Sean Griswold's Head (18 page)

TWENTY-THREE

PFE

Today again

Jac told him. She had to have. That's how he knows.

He knows.

PFE

Still now

She hates me. He hates me. She told him and now he knows about the PFEs and now I have nothing but a stupid notebook to talk to. I don't even have a counselor to read the notebook and tell me everything will be okay or that it won't be okay or that life really does suck or that maybe things will get better. I don't even want it to get better because that will give me hope, and hope … well, hope sucks too.

I sound suicidal. I tear out the entry. I don't know anything for sure. Just that Sean wasn't at my locker this morning. I figured he was sick, but then I saw him in the hallway and he completely ignored me. Actually, he gave me a moody look, then ignored me. So he has to know.

It was fun while it lasted, right? Too bad he's going to hate me now. Really hate me. Maybe he'll graffiti things about me in the Hall of Terror with Grady. Maybe Jac will move in. Maybe I will really, truly have that mental breakdown I've been putting off for so long.

I freeze when I see him in bio, every muscle tensing. I'm compelled to finally slide into my seat once the bell rings, but I sit far back in my chair. If he had eyes on the back of his head, they'd be shooting me death stares.

The same sub from the previous day writes instructions on the board. Read Chapter 14 and answer study questions. I'm relieved that we have actual work today, something to keep my mind from wandering. But Sean never turns around to say hi, never even acknowledges I'm in the room. Five minutes before the bell rings, I figure I might as well face it.

“Hey,” I whisper.

“Yeah?” he asks. But it isn't a question. It's a statement. A statement that is clearly stating to leave him alone.

“Um, I missed you at my locker this morning.”

Sean shrugs. “Just busy. I have to finish this assignment.”

Goose bumps form on my arm from his ice. When the bell rings, he gives me a little nod and leaves. Doesn't wait for me.

I should respect his space and let him talk to me when he's ready. I should. But the prospect of not talking to Sean, of losing him for even a day, is too much. I wait for him after school near the Hall of Terror. When I see him, I grab his shoulder and he stops. I don't look at him, just at my hand on his shoulder. If I'd have gone a little farther down, I could have touched his bicep. “I didn't get to see you much today.”

“I know.” Sean shifts his backpack to his other shoulder. “I needed some space.”

“From me?”

“It's just … tell me about this notebook thing, Payton. Please.”

Whoa. And there it is.

“I don't know what you're—”

“Don't do that. It's not fair. I've been totally honest with you. Now it's your turn.”

“I have been honest with you.” I drop my hand from his shoulder, my fingers warm where we touched. “I told you about the counseling sessions.”

“But you didn't tell me I was a part of that somehow. That's why Ms. Callahan acted weird when she saw me, right? Am I some science experiment to you?”

“No! It's not a science experiment.”

A kid bumps into me as he rushes past, hurtling me into Sean. He steadies me, but doesn't stay close. Instead, he takes a step back and folds his arms. He's doesn't look mad, exactly. Just firm. And maybe a little hurt. Which kills me.

“It's a Focus Exercise,” I say.

“And that's supposed to make sense to me?”

“Ms. Callahan was trying to help me figure out things with my dad by having me focus on something else first. So I chose you. Well … I chose your head.”

“You chose my HEAD?”

I shrink. “Uh-huh.”

“So … you kept a whole journal about my head?”

“Yes. Well, other stuff too. But it's all nice things. You have a great head.” I pause and chew my lip. “I know. I know. It's awful. I should have told you, but it's not exactly something you can slide into conversation. Besides, it gave me a chance to finally get to know you. You, and uh … your head.”

“But I really want to make it clear here. You. Wrote. About. My. Head.”

“Yes.” I close my eyes and brace myself for the inevitable attack.

The onslaught of words.

The anger. The hurt. The grief.

After a few seconds of nothing, my curiosity and thirst for drama motivates me to peek out of one eye. Shockingly, Sean is grinning.

“That's the funniest thing I've ever heard! Can I read it? Where is it?”

“It's in my—wait—but I just … aren't you mad?”

“Sure, I
was
upset. But I thought you were using me. Were you?”

I pause. “A little, actually. At first. I was using you for therapeutic research, which is a noble thing to be used for, right?”

“A true honor.”

“But it's different now. It's bigger than that.”

“Bigger than my head? Is that possible?”

“I mean it. I can't explain how, but keeping this journal, it's given me something else to think about. Besides what's going on at home. And it helped me get to know you better. That's been the best part.”

He laughs. “Here I'm thinking you're calling me a loser and running to your counselor for a laugh. But a—what did you call it?”

“A Focus Exercise. Well, a Focus Object.”

“Oh wow, that's just brilliant.”

“How did you know?” I was so careful around him. Someone had to have told him. Not Ms. Callahan—that'd break some sort of confidentiality. Grady or Jac. Jac. I still think it's Jac. She had more to gain, plus there was her iciness outside of bio. That quick run-in was probably what motivated her to tell Sean.

“Doesn't matter,” he says. “What we really need to be thinking about is how I'm going to forgive you.”

“Forgive me?”

“Where's this journal?”

“Sean, I would, but it's personal.”

“It's my head.”

“It is, but—I can't.”

“Just one page. Come on.”

I grudgingly take the notebook out of my backpack. What just happened? I'd worried forever he'd be so upset about it and here he is laughing at himself. I read him the first entry, the outline about his head, and he snorts so loudly at the toilet bowl line that the last few remaining students look over at us.

“What are you doing now?” Sean asks, placing his hand on my back and leading me out of the hallway. How is it every time he touches me I become so aware of that body part? It's just my back. What am I going to do when … if we ever kiss?

I lick my lips. Ten minutes ago I thought he would never talk to me again, and now that possibility is back out there. Seriously, he is so perfect. “Grounding doesn't end until tomorrow, but I bet my mom will let me off if I say we are doing homework. Why?”

“That's good. Go check in. Bring that notebook. First we'll burn it, then celebrate by watching the TBS
Seinfeld
marathon in my basement.”

“Burn it? I don't want to burn it.”

“Well, either way I'm going to buy you a new one for your next Focus Exercise.”

“Which is?”

“We're going to work our way down. Next up—my neck.”

I change three times for our after-school hangout/book burning/date. I finally settle on my favorite pair of jeans with my red
SERENITY NOW
shirt. This is it. I know it. With the PFEs out in the open, there's nothing between us anymore. I can almost taste his peppermint sweetness.

My top lip sweats thinking about it. I wish I knew what to expect. Where should I sit on his couch and what direction do I move my head and do we wait for a commercial break or does he really just want to watch
Seinfeld
?

I'm about to bike over to Sean's to have all these questions and more answered when he calls me. “Hey.”

“Hey, I'm on my way over.”

“Can we rain check it?” Sean asks.

My stomach drops. “Why?”

“I'm sorry. I've got to go back to the doctor.”

“Back?”

“Yeah, I went last week because they wanted to run some tests on my headaches.” He pauses. “They think they might know what's up, but they want to send me to someone else, this specialist, just to be sure. No big deal.”

No Big Deal. I know very well what No Big Deal can become. “Are you going to be all right?”

“What? Oh, yeah.” He voice is distant. “So we'll watch Jerry tomorrow, 'kay? I can't tell you how excited I am to hang out with you.”

“Yeah, sure,” I say.

“Great. Can't wait. Serenity now, right?”

“Bye, Sean.”

PFE

March 14 5:23
PM

Talk about a counterproductive project. I'm supposed to be focusing on Sean to get over my dad's illness, only to discover Sean is sick too. His doctor is sending him to a specialist (ominous, right?) because he gets headaches. So, I looked up causes of chronic headaches and this is an annotated list of what I found …

REASONS FOR HEADACHES

— Brain Tumor

— Neurological Disorders

— Migraines (can be caused by stress, which can be induced by a high
-
maintenance relationship, i.e., me). These also can be a symptom of much greater conditions.

— Other reasons that disprove my theory so I'm not listing them here.

Isn't it bizarre that I'm focusing on his HEAD and he gets HEADACHES? Is this some kind of twisted joke?

This is why I never wanted to get a dog as a kid. Dogs die. And I'm not calling Sean a dog or saying he's going to die, but this really has just made me realize something.

Here's the thing:

By liking Sean, I'm just setting myself up for a loss. Maybe it'll happen from a rare brain tumor. More than likely it'll be in a few months when we decide we're over each other. Or even more likely, he's over me. Whenever it happens, however it happens, it's going to hurt. I've seen how it works with my dad. Why am I opening myself up for it to happen again?