Authors: Ellen Hopkins
Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Social Issues, #Drugs; Alcohol; Substance Abuse, #Self-Esteem & Self-Reliance, #Dating & Sex
inside my head but me.
But now I have a roommate
in there, and I really
don’t
like the guy. He talks way
too much. And the words
that keep coming out
of my mouth don’t
belong to me.
Growing Things
Are trying very hard to make
a spring appearance. It
is
spring
now, though sometimes it’s hard
to tell in northern Nevada. Still
a lot of snow on the mountain.
If I were playing pro ball, I’d
be off in Arizona or Southern
California or someplace really
warm, working toward new
goals. New records. New.
As it is, I’m here, where it’s still
relatively cool, playing regular
season games, working toward
the Nevada state championship
at the end of the month. May.
Championships. Prom. Senior
week. And then, graduation.
Not so excited about any of it
anymore. My baseball record
doesn’t really matter, unless you
count mattering to my ego. Prom?
Kendra turned me down, so I’m
taking Aubree. Don’t have a clue
why I’m going at all. It will only
remind me that I should be there
with Cara. My neck prickles.
If I had hackles, they’d be
rising. I’ve got to stop thinking
about her, or risk blowing up
again. Risk doing something
stupid. Something mean.
Something the bitch damn
well deserved. Talk about
revenge, baby. Brilliant move.
She never saw it coming.
You leave me alone, fucker.
Chad says you’re not here,
that you’re all in my head.
But he’s never heard you
blabbing at me. Go away.
That Guy
The one now living behind
my eyes, keeps trying to tell
me what to do, and it’s getting
really annoying. I did what he
said—posted those pics of
Cara and her girlfriend. He said
they’d go viral, and boy, did
they! People clear across
the country, and probably
around the world, have had
the chance to gawk at Cara’s
pussy. I see her at school,
and I’m pretty sure she
knows. If looks could kill,
I’d be skinned and left for
the bone pickers. But she
hasn’t said a word. Of course,
what is there, really, to say?
She can’t even prove that you’re
the one who posted them.
I Hope The Guy Behind My Eyes
Doesn’t talk all the way through
prom tonight. It’s late this year,
rescheduled from an early April
weekend with too much snow
coming down. Duvall and I hired
a limo (with a lot of help from
his parents and Uncle Jeff).
Might as well do it right.
Aubree is wearing purple,
so I got a lavender tux. Hope
it doesn’t make me look gay.
Gay. Hmm. Wonder if that
bitch is coming with Blue Hair.
Of course she’s coming with
Blue Hair. Just not to prom.
Shut up, asshole! Oh my
God! Does she come? And
just when did she know
she wanted to come with
girls? And was it my fault?
Think I’d Better Lift
A little before it’s time to “shit,
shower, and shave,” as my dad
used to say. Damn, I wish he
was here. Remembering him
opens a big sinkhole in me.
Why does everyone important
have to desert me? I’m almost
to the basement door when
the doorbell rings. I look out
the peephole. It’s a uniform.
“Aunt Mo,” I yell. “You’d better
come here. It’s a cop.” I don’t
wait for her to open the door.
“Can I help you?” Aunt Mo’s
footsteps approach quickly,
and I’m glad she’s here when
the big deputy says,
I’m looking
for Sean O’Connell. Is that you?
My head sort of bobs, and he
goes on.
I need to ask you some
questions. Do you want to
let me in?
He looks at Aunt
Mo, who pulls the door the rest
of the way open, allowing
him to step through. Damn,
the man is tall. He makes me
feel like a dwarf. “Uh, did I,
like,
do
something? Jaywalk?
Run a red light? What?” Does
he know about the steroids?
Do you mind if I ask the
questions? Do you know
a girl named Cara Sykes?
“Uh, yeah. We used to go out.”
But now she’s a lesbian and …
Oh, shit. This can’t be about that.
And do you know anything
about posting pornographic
photos of her on the Internet?
Before I Can Answer
Aunt Mo puts the brakes on.
Excuse me, but is Sean in some
sort of trouble? Sean, do you
have any idea what Deputy …
uh … Rossiter is talking about?
The guy obviously knows
something. Lying would
be stupid. I’ll try avoidance.
“I did see some pictures of
her. They were pretty bad.”
Rumor has it that you took
them. Which would mean
criminal trespass. And Ms.
Sykes is alleging stalking.
Does that sound accurate?
Guy Behind My Eyes:
Deny!
“Well, no, I … not exactly.”
GBME:
That is not denial.
“I wouldn’t call it stalking.”
GBME:
I think we’re in trouble.
Being Eighteen
Has a lot of advantages.
You can vote. You can
go where you want. Do
what you want without
a parent or guardian’s approval.
One major disadvantage:
If you’re arrested, you go
straight to jail. Do not stop
at juvenile hall. Do not take
a parent or guardian with you.
The good deputy reminded
me that I have the right to
an attorney and to keep
my big mouth shut. GBME
agreed. So did Aunt Mo.
I’ll call Jeff and we’ll get
you an attorney. Don’t worry.
We’ll have you out of there
before you know it.
She didn’t