in with cages of birds and bats. After showing us the animals they brought in, the visitors put gummy worms on the table and taught us how to eat like birds. They explained that birds look around to make sure no one will steal their food, and then they quickly grab it and swallow. The whole class tried it, picking up the gummy worms between our teeth. Then we learned how to eat crackers like chipmunks. We had to hold the crackers in our hands and look around the room frantically as we nibbled at them. I loved the science class; there were animals and free food. Who wouldn’t love it?

But the program was shut down after that session and because school science classes were a drag, I soon lost interest.

It was also in kindergarten that I met Billy. Billy was a sweet little boy with glasses and a round face. In the bathroom one afternoon, Sam declared that she ‘liked’ Billy. I didn’t completely understand, but I grinned and told her that I thought he liked her too. The three of us became good friends and when my birthday rolled around he gave me a pink rose, its stem wrapped in tissue paper. He was the sweetest boy in our class. Pretty smooth too, if I dare say so myself.

One day, near the end of the year, our teacher told us that Billy wouldn’t be returning to class. His mom had died after undergoing a heart transplant. That afternoon, we stood around a tree the school had planted in her memory. It was a small, bald tree with stems sticking out in every direction. I thought about how terrible Billy must have felt. I couldn’t imagine losing my mom.

A few days later, I put on a red plaid dress and white tights. My mom drove me to the funeral; I wanted to say

goodbye to Billy. I couldn’t find him though, so my mom held me up so that I could write my name in the visitors book the way I had learned in class. This way, he would know I’d come; so he’d know that I cared about him. I never saw him again after that.

In the first grade, my teacher hung a huge poster of a tooth on the chalkboard. She told us that when we lost a tooth we should tell her and she would write our names on the poster. I couldn’t wait to loose my teeth so that my name could be up there with everyone else’s. I waited and waited for them to fall out, but it just wasn’t happening. I watched as name after name was written on the tooth in delicate cursive. I was growing impatient.

Finally, it happened. I had a loose tooth. I would wiggle it all through class, looking forward to the day when “Rachel Nadolny” would be scribbled onto the poster. But it was taking too long; my tooth just wouldn’t fall out. I decided to go to my mom and ask her if she could pull it out the way that she’d pulled my sister’s tooth out.

She pinched her eyebrows together. “Are you sure?”

I nodded. So she wrapped a piece of dental floss around my tooth and tied the other end of the string to the door. Then she slammed the door shut, ripping my tooth out of my mouth and sending it flying two rooms away.

The next day, I proudly approached my teacher. “I lost my tooth,” I told her, a gap visible where my bottom tooth had once resided. She then got the black marker out of her desk and wrote my name on the tooth poster with everyone else’s. That’s what I had been determined to achieve. It probably would’ve been easier to just lie, but I had lost my tooth honestly and fairly. My name belonged on that damn poster.

Sam got a pair of shiny red rain boots in the second grade. I admired them as we stood in a line waiting to go to gym class. I stared at my own simple black dress shoes, longing to have boots like Sam’s. Why did everything she had have to be better than mine? Why was she better than me in general? I couldn’t stand it.

She then smacked my shoulder, bringing me back to reality. I rubbed the place where she’d hit me, the skin burning. “You’ve got the Jordan touch,” she said.

I looked over at Jordan, laughing and pumping his arms back and forth. Sam hated him because she thought he was strange, and if she didn’t like someone, no one did. His hair was gray, I swear, and he wore it cut short except for a long rat-tail that ran down his back. When he walked his feet bowed in and he always had shiny pocket change in his penny loafers.

I stood there, staring at her boots and rubbing my shoulder. I knew it was mean to pass on the Jordan touch,

which was an imaginary disease you received if he touched you, but I didn’t want to face Sam if I didn’t. She would stop being my friend, and then where would I sit at lunch? I looked at Jordan and then back at Sam, deciding whether or not I should take the risk and stand up to her. I then turned to Martha and poked her, “You’ve got the Jordan touch,” I mumbled. Martha screamed and passed the disease up the line. Sam grinned, but I couldn’t look at her. I realized then that she had broken me, stolen the stubborn independence that I was born with.