Entrelacen (4 page)

“April.” I can hear my name being called in
all directions. I’m standing in a field of sunflowers. I
know this has to be a dream. Otherwise I would be
having a major reaction to these flowers. My throat
would be closing, and I would be swelling up, so I
take the time to admire their beauty. “April, you need
to pay attention. We don’t have much time.”

I look down at my arms and see goose bumps
from the breeze that blew that message to me. “Who
are you? Where are you?”

“We’re
many. We’re all around you, in the air
you breathe, the grass you walk on, the sun that
shines on your face.”

That’s a little scary. “So you are the universe?
The goddesses that my mom speaks of?” I wait for a
reply that doesn’t seem like it’s going to come, when
the landscape changes, and I’m floating on a cloud
surrounded by millions of stars.

"
We’re who you say. We know why you left and
find it noble for you to stick by your friend, but you
must go home when your mom comes for you. You are
destined for something more than this path you are on
now. There will be many obstacles, and at times you
might feel like you can’t go on, but push through. You
have strength inside you that you don’t see yet. Give it
time daughter. Your power will grow inside you, and
with that, you will do great things.” I want to ask
more questions, but I’m being pulled away…

“April Marie Martinez you better open your
eyes and get your ass up right this second!”
I opened my eyes to see my mother standing
in the doorway. I shake Lisa awake, and she realized
we were caught. Without saying a word, we got up,
grabbed our bags, and made our way to the car. I tried
to form an explanation in my head, preparing myself
for an unpleasant conversation.
A cop met us at the house. Have you ever
talked to a cop when you’re in trouble? Let me tell
you, It’s the scariest thing ever. I was literally sitting
on the couch shaking and lisping on my letter "S". I
hadn’t done that since the second grade.
“April can you enlighten us on what was going
on in your head that made you feel like it was a smart
idea to leave home without a guardian?”
I couldn't decide if I should lie or tell the truth.
I looked over at Lisa, who nodded her head to let me
know it was okay to tellthe truth. So that’s what I did.
I was honest for the first time this weekend.
“I made a pact with Lisa that if something got
too hard for one of us, we would leave together. No
questions asked. I knew at the time it was a stupid
pact Officer Ramirez, but in all honesty, I never
thought we would go through with it.”
That’s when Lisa told them it was her idea,
that there had been problems at her house, and she
needed out. She told them about the pact we made to
always stick together, always.
The cop told us that we should consider
talking to someone before trying to take care of the
problem ourselves. He gave us a warning and left. My
mom, being the understanding person she is, told Lisa
she could move in with us until things got better at
home. Her familydidn’t even bat an eye. I also got
sent to counselling.
Have you ever been to counselling? It’s a joke,
a big huge joke. They don’t care what you are going
through; you are just another case that gets them paid.
I have never been much of a talker, especially
when it comes to how I’m feeling. So for one hour a
day I sat and stared at this lady who couldn’t care less
about what was going on in my head. I’m not cocky
or confident, but I know I’m smart. I know when I’m
being lied to, and having to face this every day for the
next month was going to be torture in its purest form.
I walked into the office, and a lady that didn’t
look much older than me was sitting behind a desk. I
took it upon myself to take in my surroundings, you
know for safety and all that. One wall was completely
filled of books. I stared in awe. I’ve always wanted
my own personal library. There’s just something about
being surrounded by books that’s calming. I know that
makes me sound like anuber geek, but that’s ok. Its
the truth, and that’s all that matters. There was this red
couch in front of the books, so I took a seat before she
could tell me to sit in one of the chairs in front of her
desk. The office felt really welcoming, but I didn’t let
that fool me. Her degrees were framed, and they hung
on the wall behind her desk. There were also a few
family photos scattered around the place. Decorations
say a lot about someone and what is important to
them. Everything matched. From the cherry desk, to
the cherry color of the bookcases, to the cherry frames
on the photos.
“I’m Dr. Melanie Michaels. You are?”
“Doesn’t the file in front of you say who I’m?”
Yes, I know I sound a little bit snarky, but come on,
who in their right mind would go to a shrink if they
didn’t have to. All I got was a look in response, so I
sighed, “April.”
“Do you hate yourself?”
What kind of question was that? Umm no, I
didn’t hate myself. That was a loaded question to ask
first anyway.
“No.”
“Then why do you cut yourself?”
Ah. That’s it. Passing judgment. Aren’t
therapist supposed to evaluate, not make
assumptions? How’d she know I cut myself? I guess
my mom must have known about it all along and just
chose to see if I would ever approach her about it.
“Well, I cut myself because it makes me feel
something.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“Not really, no.”
“I’m just trying to understand you April. This
would go a lot easier if you would cooperate” She
seemed frustrated.
Hmm, cooperate? Yeah right. I was tired of
this. I could see judgment written all over her face.
“Fine. Yes I cut myself. Why? Well I cut
because sometimes I feel so alone that pain is better
than feeling numb.”
“Why do you feel numb?”
I stared at her. Was she being serious? All this
was confidential, right? Maybe she did care and could
help me. After all I cut because I wanted someone to
notice that I wasn't okay. Could I trust her enough to
talk to her? I was all over the place. The look of
judgment was gone and was replaced with empathy?
Could that be right, or was I misreading her? No that
look was definitely empathy. Maybe she had gone
through this too.
“My mom is working her as- butt off to
provide for our family while my dad sits on his butt
and does nothing. My brother feels like he has to gain
my father’s respect. I see how much it hurts him when
my dad constantly ignores him. He’s constantly
getting in trouble hoping to get his attention. I’m tired
of my mom working day and night to provide for us
when my dad does nothing. So why do I feel numb,
you ask? While my mom is working, my dad is doing
whatever the hellIt’s he does, and my brother is
grabbing all the attention by whatever means he can,
who pays attention to me?”
“So you’re doing it for attention?”
“No, not necessarily for the attention. If I
wanted attention, I would act stupid like my brother
and friends. I would go party, get trashed, have sex,
and maybe end up pregnant.”
“So if it’s not attention you seek, what do you
want?”
“To be recognized. To be seen. To know that
someone is paying attention to what’s going on in my
life. I want someoneto care.”
“You don’t think your mom cares? Why don’t
you talk to her?”
“My mom has her own problems. I don’t want
to burden her with mine. I know she cares. I know she
loves me, but I love her too. These insecurities are my
own. My problem. I have to deal with them on my
own.”
“Maybe instead of cutting yourself, you can
start keeping a journal. Find something that gives you
passion so you don’t have to feel numb anymore.”
That made sense. Maybe she did care. Maybe I
was wrong to judge her and think she was the same as
everyone else.
“I‘ll try it. Are we finished?”
“You’re going to be okay April. Try writing. It
may be a really good outlet. See you at the same time
tomorrow.”

I felt like I was operating like a
machine. My life had always been on the
run. I never learned how to form lasting
connections with people. I’m not even sure
I wanted to do that. Everything around
me told me that when you let people in,
you’re setting yourself up to get hurt. My
birthday was coming up soon, and for the
first time I could actually celebrate it. It’s
the second birthday I have had in this
house, but I didn’t want to do anything
for the first one. Old habits die hard I
guess.

After the final incident that landed
me in the hospital, I was forced to start
seeing the counselor at school. Something
about lasting trauma and the negative
impact it could have on my future. I think
it was more the fact that they thought I
could snap at any given moment and
unleash the anger that has been trying to
claw its way out of me.

It was Monday. Another beginning
to a week of school, homework, and
pretending to be something I wasn’t. I
walked to the end of the street like I did
every school day. I passed by the same
houses and the same rocks. I wondered if
it’s this unified everywhere. One of the
things that I hated about living here was
that all the houses looked alike. Seriously.
The only variance was whether it’s a one
story or two story house. All the colors
were similar, same tile roof, same rock
landscaping. Every once in a while you
came across grass, not real grass, but the
fake stuff they use on golf courses.

I made it to the end of the block
and leaned against the wall. With my eyes
closed, I could sense everyone around me
staring. I wish I could say this was a new
development but it had been happening
for a long time. I was an enigma.

According to the whispers from
girls, I’m good looking, smart, and fit. I
could have easily slid into popularity, but
what’s the point? I know I’m the only one
who thought like this, but when you have
one parent trying to kill you and the
other parent MIA most of the time, trivial
popularity is the least of your worries.

I heard a group of girls making fun
of someone who was making her way to
the bus stop. Apparently it was a new girl.
Why it was a huge spectacle is beyond me.
I cracked an eye to see what the fuss was
about, and I felt my face betray my closed
off exterior by smiling.

The girl in front of me was about 5
foot 3 inches and was clearly trying to
make a statement with what she was
wearing. That’s the one good thing about
Vegas, you can be you, and though people
may pass judgment, you’re not called
names. She was wearing these black
skinny jeans, black converses, one laced
pink and one laced lime green. She had
this pink and green star belt on, the belt
buckle forming ‘whatever’, and a lime
green tank underneath a hot pink shirt
that had been cut, tied, and holed.

It wasn’t a trashy look by all means,
just different. It’s the shirt you have to
make to achieve its individuality. Her skin
was a soft caramel, her uniquely beautiful
face framed with burgundy shoulder
length hair, but the thing that pulled it all
together was her honey brown eyes. They
spoke volumes. I was immediately
intimidated by her. Those eyes could see
right through me. A blush was peaking
behind her high cheek bones, and a small
smile was being formed by her pink lips.

I was in trouble. She started walking
towards me, and I couldn’t help but get
nervous. I had talked to other girls before,
but not girls like her. She was something
else entirely, and we were either going to
be great friends or the worse enemies.

“Logan. I’m guessing you’re new
here?”
“Yeah. Is it that obvious?”
“Well if I saw you at the school, no
probably not, but you’re new to the bus
scene.”
The bus scene? Really Logan, could
you be any lamer? It got her to laugh, and
wow, she had the straightest, whitest
teeth I had ever seen. I had a feeling that
this girl was like me on so many levels.
Where I hid behind my wall, she hid
behind this image she created. The
‘whatever’ of her belt buckle screamed she
actually cares when she tried so hard to
pretend she didn’t.
“The bus scene? That’s hilarious. You
just know I’m new because you have never
seen me on the bus?”
“Well, yeah. I mean all the people
who have cars pick up their friends. Only
a few people still ride the bus. Obviously
we’re not in with the popular crowd. They
wouldn’t be caught on the bus.”
“Good to know. So Logan, what’s
your story, why are you slumming it?”
Why did she assume that I was
slumming it? Did I just seem like one of
the popular kids or something? No. She is
totally mistaken.
“I’m not slumming it. I’ve ridden the
bus since day one, and that was about 3
years ago.”
Wow. It had been three years since
we moved into this house. Three years
since my dad went to jail. Three years in
Vegas, and I have nothing to show for it.
No friends, a few acquaintances maybe,
but no friends.
“Oh, well umm, the way you look, I
just assumed you belonged to the popular
crowd.”
“I get that a lot, especially when I
first moved into this district. I’m not like
them, there are bigger problems than high
school politics.”
“You know Logan, I think this is the
start to a beautiful friendship.”
Her smile was infectious, and I
couldn’t help returning it. She was right
though; this was the beginning of
something great. The bus finally arrived,
and we all made our way over to it and
grabbed a seat. Deandra sat next to me.
We talked about school and her previous
life. She moved from California, which
explained her tan, and she was smart. I
was already hoping she had a few classes
with me. It would make the day so much
more bearable.
The bus pulled up to the high school.
It looked like a detention center. It felt like
a detention center, or at least what I
assumed a detention center would feel
like. We spent about 6 hours a day under
constant supervision, being told what to
read, what to write, and even what to
wear. Yes, high school was definitely a
detention center. It’s also a reality
television show. I knew people assumed I
was gay because they had never seen me
dating someone. All of the stupid remarks
the jocks made about me were pretty
comical. So I walked to class alone and
didn't date; that made me homosexual?
Well what about them? I mean they did
shower with the other guys on the team.
Don't jocks slap each other’s asses also? I
mean if anyone was gay, it’s them. I know
I shouldn’t think things like that. I’m not
homophobic by any means. We’re all
entitled to our own sexual preference.
Those jocks just get me riled up, and
instead of unleashing the beast inside,
errant thoughts surface.
I was heading in the direction of my
next class, Algebra, when I heard a
conversation that caught my attention.
“We saw you talking to Logan
earlier. Do you just move to new towns
and start dating guys the first day?”
“Umm first I don’t know you,
second if me and Logan were dating that
wouldn’t be any of your business, and
third jealousy is an ugly color.”
I turned around at the perfect time.
One of the girls from the bus stop and
two of her minions blatantly stared at
Deandra like she grew two heads. I think
the girls names were Ashley, Macy, and
Marcy. Deandra saw me and smiled,
walking away from them and over to me.
I couldn’t contain the laughter from seeing
the expressions on their faces, total Kodak
moment there.
“Why are you laughing so hard
Logan? That’s not the first time today
that someone asked if we were dating. It’s
like you’ve never had a girlfriend or
something, and I’m the first girl you have
ever hung out with”
“That’s because you are. I never
dated someone before. There’s too many
complications with my life to form any
bonds with anyone. That and the fact that
I don’t bend to the high school
expectations of dating as many girls as
possible and trying to sleep with them. I
have bigger problems to worry about.”
“Wow Logan. Are you sure you are
only seventeen?”
I could tell she was trying to figure
me out. Everyone tries with no success,
but I knew Deandra was different. I knew
I could trust her and let her in. The
problem was I knew my dad wasn’t going
to stay locked away forever. I knew there
was a big chance he would get out any
day now. Did I want to take that risk and
let her know me? Everything in me
screamed yes, I need that connection with
someone.
“You want to come over after
school? I can explain some things, fill you
in and you can decide if it’s worth taking
the risk on me.”
“Sure. Now let’s get to Algebra and
pretend to learn about the Pythagorean
Theorem. We can learn how it’s not going
to relate to the real world unless we’re
math majors.”
We busted out laughing and made
our way into the class. Of course we sat in
the back of the classroom. I’ve never been
a fan of math, but I’ve always gotten good
grades in the class. People think it’s
because I’m a nerd or teacher’s pet which
is ridiculous considering I spoke to no one.
I understand math because every equation
has a solution, even the equations that
can’t be solved can be answered with “no
solution.”
Before I knew it, the school day was
over, and I was meeting up with Deandra
outside. She wasn’t kidding when she said
people were talking about us. That's
another perk of being in high school;
rumors with no basis for truth. What is it
with girls that makes them feel like they
have to gossip? I know guys gossip too, but
not about who is dating who or what the
other guy has that he doesn’t. Well maybe
guys wonder, but we don’t put it out
there like that. Now it seems like you can’t
be friends with the opposite sex without
having sex with them. Deandra was very
attractive but I didn’t see her like that.
Maybe it’s because we had a connection on
a different level. It’s probably something
we would need to discuss; I didn’t want
her to get the wrong impression.
“So Logan, we should probably have
a talk," she said to me.
“Why does this feel like a ‘break-up’
conversation?” I laughed so hard at the
stunned expression on her face after I said
that.
“Very funny L, but I’m serious. I
need you to know that I don’t see you like
that. What I’m about to tell you has to
stay between us. Do you understand me?”
“Deal D. Besides best friends don’t
tell each other’s secrets, right?”
I know I’m sounding like a complete
girl, but Deandra was different. Hanging
and talking with her felt like she was a
guy. She wasn't too girly or a tomboy.
She’s a balance of both. She dressed and
spoke like a girl, but loved sports like most
guys and could give them a run for their
money by talking about team standings. I
liked watching sports, but even I didn’t
know half of what she does.
“So I’m bisexual. I like girls and boys,
but I prefer to be with chicks.”
I must have had a comical look
plastered to my face, because her serious
one broke into a series of giggles that just
wouldn’t stop. She was laughing so hard
that she turned red and started crying.
“That wasn’t what I was expecting,
but that’s…awesome. I was thinking we
needed to talk about the same thing after
all the rumors being spread around school.
I’m glad you trust me enough to tell me
that.”
I was. If she could trust me with her
secret, then I thought maybe I could trust
her with mine.