Authors: Jeanne Bannon
“
Well, she’s not like the other moms,” I say, toeing off my sneakers.
My mother Heidi is forty-four going on twenty-one. She’s my opposite in every way. Where I’m big and awkward like an ox, she’s small and dainty. I wear comfortable running shoes and live in T-shirts and baggy sweats and she wears tight designer jeans, four-inch spikes and low-cut tops. Make-up for me consists of a little black eyeliner and pale lip-gloss. Mom is always so done up she looks like a hooker or, at best, a stripper ready for the stage. The gym and the hair salon are her homes away from home. But what I find the most horrifying are her tattoos and piercings.
“
I’ve tried talking to her, but you know how she can get,” Grandma says, turning to me. “Did something happen?”
I pick at my chipped black nail polish and wonder if it’s really Mom I’m upset with, or is it the fact I don’t fit in with my own family? I’m not like them, any of them, not my mom, my dad, or my sister. Gran’s the only one I can relate to.
“
No, Gran. But something will. It always does.”
Grandma Rose grabs the kettle and fills it. “How about a cup of tea? You wanna play Sing Star?” Her eyes brighten with the words.
I nod and smile, knowing how much Grandma Rose loves her Play Station 3 and all those singing games.
“
Oh good,” she says with a giggle.
She sets the kettle on a burner and claps her hands, and in less than a minute I’m singing to the 90s with my eighty-year-old grandmother.
Chapter Three
I always leave Grandma Rose’s apartment with a smile on my face and an ache in my heart. I wish my mother were like her. How lucky for my mom to have such a wonderful, almost normal, mother. I’m stuck with a parent in an ever-present state of adolescence, whose life’s mission is to desperately hang onto what’s left of her looks. My mom, with her rat’s nest of hair stacked high on her head, dyed cherry red with chunky blonde highlights and dark brown lowlights, and extensions thrown in for good measure.
A woman can’t ever have too much hair
, she’s forever saying. Giving me her version of what passes as parental advice. I prefer Gran’s words of wisdom – “extensions make a woman look trampy” and “dye your hair only when the white comes in.” It seems more dignified, because I think a woman
can
have too much hair.
Dad’s just as bad, with his funky jeans, Ed Hardy T-shirts, pointy-toed boots, pierced ears, tattoos and a soul patch. He’s going to be
fifty
next year, for God’s sake. The thought makes me cringe. I live with dim-witted middle-aged teenagers.
Gran tells me all the time it’s not what’s on the outside that’s important and I know she’s right. I suppose I’m a bit of a hypocrite, since I’m always complaining about my weight or my height, or the fact I don’t have a boyfriend. But I’m supposed to be obsessed with fitting in and with my looks; after all, I’m the teenager.
It’s only a ten-minute walk home from Gran’s. I tilt my face toward the sun, soaking in the warmth of the spring day as I make my way along familiar streets. When I approach the park on the corners of Whiteside Avenue and Moorehouse Drive, I stop dead. Sudden dread causes the beat of blood to fill my ears.
There are three boys and a girl
Nino Campese, Tyler Campbell, his girlfriend Julia and Jon Kingsbury. They’re seniors like me and even though we’ve known each other since kindergarten, once adolescence hit and separated the weak from the strong, the cool from the nerd, I became prey. I was hunted by those better looking, and with more attitude, simply for their entertainment.
I plunge my hands into the pockets of my jean jacket and hang my head. Taking large quick steps, I tread quietly. They’re talking and laughing and the foul scent of cigarette smoke wafts past me in the breeze. From the corner of my eye, I spot Julia and Tyler sharing a butt as they cling together under the large plastic orange slide. Nino’s holding court and Tyler’s laughing at something Nino has said and Jon
well Jon just stands there, looking bored.
Why is
he
with
them
? My heart sinks. I thought Jon was different.
Tyler’s eyes flicker my way; immediately I pick up my pace.
“
Hey!” someone yells.
I don’t answer.
“
Where do you think you’re goin’, ya fat cow?” Nino hollers, as he jogs up beside me followed by Julia and Tyler.
“
Home,” I say, not stopping.
Nino jumps into my path. “Where’s your girlfriend, Savullo?” He sneers and spits a snotty gob at my feet.
“
Lesbo freak,” Julia chimes in and flicks a butt at my face.
It bounces off my chin with a burning sting. I glare down at her with her hawkish nose and eyes that are too close together. “Get out of my way,” I growl through gritted teeth and try to step around them, but Tyler grabs my elbow, his fingers bite into my flesh and a small groan escapes me.
“
We’re not done talkin’ yet, hippo,” he snarls.
I yank free. Tears sting my eyes and the heat of anger and embarrassment reddens my face.
“
Leave me alone!” I scream and push. Tyler’s tall, but skinny and I manage to knock him on his ass. But as soon as I take a step, Nino and Julia are on me.
“
Leave her alone,” Jon calls. He hung back from the action and is still standing by the orange slide.
I slam a shoulder into Julia’s face and hear a crunch as my bulk meets her nose. Blood spurts and the purple blur of manicured nails flash past, as she whips a hand to her face.
She gazes up at me in surprise. “You broke my nose, you bitch!” Then she looks at Tyler with eyes that say “you better do something about this.”
My heart beats so hard, the swishing of blood in my ears is a roar. They’re swearing, yelling and threatening me, but panic has taken over as adrenaline pushes into my veins, and I make out nothing coherent.
I turn and try to run back the way I’d come. But another hand is on me, biting the flesh of my upper arm through the fabric of my jacket. Then a fist smashes into the back of my head. “You’re nothin’ but a fat dyke.”
My knees smack the gritty concrete as my legs buckle, and deep heaving sobs erupt from me.
Why do they hate me?
“
Where the hell did she go?” Nino asks, his voice laced with astonishment.
“
Holy shit!” Julia and Tyler exclaim at the same time. “What the…?”
Slowly, I pivot and look at them. They’re turning in circles, searching for me.
Jon is with them now. “She’s gone,” he whispers in wide-eyed disbelief.
“
What? How?” Nino asks.
I creep away on elastic legs.
Chapter Four
I don’t stop running until I’m home. I have no idea if I’m still invisible or not until I sprint through the front door and past my sister.
“
Slow down,” she yells as I fly past her to my room.
I hurl my bulk onto my bed. The old frame groans and creaks in protest. The last thing I want is for Eva or my mother to come running, so I cry into my pillow to silence my sobs. For Eva, my suffering would be entertainment. Mom would hover and try to make me tell her what was wrong. But what was wrong with me was something she could never understand; something she could never relate to. Even now, at forty-four, she’s one of
those
people; one of the popular, the cool, the elite.
Do you know how it feels to be the geek in your own family? In high school, she and Dad were the king and queen of the nerd hunters. Ironic, isn’t it? I never tell her squat. You’d think by now she would realize I’ll never confide in her.
After fifteen minutes of feeling sorry for myself, I shift onto my back and fish my cellphone from my pocket.
Can u come over?
I type and hit send.
A second later my best and
only
friend Charlie answers,
give me 5 mins – helping to put away groceries
.
Hurry
, I text back.
The book on my night table catches my eye,
The Stand
, by Stephen King. For a moment I contemplate reading until Charlie gets here, but I’m too upset, even though reading and writing are the things I love to do most in the world. Instead, I decide to change and wash my face.
Charlene, aka Charlie, has been my best friend since grade one. She’s an only child. Her parents are divorced and her greatest thrill in life is pissing off her mother. Charlie is fair and freckled and a natural blonde, but she dyed her hair black with a shock of bright purple running across the front of her short bob. She’s got a nose ring, a pierced eyebrow and a tattoo of a skull on her forearm, which I think is cool. Charlie usually wears her attitude on her face – mean and snarly, but her outsides don’t match what’s on the inside. I’m the only person close enough to her to actually know Charlie’s secret – she’s a sensitive girl with a heart of gold.
My parents have tattoos and piercings, but I absolutely hate theirs. They look ridiculous and I’m embarrassed by them. There should be a law that those things aren’t allowed once a person hits thirty.
After cleaning myself up, I plop back down on my bed and
rub my temples, which are beginning to pound with pain and irritation.
I don’t know what’s more upsetting, the bullying at the park or that I disappeared again. The events of the day run through my mind, and I try to convince myself that in time none of this will matter.
Nino and Tyler will probably end up as janitors and Julia will get knocked up and be a welfare mom. I, on the other hand, have a bright future. I’m going to university to major in English literature and will be a best-selling author, the female Stephen King. I’ve already had two short stories published and even got paid $20 for one of them. A small smile settles on my lips. Writing, Grandma, and Charlie are my life. I don’t know how I would survive if any of them were taken from me.
The thought of Jon Kingsbury hanging with those losers nags me. He’s not like them. I’ve had a crush on Jon since fourth grade. He’s tall, a lot taller than me, and I think he’s adorable. He’s not the most popular kid in school and the girls aren’t exactly crazy for him, but he’s cute in what Gran would describe as “he’ll grow into his looks” kinda way. He’s got dark brown, curly hair that rests at the top of his collar, dark blue eyes and wildly deep dimples. He’s about 6ft 3 inches but on the skinny side and his nose is a little too big for his face, but when he gets older and puts on some weight, he’ll be cuter. I think that’s what Gran meant about boys like him growing into their looks.
At school, it’s just Charlie and me most of the time, but Jon’s always friendly and nice. My stomach lurches at the thought of him being a part of what happened to me today.
The doorbell rings and Eva answers it. A moment later, Charlie’s in the doorway of my bedroom, decked out in her usual; an over-sized T-shirt and black skinny jeans with a studded belt.
“
So?” she says, settling beside me on the bed.
My room’s still decorated as if I were twelve; white furniture and pink walls. I’ve begged Mom for years for a more age-appropriate room, but pink is
her
favorite color and so pink it will stay. I did, however, manage for my Barbie lamp to meet with an unfortunate “accident,” and it was replaced with a cool lava lamp.
“
I had a bad day,” I say and dab my eyes with a balled up Kleenex.
Charlie grabs my shoulders and holds me at arm’s length. “Are you crying?”
I nod.
Although she’s sensitive, Charlie’s not the overtly emotional type. As a matter of fact, I’ve never seen her cry; not even when her parents divorced, but she’s a good listener and always has great advice.
“
Your mother?” she asks.
“
No.” I don’t know where to begin; with the bullying or with the disappearing. I decide on the bullying and get every detail out as fast as I can before the tears really start to flow ’cause then I won’t be able to talk.
“
Jee-sus. What the hell’s the matter with those assholes?” she says and pulls me in for a hug. “Don’t worry. They’re just a bunch of losers anyway.” She smoothes my hair.
I hug her back, thankful to have such a wonderful friend. “There’s something else,” I say, breaking away and holding her gaze.
She furrows her brow. “Is it bad?”
I shrug, not really knowing how to answer. “You tell me.”
She leans back against my headboard, eyes on me, waiting.
“
Sometimes I disappear.”
Chapter Five
I tell Charlie how I disappeared for the first time at my camp counsellor job and then tell her about what happened today. She sits wide-eyed, jaw hanging nearly to her chest.