Pulse of Heroes (6 page)

Thanksgiving weekend ended much too quickly
in Michelle's opinion. Toby and his girlfriend left Saturday
evening, and by Sunday she was back in her school mode. She used
most of the day to go over the Italian lesson she had missed in
class the week before, and felt that perhaps she was starting to
get a grasp on the subject. She also had an essay to finish in
history, and a journal to complete for chemistry class.

December felt like it always did. Everything
seemed unreal during the 12th month of the year. It's like the
whole world took a mental vacation, even though everybody was still
in school and everybody was still working. Michelle always found it
humorous that it felt like nobody dared to breathe until Christmas
was over, and only then could one exhale with relief, as if they'd
finished some huge accomplishment when in fact the whole thing was
about shopping for 2½ weeks, making a rerun of Thanksgiving dinner,
and visiting with the relatives for a few hours. But then again,
perhaps she was a cynic because her birthday was in late January,
and January always felt like it had nothing on December. At least
February had Valentine's Day.

Winter formal was set to take place on
Saturday, December 19th. Michelle was feeling particularly down,
and there were many reasons for that. Firstly, she'd never been to
a formal, and that had always made her feel left out and anomalous.
Secondly, Samantha had started dating this guy James, and had way
less time to spend with her. Thirdly, studying for class midterms
was taking her paramount timeslots, and fourthly but not least, for
the first time her brother would not be spending Christmas with the
family, but was going to his girlfriend's family celebration
somewhere in upstate New York instead. Of course the fact that it
was cold and gray and the sun only peeked out for a few hours
during the daytime didn't help matters at all.

Michelle’s father told them that the whole
family was invited to a large holiday party where they would get to
mingle with the mayor and other important people. Great, she
thought. She’d have to pretend to be the perfect daughter of the
Town Councilman. And of course they will all ask her about school
and how she's doing, and if they really knew the truth she would
embarrass her entire family. What was she supposed to tell them,
that she's doing great and she's an honor roll student. The town
was too small; everybody knew everybody, and everyone had children
that went to the same school. With the way her luck has been
lately, somebody from Italian class would be there and just pass
along the fact that she has not been a regular attendee. She would
have to come clean and tell her mother the truth. She was flunking
Italian.

To take advantage of every minute within the
day, Michelle started taking her dinner upstairs in her bedroom.
She cocooned herself in the room and studied from the moment she
got home from school until her brain just couldn't take it anymore.
She was doing pretty well in all the other classes, and was aiming
for all A’s as a way to soften the blow about failing the other.
She was relieved when she read the schedule and found out that her
Italian midterm wasn't scheduled until Friday, because she could
definitely use all the extra cramming time. Maybe she could at
least pass the test and not have to repeat the entire class. D or
D- was still better than an F.

Michelle plowed through her exams, military
style, seeing every test as a small battle in a bigger war. By
Wednesday she was done with all the other classes and moved all of
her attention and focus to Italian. She almost completely forgot
that she had yet to be asked to the winter formal; that was until
Samantha dropped by to show her the dress she had purchased. It was
a beautiful blue gown that was layered with the thinnest and
lightest fabric that Michelle had ever seen or touched. When
Samantha put it on, she looked radiant and it flowed around her
like water. Only then did Michelle feel the pang of jealousy. She
swallowed hard and mustered her biggest approving smile.

“You look absolutely beautiful Samantha. I
think that dress was made for you.”

Samantha twirled around in front of the
mirror, watching the fabric flutter from the movement of the air
beneath it. Michelle was entranced by the different hues of blue.
There was azure blue, and cornflower blue mixed with some aqua.
Suddenly Michelle had a déjà vu; it was a split second flash of the
strange dream she had experienced. The blue of Samantha’s dress
somehow transformed into the image of the sea that Michelle had
waded into, but then, just as the image formed and she could
recognize it, it was gone. Michelle gasped, and it must have been
loud enough because when she looked up, Samantha was staring right
back at her in confusion.

“Oh my gosh Michelle. I’m sorry. I didn’t
even think before running here and showing off my dress.” Samantha
walked over and sat down on the bed next to Michelle. “I didn’t
mean to hurt your feelings.” Samantha was pleading forgiveness with
her eyes. Only then did Michelle understand that she must have
looked miserable to have Samantha respond like that.

“I’m fine, I just had the weirdest déjà vu. I
totally remembered this dream I had almost two months ago.”

Samantha didn’t look convinced. “I don’t
know,” she said. “I still think I was being selfish.”

By the time Samantha left, Michelle did feel
depressed about the formal. She wished she could just fall asleep
and wake up after it was all over. The self-doubting feelings about
who she was, what she looked like, and would anyone ever really
like her, let alone love her, floated in and out of her thoughts,
disturbing any concentration she had previously. She thought about
Tim, even though she didn’t really fancy him all that much. Was he
even thinking about her anymore, she wondered? She definitely used
to have a huge crush on him, but those thrilling emotions and
sensations like feeling her face warm up every time he talked to
her, or her heart beating so fast and hard if he just walked past
her, had begun to wane. Eventually they completely vanished, and
yet she found that she missed them more than she actually missed
him.

When it came to boys, Michelle always felt
like she was two steps behind everyone else. These feelings had
accompanied her even as far back as the third grade. While other
girls were placing love notes inside boys’ school desks or lunch
boxes, Michelle wondered what the buzz was all about. Her mom would
describe her to family members as a late bloomer. She always hated
that label, because it sounded so negative to be late in anything.
Back then, when relatives would ask her if she had a boyfriend, her
mother would always answer, “Oh no, Michelle is a good girl.”
Michelle didn’t understand. What did being good have to do with
having a boyfriend? After all, if somebody has a boyfriend it must
mean that they like them, and being liked is a good thing. The
whole thing puzzled her so much that she decided to just ignore it.
That was until she developed indescribable feelings for a boy,
Mark, in eighth grade.

Mark eventually asked Michelle to be his
girlfriend, and they were known as an item throughout the school.
Basically, they held hands during recess, called one another after
school, and once he actually joined her family for a campout. But
she grew tired of the situation very quickly, and the ‘going out’
business didn't make too much sense to her because they weren't
‘going’ anywhere. The magic was gone, just like that, although the
fact that he tried to force his tongue down her throat didn't help
matters either. Freshman year was completely boring, and sophomore
year was when she first developed real feelings for Tim. Those
feelings got worse and worse, because he was dating Bethany and the
two of them looked to be madly in love. Michelle would brood over
him in her journal and to her friends, complaining and trying to
figure out why it was that he didn't even notice her. She compared
herself to Bethany, who was perfect in her book. Bethany was tall,
lean, just the right profile, and had the most beautiful wavy blond
hair that bounced down her shoulders when she walked. Michelle
would often look at herself in the mirror and feel depressed
because she and Bethany had nothing in common physically. She just
didn't measure up. However, towards the end of sophomore year Tim
began to acknowledge her. At first it was a few smiles, then she
would catch him looking at her, and eventually he found a way to
talk to her through her friendship with Rachael and Anna. Michelle
always wondered if Rachael and Anna became friendly to her on Tim’s
request, because before that they had never really interacted.
Whatever the case, she was smitten. When Tim and Bethany broke up
around the beginning of the school year, Michelle felt that she
would get her chance at last. But there she was, alone, sitting on
her bed surrounded by books and papers, with winter formal only two
days away.

It was past midnight when Michelle finally
went to bed. Her dinner was left untouched and she had a terrible
headache. Her mom gave her a Tylenol, and told her it was most
likely due to her studying for so long without eating. But Michelle
had no appetite, and she attributed that to her feeling sorry for
herself over the stupid formal. The next day she felt just as bad,
and she wondered if it could be some sort of a psychological thing,
maybe stress or midterm anxiety.

Michelle eventually worked up the nerve to
tell her mom about Italian class. She was ashamed, and her voice
quivered when she told her about the cutting. Her mother was
shocked. She reacted just as Michelle thought she would. She yelled
at her for the cutting, asking her over and over again if that's
the way she had raised her to deal with problems, “To run away from
them, to lie and break school rules?” She was ashamed of her, and
that was what really hurt Michelle on the inside. She had
disappointed her mom and she had disappointed herself. She did
something that she never thought she would ever do. What was
happening to her? Michelle begged for her mom not to tell her dad,
but her mom told her that she had no authority nor privilege to ask
for anything of the sort. The matter was far too important not to
be discussed with her father.

When her father heard what she had done, he
looked at her as if he didn’t know his own child. “Why didn’t you
ask for help if you were falling behind,” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Michelle said, unable to look
him in the face. Her parents looked desperate. What were they
supposed to do? This was more complex than just their youngest
child breaking rules. It was about their daughter who had never had
any problems sharing things with them. What had changed? No one
seemed to have the answer for that, not even Michelle.

Michelle was back in her room. It was raining
hard outside, and she wondered if this sky was crying with her as
her tears stung her flushed cheeks. What was wrong with her she
thought? She’s growing up to be a rotten individual, and she didn’t
even know why. She eventually settled back into her studying,
cramming as much Italian grammar into her head as she possibly
could. She heard a quiet knock on the door, and watched her mom
step into the room closing the door behind her. It must have been
pretty late because her mom was already in her nightgown. “What
time is it?” Michelle asked. It was 11:40 PM. Her mother sat on the
bed next to her and just looked at her with an expression somewhere
between pity and inquiry. She then put her hand to Michelle’s
forehead. Michelle felt so little when she did that.

“You’re a bit warm,” her mother said.

Michelle was feeling as if a flush hung on
her entire body, but she often felt that after she cried. “Mom,”
she said, “I think I was too embarrassed to tell you, and I don’t
even know why.”

“Does this have to do with your father being
on the Town Council?”

Bingo! It hit Michelle like a runaway train.
How did her mom know before she even knew? Since her dad had taken
office, Michelle felt like she was on display. People who didn’t
know her talked to her, and asked her about her family as if they
knew them. She felt that if she wasn’t the perfect daughter of the
perfect town councilman, that somehow she wasn’t holding up her
part, and that she would ruin it for her father, ruin it for all of
them. And so she kept her failings away from them, so as to not
tarnish the family image.

“I’m so sorry Mom.” Michelle let out a huge
cry and the tears and crying came out like they did when she was
little, before she could control them. Her mom stroked her hair as
Michelle laid her head on her lap. She wasn’t all grown up like she
thought she was.

Michelle woke up, and from the darkness in
her room and the visible section of hallway she could see under her
door, she guessed that it must be the middle of the night. She had
been having a nightmare, but she couldn’t remember what it was. She
realized that she was freezing cold, and that her t-shirt and
pajama pants were soaking wet. She was shivering. Michelle called
out to her mother, who showed up within a millisecond to be by her
side. Her mom switched on the light on the nightstand and surveyed
Michelle’s condition with horror. Michelle was completely soaked in
sweat and her hair was limply arranged in clumps around her face.
Her mom checked her temperature and shook her head at the result,
102 degrees.

“We’ve got to get you to the doctor
tomorrow.”

Michelle immediately protested, “I can’t.
It’s my last midterm tomorrow, remember?”

Her mom looked at her and smiled, “Sweetie,
there are some things that are more important to me than you
speaking Italian.”