The Ocean (7 page)

“That’s real y cool,” Bryan said.

“Yeah, it was a fun night.”

“OK, guys, today we’re going to talk about basic techniques when giving speeches and how to address the audience,” Mr. Franklin began, as he entered the room with a stack of books. I assumed they were for dramatic effect. Everyone took their seats, and Gia smiled nervously at me before she turned around. I wondered what that was about.

I leaned forward to take notes, but couldn’t resist staring at the back of her head. She leaned forward and sat back nervously about halfway through the class. Final y, she passed me a note, and I realized she’d been trying to get my attention with her movement.

I don’t like sitting in front of you.

Why not? I passed the note back to her.

Because I can’t see what you’re doing. You’re making me nervous.

Don’t worry I’m just staring at the back of your head.

Exactly. Stop!

I chuckled and heard her snicker when she heard me laugh.

Can’t help it. What do you do to your hair to make it such a “masterpiece”?

Lame.

I try.

Well you should try harder.

OK, redo: don’t worry, I’m just waiting for this class to be over so I can read your note about five times and write you a response that will blow your mind.

I heard a slight gasp escape when she read it.

Better.

Can I read your note now?

No.

Please?

No.

You’re so demanding.

You might understand when you read it.

Fine, and honestly, thanks.

For what?

For writing me a note and distracting me from the back of your head.

Har, har, har. You’re welcome.

“Bryan, would you like to demonstrate this technique?” I looked up suddenly. I’d missed the lecture. Bryan went forward. Mr. Franklin handed him a paper. He stepped to the podium and read the statement.

“Very good. Now what could he have done to improve the speech? I wil only accept positive constructive criticism. If you are hurtful, or negative, then you wil go next, and only negative criticism wil be given from the class.” He raised his eyebrows to the class. The class cheerful y encouraged him to speak up, and to use his hands more. The bel rang.

“Tomorrow I want to start talking about our first real speech assignment and—” We were out of the class. I was walking so close to her. Again, I just had to reach over a little bit and touch her hand. I could just hold a finger. Our pinkies could touch.

“Gia?” Not again, I thought. We’d have to find another way to her next class. Gia turned to see Jil ian waving at us.

“Please, no,” she said under her breath.

“Hi, I’m Jil ian, head cheerleader.” Flip of the hair. “I didn’t get a chance to welcome you to our wonderful school yesterday. Did you even attend yesterday?” She smiled a syrupy sweet smile.

“I was here yesterday; Travis introduced us, remember?” Her voice was equal y syrupy sweet.

“I don’t remember. I’m sorry.” Tilt of the head, fake confusion.

“Wel , it was nice talking to you, but we’re going to be late.” She turned and took my hand. I pul ed her away from the daggers shooting from Jil ‘s eyes. I was holding her hand! I’d wanted to hold her hand al day, and now I was holding her hand.

“Is this OK?” She raised our hands.

“Completely.”

I said goodbye to her at the doorway to her free period classroom and turned to go to my class. I made it to my class and found my seat. I didn’t listen to the teacher’s lecture; I just read her note over and over.

Travis,

Thank you for sharing with me. It does make me feel a little better to know that I’m not going through this alone. I’m sure there are a lot of other kids who have lost their parents, other kids who might even be in worse situations than what I am now. Sometimes life isn’t fair. Before my mom died, I enjoyed being the center of attention. I became a little spoiled. After she got sick, though, I felt guilty. Because I became so comfortable in our life and our home, I took it for granted. I didn’t appreciate my mom all the time. One time a few years ago, we fought in a department store because I wanted her to spend two hundred dollars on a pair of old-looking ripped up jeans. I told her that she was selfish, didn’t want me to be happy, and was a horrible mother. I instantly regretted it. I apologized, but something changed. The next day when I got home from my music classes, the jeans were lying on my bed. I’m actually wearing them today. I kept them because I didn’t want to forget how I made her feel. I didn’t want to ever risk taking someone that I care so deeply about for granted. I don’t really know why I’m unloading like this; I think it’s special that you and I can share these personal things.

I do want to get to know you. So I have some questions for you, in our quest of acquainting (I know it’s a big word). (1) what is your favorite color?

(2) what is your favorite kind of music? (2b) who is your favorite band? (2c) what is your favorite song? (3) what is your favorite movie? (4) what is one of your favorite childhood memories? (5) Where is your favorite place to be?

It’s just five little questions. You can ask me anything too I will tell you the truth even if it’s the brutal truth. I promise. But I think that will keep you occupied for your next note. See you soon.

-Gia

A Simple Letter, the Possible Window to My Soul

Gianna

I sat in my free period, trying to start an outline for a paper analyzing one of Edgar Al en Poe’s poems. I stared at the blank piece of paper. I wondered if I was foolish for tel ing Travis about the fight I’d had with my mom. I hadn’t even told Alex about it. We were school shopping, and the tantrum I threw after she calmly refused to purchase them was awful. I was going to be a freshman, and I wanted to succeed social y as Alex had.

She’d told me not even to try them on. I’d insisted. As soon as I blurted those hurtful words I’d clamped my hands over my mouth. It was the only time she’d ever raised her voice to me. She told me to change and that we were leaving. We didn’t buy anything. The next day when I got home from my piano lessons, they were lying on my bed. They were the only thing I got for my school clothes that year instead of the two hundred dol ars worth of outfits. The lesson was learned. I didn’t pursue my popularity any further than that. Today was the first time I’d worn them since trying them on.

I made it to Art Comp and set my books down. Abby came in with a confused look on her face as she sat down on her stool.

“Mason just asked me if he could help me wash my hair Friday.” She looked at me.

“Maybe he likes you?” I giggled.

“Wel , yeah, look at me! What’s not to like?” She shook her head no in disbelief. A few boys turned their heads and looked at her nodding their approval, which made us giggle more.

“Seriously, do you like him?” I asked.

“It’s Mason, I mean, come on. It’s Mason. He and Travis are high on the crush list for girls and he can have his pick of whoever he wants. He’s Mason,” she repeated, as if that explained everything. She looked off in the distance as if she were stil trying to wrap her mind around it.

“Yes, we’ve established that it’s Mason we’re talking about.” I went over to retrieve the projects we were working on. I set them down and began shading. Our teacher walked around the class, keeping her eyes on us. Still on her radar, I thought.

“It’s not unbelievable that he would like you. Do you like him?” I asked again.

“I’ve never been liked. Wel , I mean as a friend I have, but never liked.” She looked nervous as if this were uncharted territory.

“Wel , then, give him your number and see if he cal s.” I smiled encouragingly.

“He has my number.” She began chewing on her fingernail. I looked at her questioningly. “I tutor a lot of the footbal team.” She shrugged.

“Then maybe you should give him the nudge that it’s OK to cal you even if it’s not just for tutoring.” I winked at her. She stil looked unsure.

I didn’t know how I made it through my final class, but I managed. I went to my locker and got the books I needed for homework. A note fel to the floor. I picked it up and put it in my bag. I was off to The Green Monster. That truck real y scared me; it was so big. I real y hated driving it, but it was better than walking. I made it home and went inside and put my bag down at the table.

“Oliver?” I cal ed out, as I climbed the stairs to get my laptop. There was no answer. I brought it down and turned it on. While I waited for it to load, I grabbed myself some ice water and returned. It was up and connected to the Wi-Fi. Poor Alex had to go the first week with no internet. It had taken Oliver a week to get it instal ed. I was sure he hadn’t thought this whole thing through. There were expenses to raising children and the lifestyle we’d become accustomed to. I didn’t feel sorry for him in the slightest. I opened my email. I had three new messages: one from Gracie, another from Melissa, and the third from Mitchel . I opened his first.

Gia,

Thank you for the email. You haven’t called yet. I hope to hear from you soon. Are you getting settled in? Alex told me his first game is Friday. I wish I could be there. Just know that I will be there in spirit and hope to get all the details.

It’s hard being in this house without all of you here. I expect to come home and find your mother making her jambalaya. But she isn’t here; neither are you and your brother. This house feels so big and empty. That is why I’ve decided to put it up for sale. It will be on the market by the end of the week. I felt that I should let you know before I did it. I miss you two. Call me.

Love

Mitchell

It made me sad to know that he missed us so much. We missed him, too. I could have written him that a hundred times. But I didn’t like the idea of him putting my mother’s house up for sale. She was barely gone a month, yet he was so ready to move on. Those were our memories that he was walking away from. I knew Alex wouldn’t be happy either.

I read Gracie’s anecdotal email about the first day of school. Then I read Melissa’s actual account of their first day. I wrote them both back one email. I told them about my new school. I had to tel them about Chiz; I had a feeling Gracie would have thought he was cute. And I told them about Travis a little. I knew there would be more questions. I told them about Abby’s hair because they had liked her a lot when she’d visited me in summers past. Then I wrote Mitchel .

Mitchell,

School is going well. I’m sorry I haven’t called. We are getting settled in. The first thing we did was paint our bedrooms. We’ve been driving Oliver’s old truck around. They call it Bessie, but I call it The Green Monster. Alex is really excited about the game. I will tell him you’ll be rooting for him.

I hope that you will reconsider selling the house if only for just a little bit. We have a lot of memories there. I know I speak for Alex, too, when I say that we were hoping to have it to come home to when we visit. I understand how hard it is though. I miss my mom so much, and being here has dredged up so many memories that I’m having trouble dealing with. We miss you too, and I promise I will call soon.

Love

-Gia

My arrow hovered over the SEND button. I wondered if I should talk to Alex first. I was pretty sure he’d feel the same way that I did. I hit the SEND

button anyway. Then I typed up an outline for my paper. I saw the note poking out of my bag. I wanted to read it, but I decided to reward myself with it after homework. Final y, I attacked my math homework. It was a surprise attack and I defeated my enemy. I figured I made some mistakes though; algebra wasn’t my strongest subject. I was on my last problem, also contemplating dinner, when my phone rang. It was Alex.

“Do you need me to come get you today?” Of course, I didn’t say hel o first.

“No, we’re going through a drive through. What do you want?”

“You know me, cheeseburger and fries.” I smiled because he didn’t need to ask and was probably just giving me warning.

“Sounds good. See you in fifteen.” I hung up the phone and began to clear my books, put them in my bag, and carry it and my laptop upstairs. I put my laptop on my dresser and surveyed myself. My hair stil hung pretty much in place. I had to put a curling mousse in it to get it to stay in loose curls every day. But if I didn’t bother it, it pretty much stayed there the whole day and was stil soft to the touch. My face was shiny though. I went to the bathroom and washed it with cleanser. I came back and lightly applied eye shadow and mascara. I looked at my jeans again and sighed.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” I whispered. Suddenly my heart felt warm, and I felt that she had forgiven me and understood. I heard the front door bang as they came in.

“Gia must be upstairs,” Alex said.

“I’l get her,” Travis replied.

“I bet you wil ,” Alex cal ed after him, and Travis came stomping up the stairs. I came to the door as he rounded the corner, and we were face to face. He stepped back as I reached for the doorknob.

“Is that your room?” He looked around me as I pul ed the door shut.

“Yes, is the food here?” I stepped past him to descend the stairs. He fol owed.

“Yes.” We came down to Alex separating the food among us. I got condiments, and we al sat down to eat. They fil ed me in on the latest prank that Chiz and Brandon had played on the freshmen. They didn’t real y laugh about it, but agreed that it was the right of passage to be part of the team.

“I’m just glad that I’m not part of the team. I don’t think I’d be very happy,” I said. Travis looked confused.

“Gia doesn’t do wel with surprises. Last year, her best friends back in Indy threw her a surprise birthday party. She pouted al night,” Alex told Travis.

“I just don’t see the point. I can help plan it and know what’s going on.”

“She’s sort of a control freak about stuff like that,” he told him, ignoring me. Travis laughed. “Just warning you about what you’re getting yourself into,” Alex added. I stiffened.

Alex cleaned up his wrappers and threw them away. He climbed the stairs and told Travis, “Later.” Travis finished and cleared his wrappers. He sat back down and waited on me to finish.