Read Forget Me Not Online

Authors: Carolee Dean

Forget Me Not (4 page)

Nouns and verbs constructed in straight lines

made the world a saner, safer place.

You laughed at me but I didn’t complain.

You stepped in close and I could feel your heart.

I wrapped you in my arms and pressed my lips.

You opened up your mouth and let me in.

It seemed we stayed out there for hours and days.

I wove a bracelet of forget-me-nots.

Tied it on your wrist.

We kissed again.

It was the first time that I ever made

out. You said good-bye and walked away.

I should have called, but I was too afraid.

Whatever happens, Ally, please know this—

you’ll always be my first love. My first kiss.

PART THREE
A
   
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F
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Ally
SAY CHEESE

Just get your pencil moving,

Ms. Lane always says,

so I take out my pencil and write

the only thing that comes to my mind.

My first word was “cheese.”

My earliest memory is of my mother

taking my picture at the park.

“Smile and say cheese,” she told me,

as I sat in the swing,

wondering why it wasn’t moving.

“Smile and say cheese,” she told me, as I sat

in front of a sandcastle she had built, because

she didn’t want me to get my new sundress dirty.

I was a late bloomer.

I hadn’t said mama or dada or baba,

googoo or nana or gaga.

But she didn’t take me to a doctor.

Instead she took me to a talent scout

who was looking for a baby for an

organic carrot commercial.

“Smile and say cheese,” my mother said,

as the man adjusted the camera lens.

Then the bright lights flashed in my eyes,

something went
click
in my brain,

and I spoke my first word . . .

“Cheese.”

A CHRISTMAS CAROL

Mom took me

to try out

for
A Christmas Carol

in third grade.

That’s where

I met Bri and Elijah.

I got a part

in every school play

after that.

I never really felt alive

unless I was up onstage.

It’s like that old saying,

“If a tree falls in the forest,

and no one hears it,

does it make a sound?”

If I’m here

but nobody sees me,

am I really alive?

THE FAIREST

In fifth grade I got the part of

Snow White in the spring play,

but Dad convinced me

to let Bri have it because I’d already

played Sleeping Beauty in the fall.

“You don’t always have to be the star,” he said.

When my mother found out, she hit the roof.

“Never, never give up what is rightfully yours,”

she told me. “Don’t be afraid to shine.

Your true friends will be your biggest fans.

And remember this above all else . . .

Only one can be the fairest.”

Something inside of me

broke loose then.

I wasn’t afraid anymore

of being better than everyone else,

and I became unstoppable.

It was as if until that moment

I’d been trying to keep the

sun from rising.

Dad never understood.

He warned me, saying,

“Shooting stars sometimes crash and burn.”

Leave it to Dad to try to hold me down,

like he tried to do with my mother,

until she got away.

I INHERITED MY LOVE OF THE STAGE

from Mom.

She used to spend

nearly every night

at the community theater

rehearsing or performing

or taking acting classes.

My parents fought about

it all the time. Dad said

she should be home

taking care of her family.

Mom said we should move

to California or New York,

where she could get real acting jobs,

and that a man who sold

pharmaceutical supplies for a living

could do that anywhere.

For years she begged and pleaded,

and then one day,

right after I turned twelve,

she just gave up

and left.

I begged her to take me with her,

but my father wouldn’t let her.

She said she’d get a lawyer

and fight for custody,

but she didn’t have much money.

The acting jobs

were few and far between,

like her letters.

Until one day they just

stopped

coming.

I know my father is hiding them,

though he won’t admit it.

And for that I hate him.

THERE’S SOMETHING DARK

in the corner

of the hallway,

but every time

I try to look,

it disappears.

There’s something

cold in the corner

of the hallway,

but every time

I go to check it out,

it moves away.

There’s something talking to me

from the corner of the hallway.

I can’t see what it is,

but I lean in close to listen.

I used to hear voices

in the halls,

whispering things like

slut, liar, whore

I hear voices

on the H Hall, too,

even though there’s

nobody here but me.

They’re telling me this

is the only place where

Nobody can touch me.

Nobody can hurt me.

Nobody can reach me.

“You can stay here forever,” they whisper.

SOME KIDS SAY

Some kids say that, about ten years ago,

a senior tripping out on ecstasy

hung himself from the rafters on the H Hall.

There used to be rafters, but

some kids say that after the incident,

the school board put up ceiling tiles

so you couldn’t see where he did it.

That’s also when they closed the hall

off with a big steel door and started

using the classrooms for storage.

Some kids say that at night

they see a dim light moving

back and forth across the hall

when the building is supposed to be empty.

Some kids say that in the middle

of the hallway the air is ice-cold,

and if you happen to be alone,

you can hear voices whispering to you,

telling you to do terrible things.

They seem to come from inside

your head, and one kid put his skull

through the glass trying to get the voices to stop.

Some kids say that if the tardy bell rings,

the steel door locks, and you can’t get off the

hallway until the next class period, but by

that time you will have lost your mind,

and no matter where they take you from there,

you’ll always think you’re on the hallway.

Some kids say that all the stories are a bunch of crap

that the teachers made up because they want to keep

kids off the H Hall. It’s the shortest route between

the copy room on the second floor and the teachers’

lounge on the first floor.

Some kids say I’m a slut because I slept with Davis

when he was still going with Darla. They don’t know

what she’s like. They don’t know how long he tried to

break it off with her so he could be with me.

I’m glad I can’t hear

what some kids are saying.

AFTER THE TARDY

bell the courtyard clears out and

when it gets quiet

a black raven lands on the

railing outside my window.

Funny how I am

already thinking of the

hallway as my own.

The bird flaps his wings and caws.

The pigeons above cower.

I don’t remember

if ravens are predators.

Should have been paying

more attention in science

class but too late for that now.

I’m getting a big,

fat F. My father will freak.

But it was hard to

keep my mind on school work when

my phone was flashing hate texts.

Teens have their own set

of acronyms. BFF.

But not anymore.

LOL. Who’s laughing now?

WTF is more

like it. I check the

screen before I remember

that I’m in a no

service zone. That’s good. My cell

used to be my lifeline, but

now it feels like a

BSOD. A Blue Screen

of Death. When your whole

life has been wiped off the hard

drive and no one knows you’re gone.

MISSING DAVIS

I miss you, Davis.

I miss

the way

you would trace

your fingers across

my face and tell me

I was beautiful.

I miss

the way you looked

at me when we were together,

like I was the only person in the world.

I miss

how when I was with you,

you made me feel smart

and funny and important.

I miss

the girl I became

every time you entered the room.

I miss

the text messages

you would send me when I knew

you were with her, saying

how you couldn’t wait until Friday night.

I miss

the feeling of white heat filling my body

when I read what you wanted to do

to me the next time we were alone.

I even miss

almost getting caught and hurrying

to delete your messages before

my dad could read them.

But most of all I miss

how sometimes, when I least expected

it, you would send me a message that said

“I miss you, Ally.”

IT WAS THE WEEK MY MOTHER LEFT

That’s when I started noticing

Brianna’s older brother.

Up until then he’d just been

the annoying creep who

kicked us out of the game room

every time his friends came over.

The fall of our sixth-grade year,

Bri’s house became a jock hangout.

Davis was the only freshman

to make the varsity football team.

At fifteen, he was the first-string quarterback

for the Raven Valley Raptors.

There was an endless parade

of girls through the halls, licking

their lips and competing

with each other for a look.

One night

Brianna took her brother’s

cell phone while he was

passed out in the den.

We had a big laugh

as we looked through

the thirty pictures of

girls who’d sent photos

of themselves

in bras and thongs and less.

I laughed along,

but secretly I wondered

what it would take

for Davis to notice me.

FRESHMAN FALL

Davis barely knew that I existed

till I got to RVHS, his domain.

He’s a senior. He’ll be leaving soon

for college. Desperation made me bold.

Brianna was organizing shoes.

I told her I was going for a swim.

A hot September night, I slipped into

a two-piece barely covering the breasts

that popped up unexpectedly in June.

I think that’s what he must have noticed first.

Does that make him a pervert or does it

make me a perv because I was praying

that he would notice something? He was walking

through the backyard when he saw the Twins.

Mary-Kate and Ashley they were called

by all the boys. I didn’t have a clue

that after only two short weeks of school,

my body parts had nicknames. He sat down

on the lounge chair next to mine and looked

at both the Twins, then recognized my face.

Blushed crimson red, looked in my eyes, and said,

“Ally Cassell, when did you grow up?”

I should have been offended that it took

him all those years to say seven words to me.

But I was too busy relishing the sound

of my name on his lips and in his mouth.

IT’S IRONIC

but I think Davis noticed me

partly because of Darla.

She invited all the freshman Ravenettes

over to her

house for makeovers.

“We have an image to maintain,”

she and her friends told us

as they showed us how to wax

and pluck and blend.

My mother left before she had a chance

to teach me about things like that and

Brianna didn’t care about hair and makeup.

“You’ll be eating lunch with the team

from now on at the jock tables,”

Darla informed us.

She also told us she had three objectives for the year—

Get the lead in
My Fair Lady

Make captain of the dance team

And hang on to Davis Connor

long enough for him to take her to prom.

Everyone told her number three

would be the biggest challenge.

Davis never dated a girl

longer than two weeks.

But Darla said she was different.

She knew exactly

what a guy like Davis needed.

DAVIS

Every Friday

I would spend

the night with Brianna,

but as soon as she was asleep

I’d slip into Davis’s arms.

She thought the day

she caught me with him

was the only time,

but she was wrong.

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