The Art of Life (2 page)

               
“Come
on Izzy,” Jeremy says, giving a flawless, white teeth smile.
 
“I want to take you for a ride.”
 
He raises his eyebrows up and down.
 
That just makes me laugh, and it takes a lot
to make me laugh.
 
He turns back to my
tormentors.
 
“You can have the table
now.
 
Let’s go toots.”
 
Jeremy starts to pull me to the street.
 
I follow hesitantly.

               
When
we get to the motorcycle, he climbs on.
 
Turning to me, he smiles.
 
“Aren’t
you coming?”

               
Leaning
over, I whisper, “Are you going to kill me?”

               
He
starts laughing, and replies, “I wouldn’t leave so many witnesses.
 
Come on, just get on the bike.”
 
What am I doing?
 
I put on the bike helmet and swing the
backpack on.
 
Jeremy pats the seat behind
him.
 
I get on and just sit there.
 
He grabs my hands and puts them around
him.
 
Grinning, he asks, “Do you want to
wave to your friends?”

               
“Can
I just flick them off?” I retort.

               
“Sure,”
Jeremy says, turning and giving them the finger.
 
I grab his hand, shoving it back down.
  
I feel his body shake with laughter.
 
He starts the bike and revs the engine.
 

               
My
head turns and looks over at Sonya.
 
She
has her arms crossed, with her eyes glaring at me.
 
Oh boy, I am going to get it tomorrow.
 
At least this will make me smile for
tonight.
 
Suddenly, the bike jumps
forward and we take off.
 
I hold on
tight.
 
This is crazy.
 
I am going to die.
 
He is going to do something horrible to me,
hide my body in a trunk and push it into a lake.
 
Was this worth it?
 
Totally, the look on her face is payment
enough.

               
We
drive through the streets to downtown.
 
When we get to a red light, I lean forward, “You can drop me off now
anytime.”

               
Turning
his head around, Jeremy smiles, “We are going to go have a drink.”

               
“I
am only 18,” I shout, as we take off again.

               
He
shrugs.
 
We drive to a park and he pulls
into a spot.
 
I am quick to jump off, and
back up.
 
“Who are you?” I ask.

               
“My
name is Jeremy, Jeremy Stoll to be exact, and your name is Isabelle, as I heard
you yell at those people.”

               
 
I can feel my cheeks flush.
 
“Yeah, sorry about that.
 
That was Sonya.
 
She kind of treats me like….”

               
“Garbage,”
Jeremy finishes for me.

               
Nodding,
I sigh, “Yes.
 
Thanks for what you
did.
 
I have no idea why you did it, but
thanks.”
 
I take off the helmet and hand
it to him.
 
“Here.”

               
He
takes it and sets it in front of himself.
 
“What is their problem with you?”

               
“Did
you see them?”

               
“Sure,”
he replies.

               
Clicking
my tongue, I say, “Look at them and then look at me.
 
I am a very easy target.”

               
“Why
do you say that?”

               
Now,
I roll my eyes.
 
“I am a dork if you
haven’t seen that already.
 
I can’t
dress.
 
I look crazy.
 
I don’t have many friends, if any.
 
I am just a dork.”

               
Jeremy
frowns.
 
“I don’t see a dork.”

               
“That
is so kind of you,” I reply, slightly annoyed.
 
“Why did you do what you did anyway?”

               
“You
reminded me of someone, and I couldn’t stand the way she was talking to
you.
 
Why do you let her do that?”

               
I
cross my arms and look down.
 
“I don’t
know.
 
I just do.
 
I can’t be anything more than what I am.
 
So, I just take it.”

               
“I
take it you are still in high school?” Jeremy asks.

               
Nodding,
I reply, “Yup, why aren’t you?”

               
With
a devilish smirk, Jeremy replies, “Nope, got kicked out.”
 
My eyebrows raise, and he starts to laugh.
“No, I am kidding.
 
I am 21.
 
Graduated a few years ago,
actually from a city down in Texas.”

               
“What
brought you here?” I ask.

               
His
smile wavers a little.
 
“I needed a
change, so I took a dart, threw it at a map, and it landed here.”

               
“You
actually did that?” I gasp.

               
“Yup,”
he answers.
 
“Do you want a ride home?”

               
My
eyes just stare at him.
 
“Don’t you think
it would be weird, if I actually showed you where I lived?”

               
“I
am not going to kill you,” Jeremy laughs.
 
Leaning forward, he whispers, “Yet.”

               
The
corner of my mouth twitches.
 
“Fine, take
me home.
 
I will just make sure to lock
my doors at night.”

               
“You
should do that anyway,” he replies, handing me the helmet back.
 
“What’s your address?”

               
“1552
Harmony Avenue, if you take Highway J back through town, it’s right after the
railroad tracks.”

               
With
a sharp nod, Jeremy says, “Get on then.”

               
My
hands are shaking a little bit.
 
I pull
the helmet back on, and climb on the back.

               
“Hold
on tight,” he yells back at me, over the rumbling of the bike.
 
Wow, really?
 
Hold onto a hot looking guy, who is giving me a ride home on his
motorcycle, tough decision there.
 

               
We
make our way back through town.
 
My mom
is going to flip when I get home and she sees me on this bike.
 
When, we finally get to my house, I breathe a
sigh of relief.
 
She isn’t home.
 
Jeremy pulls up to the front and stops the
bike, turning it off.
 
I am suddenly very
nervous.
 
I hand him the helmet, and say,
“Thanks, thanks for everything.”

               
“No
problem,” he replies.
 
Jeremy looks at me
thoughtfully.
 
“Don’t let them get to you
so much.”

               
“Easier said than done.”

               
Jeremy
sighs.
 
“You don’t seem to be that bad of
a chick.
 
Give yourself more credit.”

               
“I
try, and fail every time.
 
I really
appreciate what you did.
 
I am going to
pay for it tomorrow, but at least it was some vindication today,” I say,
actually smiling a little.

               
“You
have pretty smile,” he replies, “You should do it more often.”

               
No
one has ever said that to me before.
 
I
blush, yet again.
 
“Well, thanks for the
ride home and thanks for being my knight to the rescue.”

               
“No
problem milady,” Jeremy retorts, bowing his head.
 
“You have a good night.
 
Wait, what is your full name?”

               
“Isabelle
Nimon
,” I reply.

               
Winking
at me, he says, “It was nice meeting you Isabelle
Nimon
.
 
Have a good night.”
 
With that, he starts his bike and takes off.

               
I
stand there for a while, staring down the street.
 
Did that all just really happen?
 
I mean, stuff like that doesn’t really happen
right?
 
In a daze, I walk into my
house.
 
I put on dinner, and sit down at
the table.
 
I grab out my sketch book,
and start to sketch Jeremy; his big brown eyes, with long lashes; his great
smile; and perfect hair.
 
Huh, well at
least I will have this as a memory that this all may have been real.

               
Suddenly,
the front door slams.
 
Oh great, here we
go.
 
My mom comes walking into the room
and throws her purse on the table next to me.
 
“Rough day?”
I ask.

               
“You
have no idea,” my mom replies.
 
Yeah
right, I bet you had a real rough day, and look she is going straight to the
whiskey.
 
Oh goody, she is just wonderful
under the influence of that stuff.
 
“What
is for dinner?”

               
“Ravioli,”
I sigh.
 
“It’s all we have to make.”

               
Turning
around she glares at me.
 
“Are you saying
I am a bad mother?
 
That I don’t keep
food in the house and you are starving?”

               
“Did
those words come out of my mouth?” I snap.
 
“No, we just need to go grocery shopping.”

               
 
My mom turns around and starts rooting through
her purse.
 
She pulls out a whole bunch
of cash and throws it on the table.
 
“There, go grocery shopping.
 
I
can’t wait until your 21,
then
you can go buy mommy
some liquid beverages, too.”

               
“Oh
yeah,” I grumble to myself.

               
“What?”
My mom growls.

               
Taking
a deep breath, I say, “Nothing.”
 
She
turns and storms out of the room.
 
When
dinner is ready, I take mine and eat it upstairs.
 
My room has a lock on it.
 
Thank god.
 

               
By
the time I actually want to venture downstairs I find my mom passed out on the
couch.
 
Sighing, I take her shoes off and
swing her legs up, as I always do.
 
Taking the little blanket, I cover her up.
 
This is ridiculous.
 
I should have been taken away and put into
foster care a long time ago, but I think that would be a lot worse than
this.
 
Once I graduate from high school,
I am getting a real job, and getting out of here.
 
College is out of the question for now.
 
I plan to go, but moving out takes priority.
 
I want to see how well she does, when she is
alone and can’t use me to cook and clean and do the laundry.

               
At
ten, I slam down on my bed.
 
The events
of today keep running through my head.
 
It was awesome, but tomorrow will over shadow it all.
 
It’s going to be hell.
 
Maybe I should just skip school.
 
That won’t solve anything
though,
they will just make more fun of me the next day.
 
Great, I love my life.