Love and Leftovers (22 page)

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Authors: Sarah Tregay

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Love dub
|
love dub
Love dub
|
love dub

After the Last Bell

Linus stops

by my locker.

I notice that he doesn’t

kiss, touch, or hug me.

I hope he hasn’t

changed his mind.

“I’ve got to tell Emily,” Linus says.

“Before this hits the fan.”

And I realize he’s doing

what I should have done

the day J.D. kissed me:

tell the truth

before it grew stale.

Walking Daydreams

I am so happy giddy giddy

I smile at the blue blue sky

and practically skip.

I wish Katie was here

so I could kiss and tell,

gossip about love and fairy tales.

I tell the trees, the squirrels,

the fence posts, the mailbox,

“I’m in love. He loves me.”

“I can’t quite believe it!

We skipped school to fall in love.

I kissed Linus and he kissed me.”

“He’s telling Emily

he’d rather just be friends.

He’s in love. He loves me.”

And she’ll admit she liked him

and how he respected her, but

that wasn’t love and she understood.

Or maybe she’ll say she loved him

and wanted to hold him tight, but

forgot how to do it. Could he show her?

Maybe he’ll wrap his arms around her,

feel her curves under her sweater,

and ask, “Can I spend forever here?”

I skid to a stop.

What? Huh?

This is
my
daydream

my
Cinderella story

my
first time falling in love.

He can’t possibly go running off

with the prettiest girl in school

instead of me!

Can he?

Worries

I try to do my math homework

but end up writing proofs as if they were poetry.

I try to analyze
King Lear

but end up writing my paper in poems.

I try to work on my biology project

but I end up with poems in my PowerPoint presentation.

Danny asks me, “What’s wrong?”

and I tell him that Linus and I skipped school.

“And you’re worried about what your dad will think?”

“No. I’m worried

that Linus might not love me

after all—

that maybe I was just a quick fix.
A hug and a kiss to tide him over
until cardboard cutout Emily
gets wet in the rain
and decides to bend.”
Danny just looks at me
like I don’t make any sense
and wonders out loud
if “maybe this is stuff for your notebook?”

Notes from My Heart

I take my notebook

from my bag.

Smooth my fingers

over pages,

as if the bubbles

made by long-ago tears

were messages

written in Braille.

I start to read

what I had written,

but stop

midsentence

when the

doorbell

rings.

What Emily Said

Linus has his backpack on,

like he hasn’t been home

since before we got off the bus.

“I talked to Emily,

and she admitted

that she isn’t ready

for a relationship.”

He takes a deep breath.

“And she’d rather

we be friends like before,

except she’d like to

keep her babysitting job.”

I can’t wait another second.

I grab his backpack straps.

Pull him to me.

Kiss his mouth.

Kiss away any doubt.

My Dad Comes Home

I stop kissing Linus

and try to regain my balance,

my composure.

Dad puts down his briefcase,

takes off his coat.

Linus ignores him,

looks in my eyes,

and asks me

if I’d be his girlfriend,

again.

“Yes,” I say.

“Exclusively.”

(Just in time

for Valentine’s Day.)

Dad thinks we should celebrate

so he treats us to pizza

at Flying Pie on State Street,

where they play eighties rock

and pinball

instead of watching the Wildcats

play football.

And I like it better.

Even though Linus and Daddy

both beat me at pinball.

On the Way Home from Pizza

Dad turns down Linus’s street

and parks the Mustang in the Thomases’ driveway—

his not-so-subtle way of saying I have homework to do.

I flop the front seat forward and wiggle out.

Linus unfolds his long legs and stands up beside me.

He takes my hand, leans down, and kisses my cheek.

“See you at the bus stop.”

My heart
love-dub
s in my chest,

not wanting to say good night.

So I shut the car door,

hold up one finger in a promise

that I’ll be back in a minute.

Or five.

Linus’s hand still in mine,

we walk to his door,

where no one has bothered to turn on a light.

My heart
love-dub
s in my chest.

I think I say, “Kiss me.”

But Linus

may have

read my mind.

Kissing My Boyfriend

feels like riding

a Tilt-A-Whirl.

When I open my eyes,

it takes me a minute

to regain my balance.

“Linus . . .”

I take a deep breath

and say out loud

exactly what my heart

wants my lips to say:

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he says.

Snuggled in Bed

Long after

Dad’s heart-to-heart

about the importance

of school attendance,

I open

my precious

blue spiral notebook

to what

I thought

was a blank page

only to find it

written on!

Dear Marcie

Some things are inexcusable.

And I just did one of those things.

I read your notebook.

Go ahead and hate me.

But I had to do it.

You were the first girl I ever loved

and I had to know where I went wrong.

Yes, I dumped you because you cheated on me.

But after reading your diary,

I realize that I had misunderstood.

I thought you had sex with him.

And that hurt. A lot.

And, I know you thought I was gay

because I never touched your breasts.

Believe me, I wanted to.

But part of me wasn’t ready to take your clothes off

because I’ve seen
Maxim
,
Playboy
, and
Hustler

(that’s what happens when you have older brothers)

and I know that shit ain’t real.

I didn’t want

my smart, talented, adorable, emotional girlfriend

to turn into a three-dimensional magazine centerfold

when I peeled off her T-shirt.

I know you’re laughing.

But I swear that’s what happened to Roland

and Bug’s mom.

They were best friends until they started

sleeping together
instead of talking to each other.

And I swore I’d never let that happen to me.

I guess that’s what I wanted to tell you.

And if, someday, you get over hating me for reading this

and want to be friends again

I’d really like that.

Love, Linus

I Jump Out of Bed and Call Linus

 

 

“You wrote me a poem!”
“Not a very good one.”
He laughs.
 
“It’s sweet.”
“It’s embarrassing.”
 
“But now I know for
sure.”
“For sure what?”
 
“That I’m dating the
sweetest guy on earth.”
“Dorkiest, maybe.”
 
“Linus!” I complain.
In the background,
Roland agrees.
There’s a dull thud,
like someone got hit.
 
When I’m sure Linus
is back, I say,
“I didn’t know you thought
I had sex with J.D.”
“I didn’t know what to think.”
“I guess I didn’t tell you
that I
didn’t
sleep with him.”
“I think you did,
I just couldn’t hear you.”
 
“We weren’t exactly
talking.”
“Next time, I promise
to tell you stuff on the bus.
So the whole city’ll know.”
 
“Or in the cafeteria—”
“Gotta make sure
the whole school can hear.”
 
“Or in the auditorium—”
“Into the mike.
Loud and clear,
in case they missed it.”
 
“Or maybe I’ll just
write you a poem—
a totally embarrassing
mushy one.”
“And I’ll write you a
love song—
a sticky sweet one
about kissing you.”
 
“I’d like that.”
“Me too.”

On the Last Page of My Notebook

As my mixed-up,

gay-dad-crazy-mom world

returns to its previously scheduled orbit

and the tropical storm that was my life

dwindles to scattered showers,

I close my eyes

and listen to my heartbeat.

Love dub
|
love dub

It sounds like a two-tone metronome,

sending me a message in Morse code.

Love dub
|
love dub

I get it now.

My heart says it’s in love.

But it didn’t feel like

that jolt before falling asleep

or like springtime on the moon.

It felt like my heart

had something to say,

and all I had to do

was listen.

Acknowledgments

I’d like to thank my agent, Danielle Chiotti, for believing in my manuscript; my editor, Sarah Shumway, for making it shine; and Laurel Symonds, Kathryn Hinds, and Maggie Herold for polishing it. My gratitude goes out to my crit group at The Cabin, who read the first draft; to Athena Birckbichler, who worked behind the scenes; and to Laura Gray, who reassures me that I’m only as old as I act. Thanks to Sonya Sones for the inspiration and to the Violent Femmes and Son of Dork for the tunes. Many thanks to my parents for their support and encouragement, to my family for the camp and my New Hampshire roots, and to Jason for everything else.

About the Author

Sarah Tregay
is a graphic designer. When she isn’t jotting down poems at stoplights, Sarah can be found hanging out with her “little sister” from Big Brothers Big Sisters. She lives in Eagle, Idaho, with her husband, two Boston terriers, and an Appaloosa named Mr. Pots. You can find her online at www.sarahtregay.com.

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Credits

Jacket photo © 2012 by Allegra Villella

Copyright

Love and Leftovers
Copyright © 2012 by Sarah Tregay

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the nonexclusive, nontransferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse-engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins e-books.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Tregay, Sarah.

  Love and leftovers : a novel in verse / by Sarah Tregay. — 1st ed.

    p. cm.

  Summary: When her father starts dating a man, fifteen-year-old Marcie’s depressed mother takes her to New Hampshire but just as Marcie starts falling for a great guy her father brings her back to Idaho, where all of her relationships have become strained.

  ISBN 978-0-06-202358-2 (trade bdg.)

  EPub Edition © NOVEMBER 2011 ISBN: 9780062099358

  [1. Novels in verse. 2. Interpersonal relations—Fiction. 3. Family problems—Fiction. 4. Moving, Household—Fiction. 5. Bisexuality—Fiction. 6. New Hampshire—Fiction. 7. Idaho—Fiction.] I. Title.

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