Falling (Bits and Pieces, Book 1) (2 page)

“To see if I’m good enough.” I whispered.

“You’re not. Why embarrass yourself and the family?” She said emphatically. She shook her head in disapproval. “And this we wouldn’t be able to shield you from. Everyone would know you made a fool of yourself. Do you want that? Be constantly reminded of your poor choices?”

I hung my head down and stared at my computer. “No.” I choked down my tears. I didn’t want to get chastised about crying over this.

I stopped the song and unplugged my speakers. There was no point in continuing.

“Why can’t you be more like your cousin Leenie? Good. Quiet. Modest. Obeys her parents and doesn’t embarrass the family.” She patted me on the back and headed to her bedroom to change out of her work clothes.

Ah, yes. My cousin Kathleen, who was three years older than me and the family called Leenie, doesn’t aspire for much of anything. Her parents picked her school and her major for her. She’s content to live sheltered and under her parents’ thumb. Kathleen was the classic definition of demure. She does what they say and doesn’t rock the boat. Not that I saw myself rocking or shocking anything. It wasn’t like I dressed all in black, had tattoos or piercings all over my body or dyed my hair in florescent colors. I melted into the background, the landscape at school. I did my best not to call unnecessary attention to myself. But, I did aspire to be the best at anything I did and loved. Sometimes, that meant I had to be in the spotlight. No, I didn’t want to make a fool of myself. That’s why I planned to practice. Why didn’t she see that?

I wanted more than my family’s limited view on life. Sometimes, I guess, that got me into trouble. Why did it always come down to ‘embarrassing the family’? I was brought up to respect my elders and that family was the most important thing. How could I do those things and still be myself? Be who I wanted to be? It was like they couldn’t coexist. There was no way they’d support it.

Some things were better left unsaid. Such as, things I wanted. I might not get the solo, but I wanted to try. Trying didn’t hurt anyone, especially my parents. They didn’t have to know about it. They didn’t have to watch or pay anything, so why should they care? I’d just have to practice when I was by myself at home or in the car. That would be the only way to save myself the grief from my parents.

I opened up my math book and stared at my homework assignment. I needed to escape this crushing feeling. Homework was a good distraction, once I got enough traction in my brain to start on it. I turned on the television. I knew that I drifted from my homework, when I found myself focusing more on the television than on the problem I was working on. It was a backup distraction.

My mom came out of her bedroom and headed to the kitchen to start dinner. I worked on my math homework and tried to avoid any unnecessary contact with her. She called me into the kitchen to make the salad and cook rice. I was in the middle of a problem. It was tough. All I wanted to do was continue to work on it, try to solve it. But, I had to stop to help my mom. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to help fix dinner, it was that I wanted to finish my math homework, at least that problem first. I got up from the couch where I worked. As quickly as I could, I prepared the rice and had it going in the rice cooker. I had to be slower in chopping the vegetables for the salad or I was liable to cut my finger. I never understood why she asked me to cut stuff, she knew I was clumsy and putting a knife in my hands, could easily spell disaster. She always yelled at me to be careful, as if I wasn’t. I’ve had so many near misses, I was due for an accident. It was just a matter of time.

When I finished making the salad, I set the table. I wasn’t really hungry, but I knew I had to set a place for myself. I went back to my homework and that stubborn math problem I couldn’t solve. My dad arrived home just as my mom was finished cooking.

The three of us sat down at the table for dinner. I dished out very small portions of the stir-fry, rice and salad. I still wasn’t very hungry. The dinner conversation revolved around my parents and their day, as usual. I didn’t contribute much except ‘yeah’ and ‘oh’ to the discussion. I pushed my food around my plate to make it look like I ate. They were so absorbed in their stories, they didn’t notice. After an obligatory amount of time sitting there, I excused myself to finish my homework. I took my plate to the trash, scraped off the food and placed it in the sink.

I grabbed my backpack, laptop, books and MP3 player and went to my room to finish my homework. I didn’t want to deal with my mom anymore tonight. I couldn’t take much more from her right now.

Once I got in my room, I turned on my television for background noise. If I played music, I was afraid my mom would come in and scold me again. They knew if the television was on, I was definitely studying. I always thought it was funny that studies stated that television and studying didn’t mix. That students who studied with the television on were not successful in school or couldn’t concentrate. It was the one thing that my parents conceded. I got good grades while I had the television on, so they never bugged me about it. I was thankful for any small victory and concession I could get. So, if I wanted them to leave me alone, the television was definitely on. It was on a lot.

I decided to finish my other homework before going back to my math problem that didn’t want to get solved. I was very frustrated to be stuck on the same problem for so long. It wasn’t right. The upside was that it did distract me from my mom’s views on me trying out. Immersing myself in my school work was a great avoidance technique for me. It was my coping mechanism. It had worked in the past, and continued to do so. So, who was I to mess with what worked?

It was around nine when I finished all my homework. I got ready for bed and shut off my lights. I set my television to sleep mode, so it would shut off in 45 minutes. I used the background noise of the television to block out the random thoughts that usually kept me up at night. With it on, I could fall asleep. Without it, I stayed up thinking about anything and everything. Actually, the television or my MP3 player worked in helping me fall asleep, but I didn’t want to think about music right now. I fell asleep hearing the news previewing some carnival that was coming to town for a few weeks.

2. NEW PARTNER

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen! Everybody up!” Mr. Davis, my physics teacher exclaimed. It was first period and way too early to be this energetic. “We are changing seats. Come on. Everyone up, line up against the walls.” The class groaned and made their way with their backpacks against the walls of the classroom.

Was it time to change seats already? Mr. D had just changed our seats a few weeks ago. This would be my third seat in his class since school started six weeks ago. Wow, it was already mid-October. I just didn’t notice. There was no point to it, really. As long as I got my work done, I was left alone. The calendar only existed as a due date listing for homework.

Great, new seats. For the most part, I hated change. This, of course, meant the changing of lab partners which was sometimes okay and sometimes bad. I really liked science. It made sense to me. I could think my way through it. Some partners I’ve had, on the other hand, not so much. Which idiot will Mr. D pair me up now? Wait, that was harsh. I didn’t mean that. What I meant was, which non-studying, shouldn’t be taking this class, won’t do their homework and doesn’t care about their grade, underachiever will I get stuck doing all the work with?

Mr. Davis worked his way from the back of the room to the front, letting students know where they should sit. Two-thirds of the class had already found out their new seats and sat down, when I looked around and who was left standing with me. I looked at who was left and thought, maybe this time I won’t have to carry my lab partner. I hated that. If I split the work, like I was supposed to, then I’d get a bad grade on the lab or work. I didn’t want that. So, I tried to help out my partner as much as I could, but eventually, I’d just do it myself. I think, Mr. D had realized that and would finally not pair me up with someone that I could ‘help’. Just because it’s an advanced placement class, doesn’t mean that everyone’s smart. You’d think that, but then you’d be wrong.

Two more pairs sat down in their new seats. Who was left? Amy, who was also in my English class, always got A’s, real nice and kind of quiet. Joey, who played varsity soccer, smart, but really annoying, it was like he didn’t know we weren’t in kindergarten anymore – always wadding up paper and throwing it at me. Agh. Patrick, who played varsity basketball, smart and definitely one of the most popular kids at school – athletics, academics, he was good at everything. Kevin, who always asked those annoying questions in class, like he wasn’t paying attention, like he wasn’t even trying to understand. Lastly, there was Sarah, who didn’t act like she wanted to be taking an AP class, so I didn’t understand why she didn’t switch out.

Mr. D walked along the front row of tables. He paused at one table. “Sarah. Amy.” They moved across the room and sat down. Please, don’t let me get stuck with Joey. Or Kevin for that matter. Agh. He moved to the next table and pointed, “Joey. Kevin.” They deserved each other. Well, no one else deserved to be stuck with them. Mr. D went to the last table in the front row. “Patrick. Last, but not least,
Elizabeth
. I mean, Liz.”

I kind of liked my new seat. I didn’t mind the front row. And, most importantly, there were at least two people between Joey and me. Two guys. I really hoped he wouldn’t try to bug me when there was Kevin and Patrick that would be in the crossfire.

Mr. D stood in front of the class to get everyone’s attention. “Alright, ladies and gentlemen. You know the drill. You each have 30 seconds to share something about yourself to your new partner. Person on the right goes first.”

“Hi. I’m Patrick. Not Pat. I hate it when people call me that, like I’m a piece of butter or something you do to a dog’s head.” He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I love basketball, playing it, watching it. I have a sister at Stanford and kid brother.” He paused and was looking at me weird. “Aren’t you in my AP English and AP Calculus class?”

Mr. D spoke loudly over the class, “Okay, that’s 30 seconds. Left side’s turn!”

“Ok, I guess I’m the left side.
Umm.. I’m Liz or Elizabeth.
I kinda prefer Liz though. I don’t mind watching some sports, like basketball is okay. But I can’t play them. Was never any good at it, always seemed to hurt myself. I like to think that I’m lucky that I’m coordinated enough to get my driver’s license and that’s about it.” I tried to think of something else to say. “Oh, yeah, we do have English and math together too.”

“Okay, ladies and gentlemen!” Again, his even-tempered voice rose over the class. “Now, that you’ve met your new partner, it’s time to see what’s going on in today’s exciting world of physics!” Mr. D was a great teacher, made physics interesting and understandable. I really respected him. But, sometimes he was a dork, maybe that’s how he made the class interesting. That’s why he was a cool teacher, he knew he was acting goofy and was okay with it.

Mr. D talked about the new kinetic and potential energy lab then passed around the handout. There were calculations to work out before we could design our experiment. I started to read and work through the first problem. “So, were you able to do the challenge problem for calc?”

“Huh?” I was surprised that the conversation that started didn’t revolve around the lab we had to do.

“The last problem in last night’s homework that Ms. Adams gave us. Did you get it?” He glanced up at me then continued to work on his calculations.

“Yeah. Took me a while though. It was kinda hard. What about you?”

“It was tough. Took me longer than I thought it would.” He had just finished the first problem he was working on. “You done? What did you get for the first one?” He slid his paper over to me to compare our answers. I moved my paper next to his. We had the same solution. “Cool.”

We each took our papers back and started working on the next problem. Patrick chuckled, “You’re funny.”

“Funny?” Me? I never thought of myself as funny.

“Coordinated enough to drive? Come on. You really can’t be that bad. No one is that bad.”

“No, I am that bad. I run into things all the time. Sometimes I don’t realize I hurt myself until I get some mystery bruise.” I looked at him and realized I was talking to a guy on the basketball team. I shook my head, “You wouldn’t understand.”

He thought about it a second. “Well, actually I do. There are some bruises and scratches that I have no idea how I got. It would suck knowing I got hurt doing everyday stuff and not realize it. Heh. Usually my bruises happen on the court or on the field. Friendly pick-up games aren’t always so friendly.”