My eyes twitched as the bathroom filled with light and then went black. The interruption distracted me from my thoughts, but his words never left me. I never had the things in life Nathan did, but somehow he managed to hate me for it. I stood to exit, but the door wouldn't open. It was locked.
I tried one more time. Nothing.
No, no, no. Not again
.
Not again.
***
I started with a few knocks, trying to get the attention of any students who walked by. Nothing. The past sat gurgling in my throat as I yelled, "Hello, hello!" and then pounded heavier between each word. It wouldn't take long. It didn't take long.
Three,
Two,
One.
And then I lost it.
My voice screamed through the walls, up the stairs and spread out across campus. I began punching the door until the flesh on my knuckles became wet. My shirt soaked with anxiety.
"Help! Help! Help!" I threw at the door. Each pound, each scrap against the wood broke me. It undid everything I had just accomplished. I would never be healed. I could never be healed.
"Help! Help! Help!" I repeated in a trance. My knees took over for my hands as the blood became too slick. Pound. Pound. Pound. Help. Help. Help.
I couldn't be locked in here. I had to get out.
Pound. Pound. Pound. "Help! Help!"
"Hello? Are you okay?" A worried voice spoke on the opposite side of my freedom. The door jiggled from the outside. Whoever it was, they better have the key.
"Help! Help!" I screamed again as I kicked in the door one last time. My knee didn't stop though. It swung forward and took the rest of my body with it as I was thrown out and onto the black asphalt.
I could breathe. I could relax.
You're going to be okay. You're going to be okay. He's not here. He didn't do it.
Black pebbled flooring ground into the sides of my cheek as dozens of feet surrounded my prone form. I moved to get up, but flinched at the contact of soft hands on my arm. Even with the pain, I scuttled away like a frightened mouse. Refusing help was easy. I saw Izzy out of the corner of my eye. He stood square and hard, his head cocked to the right with his hand on his cell. His mouth opened, but he said nothing.
I moved with caution, trying to bring less attention to myself. This desire to blend in, however, was pointless. The blood dripping from my hands, my jeans gaping wide at the knees—it was confirmed, I was a freak.
And then he appeared. The source of all my problems.
"Jesus, Javi. Who the hell kicked your ass this time?" Nathan said with his left hand in his pocket and his right flung over the arm of some blonde. Casual confidence oozed from his stance and poured out into the crowd. His crowd.
I wasn't witty. I didn't have a quick rebuttal or some brilliant jab to lower his esteem and remove the gawking eyes from my situation. So I did the one thing I told myself I would never do.
I ran.
Chapter 4
Kindergarten - The Past
(Javier)
It was my first day. I was nervous, but excited. My mama worked late so Lita from next door was walking me to school. I don't think her real name was Lita. I think it was Carmen, but everyone called her Lita. So I did too. Lita watched me when my mama was working or when she was sleeping, which was a lot. I didn't mind because Lita was nice, but today I wished my mama was here. I'd never been to school before. It would've been nice to have her. Just a hug before I left. A hand squeeze. I don't know. But Lita was nice, so it was okay.
We entered the classroom and boy it was big. There were a ton of toys around and games and everyone had their own chair and desk. It was cool. Lita took me to the teacher and then handed me my bag.
"This is your teacher, mijo. You'll be with her all day until your mother comes to pick you up. Okay?"
I nodded and gave Lita a hug. She patted me on the head, said, "Have fun," and then left.
A very tall lady with glasses bent down to talk to me. "You must be Javier. I'm Mrs. Milton."
My mouth pulled up in an awkward smile. I knew it was awkward because it was the same smile I used whenever I met someone new. Mama told me so. I looked around, unsure of what to do next, until Mrs. Milton grabbed my bag and placed a hand on my back.
"This is your seat for the year. Your desk mate will be Nathan," she said, sitting my bag on top and pulling out my chair.
I took a seat and sat on my hands. There were name tags on every desk with stickers and colors decorating them. My feet tapped on the floor as I listened to the other kids talk. Some were playing, some were coloring, most seemed to know each other.
Everyone seemed to have someone. My desk mate hadn't arrived yet. I repeated his name over and over again. The bell rang just as he arrived.
"Nathan, come in and sit down quick. We're going to start."
He ran straight toward his seat and sat down. He threw his bag and jacket on the floor and then looked up waiting for Mrs. Milton to begin.
I looked at him out of the corner of my eye. He seemed nice. I hoped we'd be friends.
Just as Mrs. Milton began I felt a tugging on my left sleeve.
"Jav-ee-er. I'm Nathan," he whispered, pronouncing the j in my name.
"It's Ha-vee-air, the j is pronounced like an h," I replied.
"Why?" he asked.
"I don't know," I replied.
Nathan looked confused.
"You can just call me Ha-vee, if that's easier," I said.
"Ha-vee. Okay. Do you want some sour gummy worms? I stole them from the pantry before I left."
Nathan opened up his hand and inside sat several colorful worms. "They're not real, are they?" I asked.
"No, silly. They're candy! You've never had a gummy worm before?" I shook my head no in response. "Well, try one. You'll like it."
He placed one in my hand and then pushed it toward me. "Eat," he said and gestured to place it in my mouth. So I did.
At first it was very sour and then it was sweet and then back to sour.
"It's good, right?" he asked.
"Mmmhmm," I replied, nodding my head in agreement.
Nathan shoved the remainder of his stash inside his desk and then turned his attention to Mrs. Milton. I did the same.
"Okay, class. Let's take out our crayons and begin with coloring our 'Welcome to Kindergarten' activity sheet," said Mrs. Milton as she passed around a stack of papers with images printed on them.
I watched the rest of the class as they pulled out boxes of crayons from their desks and backpacks. I placed my hand in my desk and felt around. It was empty.
"Nathan, where do we get the crayons?" I asked.
"You're supposed to bring your own. Did your mom forget?"
I looked in my bag. All I had was my jacket and my lunch. "Yeah, I guess so," I replied.
"That's okay, you can use mine." Nathan poured out several crayons onto my desk and started coloring. Every twenty minutes or so he would hand me another gummy worm. He had brought a lot to school. The more I ate, the more I liked them.
We did a lot of other activities that day. I didn't have any of the supplies, but Nathan let me borrow everything. He sat with me on the rug during lunch and gave me his extra Yoo-Hoo. I'd never had Yoo-Hoo. It tasted how I imagined chocolate milk would taste. I'd never had that either.
During the last hour of class, a kid who sat across from us came over.
"Hey Nate, can I have a gummy worm?"
Nathan looked up at him and then back at me. "I don't have any, Mikey," he replied.
"Liar. I saw you give some to him," said Mikey, pointing at me.
Nathan shrugged and went back to tracing the alphabet.
"I'm sorry I ate them all," I replied.
Nathan laughed. "I gave them to you. Mikey's a ding dong anyway. He's always wanting something from me," he said.
"Okay," I replied and we both went back to our tracing.
Parents began to peek inside the door, and some kids started putting their things away. I hoped my mom was here.
"Thank you so much for a wonderful first day, class," said Mrs. Milton. The bell cut her off as students began to squirm in their seats. "See you all tomorrow!" She smiled and dismissed us to our parents.
I handed Nathan his pencil and the remaining crayons. My mom walked inside just as I finished gathering my paper. My cheeks lifted, but I refrained from jumping up and screaming—I hadn't seen anyone else do it.
Nathan and I both stood and walked toward our parents. He put out his hand in front of me and said, "Last one."
I looked down and picked up a yellow and green sour gummy. He had saved it.
"Thank you, Nate," I replied.
Nathan put his arm around me and pulled me close. "Call me Nathan. Everyone else calls me Nate."
I saw Mikey looking at me from the corner of the room. His nose was scrunched up like he had just walked into a cloud of fart.
"Thanks, Nathan."
"I'll see you tomorrow, Javi," he replied and then went out the door with his mother next to him.
"Did you have a good first day?" asked my mama as she kneeled down to my side.
I smiled. It was big. And it was happy, but it wasn't awkward.
"The best, Mama. The best day ever."
Chapter 5
Telephone Wires
(Javier)
My bare feet walked me home with hesitation. The closer I got, the sooner night would fall and tomorrow would come.
Tomorrow.
The ground chilled my toes and held as a constant reminder—I would need new shoes.
Again.
The fourth pair in eight months. Although my mother understood my habits and tactics, she wouldn't be happy at the wasted expense. It was better than the alternative though. I think.
A green bench with peeling paint held my weight as I sat and stared at the cars passing by. We lived on a busy street, in a decent area with mixed wealth. She would be home now, getting ready for her second job, and I didn't want to explain my day. It would be obvious I had an altercation the moment I stepped through the front door.
The cuts, bleeding and bruises wouldn't alarm her. That was more of an accepted constant. It also pointed in the opposite direction—life, energy and exertion. No shoes meant a black looming cloud of fear for her and she hated it.
Hated. It.
I sat for a while longer, allowing myself to come to terms with my outburst. Two hundred and four more days and I could put it all behind me. Everything about high school—Nathan, the incident, losing my shoes, my nightmares. Starting new, moving away, even being away from my mom, it would all be good. Necessary. Because this place, this place was still killing me. I didn't even realize a piece of me was missing until it was gone. That's how slowly I was being murdered.
I needed out. And soon.
The stairs rumbled as I made my way up to the second floor of the La Vista Park apartment rentals. Home sweet home. Light came from just about every unit around us except Gio's. It was dinnertime, so families were gathering, meals were being made, and days were being discussed.
I knocked on the door. Even the porch light was off.
"Gio, are you there?" I asked.
Feet pattered toward me as the handle yanked back and the apartment opened. He looked straight down. It was the first thing he noticed. His head tilted to the side and his eyebrows pinched at the center.
I ignored his response. "My mom is leaving for work in ten or twenty, okay?"
Gio's eyes wouldn't relax. His concern was etched deep into his skin, he knew more than I ever gave him credit for.
"Okay?" I repeated.
A small smile appeared, his chin fell and then he closed the door. I could hear his feet beat against the floor for less than two seconds. He would sit on his couch in the dark and count the minutes until my mom left. Our routine was becoming predictable.
I turned toward my door, but my hand was yanked back. Gio stood there with a pair of black slippers. I flipped them upside down and saw the number ten and a half. My exact size.
"How did you—" and before I could finish, he was gone and back inside his empty apartment. I put the slippers on and wiggled my toes. With the exception of white shoelaces, they blended in very well to my normal outfit. Interesting. Maybe she wouldn't notice.
I looked back at his apartment door and saw the number twenty-seven hanging at a crooked angle. Walking up to it, I traced the number with my finger and straightened it. Then I turned and left to greet my mother, a smile I didn't create pulling at the edges of my cheeks.
The night went by. My nightmares came and went and when I woke up, the sounds of violins and pianos greeted me. Gio's bed was already put away and his sheets and pillows gone as if he never came. Gianna must've come home. Sometimes I wondered what would happen if she didn't. Would he be better off? Would he miss her? Would she miss him?