No Name [whole story]

No Name1


My name is not important. 2

I have friends who don't know my name like you don't know mine. My parents don't even know my name. How do I know this? They don't talk to me. Ever. I've come to the conclusion that this is because they've forgotten who I am, so therefore, they cannot speak to me for fear of bearing the cross as a bad parent for forgetting their own child's name. 3

My name is classified information betwixt me and my teachers. Years of skipping the first day of school and not bothering to tell the teacher just who I am or raising my hand in class. If I ever do participate in class, the teacher calls me by my most popular name: You. This name can often be confused with other people, though, so it's not my favourite. 4

My "friends" call me "Fonzie". You know, like Arthur Fonzarelli from Happy Days. Christ if you don't know who that is, you probably live under a rock. Anyway, they've developed this nickname partially because I've never told them my real name and partially because I always wear a leather jacket. Plus, I like to give the thumbs-up a lot. Don't ask me why. Even if I knew the answer, I probably wouldn't tell you.5

Some people think that I've forgotten my own name. This isn't true at all. I just don't want people to know this because everyone knows too much about me already. Well, anyone who went to Sherwood Intermediate School knows anyway. I don't like to think about it or talk about it. It makes me feel icky. Exposure like that isn't something someone so young should be subjected to, and it wasn't my fault no matter how much I like to tell myself that. That's what my shrink will tell you anyway. 6

I shouldn't call her that. She's actually a nice lady. Her real name is Dr. Lenning, but I call her Molly because she reminds me of Molly Ringwald from The Breakfast Club. She has the same pale skin, red hair, and pouty lips. In the right light, she looks kind of sexy, but I would never tell her that. I haven't even told her my name.7

After all, my name is not important.8

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Sometimes this is what I do: I make up stories about people I don't know or talk to. I give them names that I want them to have even if I know what their real names are. I make up stories that go along with what I think they're feeling. I do this most in Geometry class where no one knows me. I don't think they notice I'm there because I sit all the way in the back corner and I don't talk. I never answer questions. I think the teacher forgets I'm there because every now and again, he'll forget to give me a test or check my homework. Of course, I don't say anything. I don't want to disturb the peace. Still, my report card shows a perfect student, so I'm not going to start complaining now. 11

Anyway, back to story-making... Today, a girl walks in with jet black, wavy hair. This isn't the first thing I notice about her though. The first thing I notice is that she has a perfect nose, and the reason I notice this first is because that's a rare thing to find. Also, my nose looks like what Hiroshima or Nagisaki must've looked like after the bombs were dropped. So this girl hands a pass to Mr. Jarron- the Geometry teacher- and he points for her to sit down in the back. Next to me. I think this is strange because of two things: A) she's obviously a new student and there were no introductions and, she's been assigned to sit next to me when there are nine other open seats scattered across the room. I keep staring at her and her perfect nose and black, wavy hair. She probably hates that wavy hair like most girls do. That's why they always run around with fake-straight hair. I guess some guys think it's sexy or something. Not me, man. No way. I like a natural woman. But who shaves. So I guess not all natural. 12

So I'm staring at this girl and I'm thinking, I've gotta name her. Ava's too elegant. Celine's a little warmer, only I can't name her that because of Celine Dion. I decide on Liv because it reminds me of Liv Tyler who is absolutely gorgeous, in my opinion. I've gotta make a story... I decide that Liv moved here- New Jersey- from Arizona because her father's in jail for murder and they think her mother was an accomplice. So her mother got scared that the police would arrest her as well, and they packed up all their things and moved to Jersey. It's a pretty good story, I think. I decide to think of another one, but before I can even think of another one, Liv is crying. Not, like, hysterical tears that attract attention. These tears are for me because only I can see them. 13

At the end of class, she glances over, and she sees me too. Only she really sees me.14

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This is the kind of material that Molly lives for, I think. It's the reason she became a shrink. Excuse me, a "therapist". 17

"How did you feel when she looked at you?" she asks me. This would be a stupid question if I knew how to answer it right. That's the trouble with therapy: there aren't any right answers. 18

"I don't know... I guess it was like what happened in middle school."19

"Would you like to talk about what happened in middle school?"20

"No. So, how's Jerry?" I ask. Jerry is Molly's husband. He's a funny kind of guy, and no I didn't nickname him after Jerry Seinfeld- although that'd be absolutely perfect. 21

Nah, Jerry Lenning is the kind of guy you meet in college your freshman year who you party with instead of studying for the test your life depends on. He was the idea behind Animal House. 22

"Jerry's good actually. Getting better. The doctors say that one more chemotherapy treatment and it should have the cancer dormant for a while... they hope..." Molly's eyes glass over. Wow I'm an idiot. I can't believe I just changed the subject from my trauma to hers just to get out of talking about middle school. 23

"I'm sorry," I say, feeling more guilty than ever. What a dousche I am. "He'll get better, I think. It doesn't last forever for some people. My grampa had it for ten years and he fought it off. I mean, he's dead now, but he died because he got excited at a picnic and ate a blueberry which he's highly allergic to." My insane babbling skills always pay off to make Molly smile when she's thinking about her husband and his leukemia. 24

"Thanks, Fonzie. I hope he gets better too. I'm sorry, but our time is up. I'll see you again on Friday," Molly closes. I hate when this time comes. Partially because she gets that business voice on like I'm any other patient when she knows I'm much more than that, and partially because I have to go home after this. Home isn't good like they want you to believe. At least not where mine is. 25

"Friday. Right. Four days. See ya, Molly," I leave, handing her the check for sixty five dollars. Sixty five dollars out of my pay check. Not my parents'. 26

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I work at the bookstore on the corner of Main Street. It's called Corner Books. Clever, huh? I thought so, too. It's fun working there to see all the Mods, Goths, Punks, and Phonies come in after they've just had their sugared up, triple creamed, watered down mocha-lattes at the one place on Earth you'd find on a desert island: Starbucks. I take pleasure in watching these people because it gives me time to come up with stories and names. Sometimes it's too much and I get a headache, so I always keep my dear friend Advil close by. 29

My boss works the same shifts I do. He's pretty cool- or as the Fakes say in here, "chill". He's gay, which would bother most guys, but I just find it more interesting. He gives great advice for girls too which I never use. Still, it's golden information that I could put to use. That I plan to put to use... 30

His name is Paul. I don't have a nickname for him, yet. Everyday he reminds me of a different person, so it's hard to place a name on him. I'm thinking about naming him Ruby after that song Ruby Tuesday by The Rolling Stones. It's about a girl who "changes with every new day". It would fit, too, 'cause he's gay and all and it's a girl's name. 31

I'm walking home from Molly's, thinking about how I'd rather be headed to work than where I'm headed. Isn't that a pity? Who in hell would rather go to work than home? I guess that old saying "home is where the heart is" doesn't really work that way. Unless they meant that wherever your heart lies, that's home to you. But if they meant it in the literal, Nazi sense, kind of ordering you to believe that your home is warm and welcoming, then no. Home is not where the heart is. 32

In fact, home is where your father lies passed out drunk on the couch, or if he's not doing that, he's working on it. Home is where your mother sits at the kitchen table, chain smoking and staring out the window thinking, Why am I here? Sometimes, I imagine coming home to her dead because I think she's suicidal. Either that, or I won't come home to her at all because she left. Just dear ol' dad. Drunk as ever. 33

Nice family, n'est pas? 34

My parents are more like mannequins than people. They are always in the same spot. They never talk. They don't even eat or go to the freaking bathroom. I mean, seriously, how long can someone go without relieving themselves before they explode? So far, my parents have a record of five years. Five years ago, that's when I was in Sherwood Intermediate School. 35

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Five years ago, a boy named Tommy Bakowski told another boy to pull down his pants or he'd tell the principal he threatened to kill Tommy. 38

Five years ago, a boy named Tommy Bakowski took pictures of this boy's naked lower half and showed them around. To everyone. 39

Five years ago, a boy named Tommy Bakowski exposed the boy whose name was more popular than Brittany Spears, and that exposed boy tried to kill himself.40

At school. 41

In front of everyone.42

He almost succeeded. 43

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I take French 1 even though I'm in my junior year of high school and most people have that over with by now. In this class, I have three friends: Ashton, Maya, and Phil. Ashton's real name is Kris, but he reminds me of Ashton Kutcher the way he always goofs around and tells jokes that are only kind of funny. Sometimes. Maya's real name is Catherine, but she makes me think of Saturday Night Live's Maya Rudolph because she makes her face contort into these odd fashions and she's extremely funny. Phil is Harry, but he's always trying to get into your mind and search for the deeper meaning of things that can't get much deeper than you just felt like coughing at the moment. So, I call him Dr. Phil. These three people make French class more interesting. Like everyone else, they call me Fonzie, even though Ashton was there in seventh grade and he totally knows what happened. 46

When I go to French today, the first thing I notice is one perfect-nosed and wavy-haired girl sitting in the seat next to mine. What the hell is going on? You know what? No. I don't want to know. 47

I sit down at my seat with Liv right next to me. And I mean right next to me. The classroom is so small that all the desks are basically on top of each other. I'm feeling kind of claustrophobic being so close to her. She really is something to look at though, so I guess I'm not feeling too claustrophobic. Besides, Ashton, Maya, and Phil walk in simultaneously and at the same time like something out of a comic book. In my mind, they're all striking poses, getting ready to fight crime and take down Madame Reeves. In actuality, they nosily take their seats and Ashton yells, "Hey Fonzie! Did you hear the one about the two peanuts?" I can already tell that this will end in some kind of sexual innuendo, so I pass and tell him I have heard it and do not wish to hear it again, thankyouverymuch. Phil is probably thinking about asking me how the joke made me feel when I first heard it, but it's too late for him to open his mouth and let it out because the bell rings and Madame Reeves starts on her spiel of French-ness. 48

I'm already day-dreaming. I never pay attention in this class because I don't have to. The teacher refuses to call me Fonzie like everyone knows me as, so she just avoids calling on me. What I do is I read up on French at home or at work on my break because there's nothing else to do, so I'm passing the class. It's that easy when you're invisible and unknown. 49

Anyway, I'm finding out that I can't keep my gaze off of Liv. I'll look around the room at the painted characters on the wall of Obelix and Asterix- the two most popular characters of some French comic in le newspaper that I don't care about. I stare at the posters of La tour Eiffel and la cathedrale de Notre-Dame and l'Arc de Triomphe. Anything to keep my eyes off of Liv. But I can't. You'd think that these places and buildings and friggin' cartoon characters that people around the world care so much about would interest me just enough to keep my eyes off this girl, but you're wrong if you think that. I decide to make up another story since I can't help but look at her. 50

Liv was crying the other day because she misses her boyfriend back in Arizona, but she got a text message from him during class saying that he didn't want to go out with her anymore since she was so far away [even though he promised her that he'd visit her as soon as he got the chance and that they'd be "2gthr 4evr"]. I think that's probably a valid reason for her tears. Her tears that she shed for me to see only. Did she know I was staring at her in class yesterday? 51

New story.52

Liv was crying yesterday because she has PPD [Paranoid Personality Disorder] and she thought I was staring at her because I was going to start stalking her. So, she started to panic, thinking also that if I was planning to stalk her, I would also rape her or kill her or steal her favourite teddy bear or something. This made her so afraid that she started to cry. She wanted me to see this because she thought that I'd leave her alone if I saw her tears. Again, this is an extremely logical story. Highly believable. 53

God she's perfect. I've only seen her twice and I just want to bury my face in her hair and stare at her perfect nose all day. She's so tiny, too, and her eyes are so piercingly blue. She's pale as ever and she wears jeans and a black T-shirt, but it might as well be an evening gown on her. Honestly, if you saw this girl, you wouldn't want to just jump her. You'd want to hold her and gloat that she's your real, live, actual girlfriend. Not that blow-up doll you've got hidden in your closet at home. 54

I realise I've been staring at her for nearly twenty minutes now. She turns around and looks at me. The look turns into a stare, and I can't tell myself to look away. I don't smile, though, either, and neither does she. We're just looking at each other. I think my invisibility feeds upon people who look at or talk to me because Madame Reeves says nothing about our staring contest we've got going on here. Even if she did notice, it'd be too late to say anything because that damned bell separates us. 55

She makes me feel exposed. 56

She makes me feel naked and like a stalker. 57

She makes me feel visible.58

And I like it. 59

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"I thought you didn't like being noticed...?" This is Molly's reaction to my Liv-attention-fetish on Friday when I'm back in her office. 62

"I don't. Not by other people. It's different with her for some reason. I don't even know her. Christ, this is so annoying," I ramble to Molly. I like rambling to Molly, even if it's about nothing- which it very rarely is in here- because unlike everyone else, Molly listens to you. I mean, duh, that's her job, but there's something different about the way she does it. I wonder if it's just me, or if it's like this with all her patients... 63

"What about her makes her different from everyone else?"64

This is the part I hate about therapy. There are many pros and cons to this gig, but I haven't gathered them all up yet. But I hate when questions are asked that I can't answer easily. I really have to search inside of myself to get the answer, but sometimes I just don't want to do that. Sometimes, I don't like myself enough to find the answer. I guess the point of therapy is to always like yourself enough to find the answer. For me, anyway. 65

"I don't know, Molly. I barely know the girl. But when she looks at me it's like..."- Come on! You can do it Fonz. Find that answer!- "... like when you come inside from a cold, rainy day and put on fresh, warm clothes. I'm afraid of ever hearing her voice because if just her eyes can make me feel that way, then what the fuck is hearing her speak gunna do to me, huh? I barely know this girl. Has anyone ever made you feel that way?" I ask Molly. Molly smiles faintly before nodding. 66

"I think there is someone for everyone out there who can do that to another person. Maybe Liv is this person for you," Molly suggests. Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold up, now. I just said, like, five times to this chick that I barely know Liv. She can't be "the person for me" already. Molly, you're crazy. 67

"I don't know about that," I say. 68

"You never know..."69

"I don't wanna talk about this anymore. This is too confusing." I always do this. I think I really want to talk about something until Molly starts asking all these philisophical questions and making everything something it just freaking isn't. 70

"Okay. What do you want to talk about?" she asks. 71

"Nothing." Nope, not one thing. I don't want to talk about how she makes me feel inside when those two blue diamonds for eyes bore into me. I don't want to talk about the way I imagine her wavy black hair as an endless waterfall. I don't want to talk about anything.72

Silence. 73

Molly scribbles something on her notepad. I always wonder what she's writing about me. What would I write about myself? 74

"Fonzie?"75

"Yeah?"76

"What's your real name?" 77

This poor chick. Every so often she'll ask me this. And everytime I say: 78

"Not this time, Molly. I'll catch ya later." 79

"Well, our session is over for today. I want you to try talking to Liv. Find out a little more about her before you make yourself go crazy with this. I'll see you again on Monday," she says. I nod and hand her her check. Normal kids could be paying for a new iPod or a car or a movie ticket. Not me, man. This garcon is paying for therapy sessions.80

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I'm a little happier after this session because I'm going to work now. I decide to test out my new nickname for my boss. See how he likes it. 83

"Hey Ruby," I say when I see Paul. He smiles. 84

"Hey, kiddo. That my new nickname?" His enthusiasm about everything is hilarious. 85

"Yeah. You know, after the Rolling Stones song? You're always changin'. It's perfect!"86

"Oh my gosh! I love it! You're so clever. Still, I was majorly a fan of Madonna last Tuesday. It made me feel like a goddess!" Ruby strikes a pose. I shake my head and laugh as I put on my work apron. I don't know why we wear these. We don't work at a bakery, we work at a book store. What's with the aprons? I guess it's to show that we work there. Still, couldn't we wear pins or visors or... something that doesn't start with "A" and end with "N"? Sometimes I'm jealous of the Goths and Punks. They all work at Hot Topic and they don't have to wear any uniforms. They just have to dress the way they normally do: decked out in metal-wear in strange places, chains hanging everywhere, more black on than a ninja, crazy dyed hair. I applied there but I didn't get the job. I'm convinced it's because the only black thing I wear is my leather jacket and I don't have any piercings. They claimed that it was because I wasn't seventeen. But that's bullshit because Maya works there and she's fifteen. 87

I love my job here at Corner Books, though. I love to read and write. But I very rarely write anything outside of school. Maybe I should start writing about the stories I make up about people... Maybe I should write about what happened in middle school. Isn't that what people do nowadays? When something traumatic happens to them, they just write a book and BOOM! They're on Oprah or Dr. Phil or Goodmorning America. Everyone's such an attention hog. All of them, fighting for the spotlight. I wonder if any of them ever make it there. I think if they do, they burn from the intensity of that light, and all that's left of them then is the memory of some bitch who couldn't wait for her next fifteen seconds of fame. 88

Oh great. I'm thinking about Liv again. I let out an audible sigh that attracts enough attention that Ruby has to ask, "What's up big guy?" Since I confide in two people- Ruby and Molly- I decide to tell him about Liv. 89

"Seems to me like this chick is eatin' at your brain big guy. Maybe you should write her a note or something."90

"A note? Are you crazy? How lame is that!" 91

"Geez, will you chill? I'm just saying... girls like it when guys pay attention to them. Make her feel special. Write her a poem or something. That's soOo romantic. She'll melt for you, I swear it," he tells me. I mull it over. Sounds pretty cool to me, I guess. I mean, it couldn't hurt... 92

"Why do you give such great girl advice?"93

"Because I play for their team, but I wear a disguise." Ruby winks at me. I just smile. He's so weird in the best way possible. 94

"I'd figure that a guy like you would be taken already," I say and then add, "I mean that in the straightest way possible." 95

"Awe, you're cute. And I don't mean that straight at all." I laugh and so does he. "Nah, I don't know, bud. I mean, I haven't had the best of luck with this whole thing"- Ruby gestures towards... everything- "since Albert left me. Love sucks." He sighs, remembering his Albert. I sigh, thinking about my Liv. Pfft. My Liv. I don't even know her. So why do I keep thinking about her? I decide to stock the shelves even though they all look pretty full. It'll keep me distracted. Besides, I can read the back of all the books and count how many times an author steals another author's story. 96

As I'm stocking the already-stocked shelves, I think about Ruby. He's only twenty-seven and he owns his own book store and has been through a lot. I mean, it's got to be hard being gay, even though it shouldn't be. I mean, why does it matter so much who someone loves? If it's love, that's a good thing. He and Albert were so in love. Well, from what I saw anyway. And even though they were in love, they couldn't get married because it's the law here in good ol' New Jersey. I really felt bad for them because even though they knew it in their hearts that they were in love, they couldn't make it official. That's the problem with society. Everyone's too worried about who's marrying who and who does what in the privacy of their own home that they've all forgotten that we're in a war and there are bigger things to be concerned about. 97

Albert didn't leave Ruby because of the law, though, if that's what you were thinking. Things started to fall apart from what I saw. Ruby was busy with work and Albert started to see other people behind his back. I thought that was real shitty. If you fall out of love with someone, you have to just say it. You can't be sneaky about it because any chance you had at still being in each other's life is shattered after you do a thing like that. I'd never do that. 98

I'm thinking about all this while I'm putting away romance novels, and it's weird because not once during this does the "L" word enter my mind. Well, now she has. What I'd give to see a wavy-haired girl walk through the door to this little book store downtown... 99

If this was a movie, she'd totally walk in. Ah, Liv. The leading role in my life, and I don't even know her.100

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Needless to say, Liv did not make her lovely appearance at the book store downtown. But everytime the bell rang to the entrance, I couldn't help but dart my head to that direction. And everytime I saw a head of black hair- which is the only head of hair you'll find in this place, especially on a Friday evening- my heart couldn't help but drop to my stomach. I hate this whole stupid thing. If this situation was a physical object, I'd make it drink its own urine. Is that too graphic for you? Too bad. 103

I'm probably brooding over the fact that I came home once again to my drunken father and my suicidal/runaway mother more than the fact that I didn't see Liv- which I totally, one hundred and fifty seven point two percent wasn't expecting to happen anyway. I guess I'm more upset that they're always doing the same thing than that they're just godawful parents. I mean, if I came home and my mom was sitting in a new chair, that would make me less angry because at least I'd know she's alive and capable of moving. And maybe if my dad switched his drink all of a sudden, that'd make me happier too. It's the little things. 104

I grab some ingredients and start making myself dinner. I do this every Friday night and every night over the weekend: I make myself a good meal. Every other night I eat out or I don't eat at all. I think this is classified as neglect since my parents don't support me or supply me with anything anymore, but I'm not going to tell anyone. What's the point? It's not going to make anything better. 105

Anyway, I'm really good at making dinner now. It was rough learning in the beginning. And when my mom was still mobile, she helped me out a little bit by shouting at me when I did something wrong. A couple of months of this and I knew how to make a decent dish of pasta and chicken. Steak and vegetables. Food and more food. You know, all the edibles. My mom's the best cooking dictator this world has ever seen. It's easy to cook for yourself, though. I don't have to worry about anyone else because my parents don't eat. Which now, when I think about it, it makes sense that they don't defecate. 106

As I'm stirring this and that in a pot, I'm looking at my mom. She looks like one of those zombies from Sean of the Dead. Only the kind that were in the beginning more because the ones at the end were all angry and stuff. Nah, my mom is just... out there. I used to cry and worry about it, but now it's just second nature. It's like a math equation: Me + other people = living; mom + kitchen chair = living dead. See how that works out? 107

Just nod... 108

After dinner, I go to my room and blast the most obnoxious metal music this world has to offer. It doesn't matter because my parents don't care. Ah, the perks of being ignored. I'm listening to my music and staring up at the ceiling of my bedroom. My bed is so comfy. It's like... The Big Comfy Couch but in bed form. And without that creepy doll or her girl. And vice versa. Before I know it, I'm sleeping and guess who comes to visit me, even in my sleep. 109

If you guessed William Shatner, you're wrong. 110

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She says nothing to me. This shows that I can't even imagine her voice. She just stares at me the way she did earlier in the week. Silent. Beautiful. God, how I want her. She won't even leave me alone in sleep. That's really not fair when you think about it. I mean, I have no authority like that in her life. She probably thinks my nose is atrocious and I need to gain weight. No way could a girl like that like me. 113

In my dream, she's smiling now. Right up close with me, smiling in my face, and it's good. It's wonderful. And I'd reach out to touch her only I know this is a dream, and I wouldn't feel anything. Either that or I'd wake up. I don't want to ruin the moment, so we just stand there. She kind of looks idiotic now. Just smiling like there's nothing wrong with the world. Not even a little bit. 114

And through all of this glamour and all of this glorious dream splendour, what am I thinking about? This girl- though a dream- standing so close to me, smiling up at me as if I am God's gift to this earth. What am I thinking? 115

I hope my breath smells alright... 116

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The next day at work, Ruby is laughing at me and my dream. 119

"Oh man, big guy. You got it somethin' bad. What'd you say her name was again?" 120

"I don't know her real name, but I call her Liv," I tell him for the third or fourth time today. It's okay though. Repeating myself isn't a nuisance with Ruby because I'm used to having to do it. I used to think that that went with being gay until I met Albert and I learned that Ruby was just a little slow. Not actually of course, but in that mean-spirited joking sense that everyone finds terrible and funny at the same time. 121

"Right right. Well, bud, I think you should find out this girlie's real name. Then you'll have something to work with." Ruby winks and then says something about taking inventory as he walks towards the back of the store. I decide to busy myself with making sure everything's on the shelves that needs to be- even though I semi-did this last night. When I'm nice and bored, I buy myself a notebook from one of the shelves and start writing about this dork who falls in love with one of his comic book characters, only she ends up coming to life. It's a pretty good story I get going, but then the afternoon rush comes from all the little cafe dwellers of the morning. 122

These are my people. 123

It's sad that I can't go a whole five minutes without thinking that maybe that black-haired girl is Liv or maybe that bell was signalling Liv's entrance- or exit and I missed her. Why is she making me go so crazy? Am I crazy? Of course you are! Your best friends are your boss and your shrink. The inner-me always knows how to put things in perspective...124

After a while, I start pretending I don't care if she comes or not. I mean, she definitely isn't coming. Totally. Not even a little bit concerned with her arrival. That's what I tell myself anyway. So, in order to complete my uncaring-ness towards her presense at my job site- which is what I call it to sound more exciting- I write after every customer needs my help or checks out. 125

Gerald's astonishment as the beautiful lady in spandex emerged from the pages left on his desk was indescribable. He wanted so badly for this to be real and not another one of his dork dreams. His desperation for some kind of companionship was unbearable. Living alone for the past ten years of his after-college "career" was terribly distressing. He couldn't deal with this any longer. And as he saw this immaculet woman rise from the pages of the comic book he created, he knew his troubles would be-126

"Hey do you work here?" a voice speaks to me. I don't look up. My pen hovers over the last word I've written. 127

"Yup..." I vaguely answer. I'm such a dick when it comes to being interrupted when I'm writing. But I should really pay attention to this customer. 128

"Well, can I get some help looking for a book then?" The impatience is growing in her voice and I know I should look up now, so I do. It's this Phoney Goth. They're the worst kind. They think they're all badass just because they learned about the magic of demi-permanent hair dye and tight black clothing. They have major attitude. All the stories I create for them end with some kind of tragic death or worse. Yes. Worse. 129

My attention is drawn to her however when I see that Liv is standing right beside her. She's not looking at me. It almost looks like she's avoiding me. 130

"uhh... What can I help you with?" I re-gain my work ethic. 131

"I'm looking for Romeo and Juliet," she tells me. She says this with that kind of mocking voice that says, "I bet you've never thought of reading that. I'm oh so intelligent. Bask in my brilliance." I just scoff a little and cover it with a cough. Fake Goth is a little annoyed at this but as I say, "Right this way," I can almost swear I caught a smile out of Liv... 132

"Here you are," I hand Fake Goth the book. If you're wondering why I haven't given her a name it's because she honestly doesn't deserve one. Some people are deserving of my clever, witty, brilliant names and other people can just suck a hole. She grabs the book with vehemence- like They all do- and she lumbers off to the register in her combat boots- another LOOK AT ME item. 133

AHEM!!! Fake Goth yells a cleared throat across the room in my direction. She starts tap tap tapping that enormous boot of hers and for a second I worry about how her toes might break from lifting such a heavy object. Then I realise, I couldn't care less. 134

I ring up Gorilla Boots's total, "That'll be $7.37." I tell this to Liv, though, but like before, she just isn't looking at me. I think it's intentional. I mean, she hasn't looked my way once and the other day, she was eye-raping me. I bet she thought of me naked. Do girls do that? Or is that just a guy thing? 135

"Hello!" Fake Goth waves a ten in my face. I gently take it out of her hands and put it in the cash register and give her her change of $2.63. Just for my own satisfaction, I give her $2.53. Sure it's only a dime's difference, but for me, it's satisfying. I smile at her and say, "Have a wonderful day." She just glares at me and turns promptly on her heel. 136

"C'mon, let's get out of here," she grabs Liv roughly. I want to strangle her after that. As they're walking out of the store though, Liv tosses me one of her deep looks and I know she did it all on purpose. It's just one of those feelings. 137

-over, I finish writing. 138

139

140

"Damn. That's one of our worst customers. I see her almost every friggin' day during the week. She's a nightmare!" Ruby props his elbow up on the counter, resting his head in his hands, and watching the doorway as Fake Goth leaves. I'm still staring at the door even though she's gone.141

"Yeah but did you see the girl next to her?!" I almost shout. Hey, that's not obvious obsession or anything. Everyone becomes ecstatic over people they don't know. 142

I'm not crazy.143

"Nope. I didn't catch a glimpse of her, big guy. Why? Was she spicy?" Ruby licks a finger and places it on his ass making that "ssssssstt" noise. 144

"It was Liv..." I say way too dreamily for a guy to get away with and still claim he has nuts. Still, I add a corny sigh after saying this. 145

Yeah, I'm crazy. 146

"No way! And I missed her?! This blows..." Ruby is thoroughly discouraged, but then perks up about something. "Hey that nightmare chick comes in here all the time. I bet she brings Liv again." 147

"I hope they're related somehow and Liv isn't actually hanging out with that girl." 148

"Me too, big guy." 149

I spend the rest of my day thinking about Liv- big surprise- and piecing together more of my story. I have about a million of these little projects going on. I write them down and they never get any further than a few chapters. The problem is, I can never think up an ending to them. I mean, in my stories, I just want these people to be happy. No story ever ends happily. Just look at Romeo and Juliet. They're in love, they're together, then they kill themselves. Happy? Yeah, if you're some sadist who enjoys that kind of sick shit. 150

William Shakespeare was a sadist... 151

For a second, I think about if Fake Goth will find the ending happy or not. Then I wonder if Liv would find the story happy or not. It's questions like these that make me think long and hard about what kind of world we live in. Most people would probably find the story to be a tragic ending, but I don't think that's how Shakespeare intended it, even if I'm on the tragic ending point of view. I think he wanted it to be like, even though their families drove them to this point of desperation, they still found a way to be together forever. 152

I'm going to try and incorporate something like that into my story. Maybe then I'll be considered a great, elevated writer. All this world wants anymore is drama. No one's ever satisfied with something good because it's easier to believe something bad will happen. 153

It's stupid as hell. Such is Life. 154

155

156

I'm chilling at Ryan Styles's house. It's pretty big which is awesome. I like having friends with big houses because it's such a nice change from the cramped house I live in. Plus, he has many a gaming system to drain boredom on. Life is good at Ryan's house. 157

His name is Antonio. I don't nickname him Ryan Styles because he's good at being funny on the spot. I call him this because he's super tall and lanky like the real Ryan Styles. Also, he kind of looks like a bird. 158

Ryan is also deaf, but can read lips and talk pretty well for a deaf person. But we don't talk a lot, which is cool. I come here mostly when I need to think on my own and waste hours mindlessly playing Call of Duty and the occasional game of Mario Kart. Nothing beats that. I will be three hundred and five and have my head in a jar and still be playing Mario Kart. No lie. 159

The one thing I can't understand about Ryan is how he can keep so calm playing Mario Kart. That game brings out the beast in me. Every two seconds I'm saying a stream of curse words I didn't even know could be put together in the same sentence. My mouth could probably snap my mom out of whatever zombie-like state she's in. Hell, it could even snap my dad out of his alcoholism. It's that bad. It's times like these when we're playing Mario Kart that I'm grateful for Ryan's deaf-ness. 160

So I'm sitting here in Ryan's huge ass room, playing Mario Kart, and just plain venting. I think They should offer this to people who have Anger Management. It's life-changing and soul-purging enough. Anyway, I'm thinking about everything: Liv, my catatonic parents, Ruby, Molly, Fake Goth, my job, school, my "friends", middle school, Romeo and Juliet. And I'm thinking about it all and I feel like something's going to happen. Did you ever feel that way? Like all of these things have everything and nothing to do with each other? This is what I tell Molly when I go to her on Monday. 161

"What do you think is going to happen, Fonzie?" she asks me. I'm pretty sure I already told her that I don't fucking know, but if you try and tell adults something, it never gets through the first time around. 162

"I'm not sure, Molly. It was just one of those weird feelings I had," I tell her. I get these feelings sometimes. Sometimes a lot and sometimes spread out, but they're always there somehow. 163

"Do you think it may be Liv-related?" she inquires. God, she's so inquisitive. I'm not even entirely sure what that means. But I'm sure that if I looked it up in my pocket dictionary in the left pocket on the inside of my leather jacket, it'd have her picture next to the definition. 164

"Could be. I mean, everything is these days. I don't know why. It happens too fast. She sits down, I come up with a story, I love her. Why?" 165

"Is that what you think? Do you love her?"166

"How can it not be love? Isn't that what love is? You think about the person constantly and everything they do is amazing and beautiful. Right?"167

"It depends. Love is different for everyone. It's not something you can determine from what everyone else thinks. You'll know it when it's your own." 168

Quiet. I'm thinking about what made me start liking Liv. I remember her perfect nose and perfect face and perfect long, black, wavy hair. The hair that she doesn't straighten like the other girls. I remember her eyes, her pale skin, her thin frame. And it's amazing because not one of these features is what made me like her. It's all of them and then this: 169

"Sometimes I think about that day- the day I met her, that is- and I think, If she hadn't cried, what would I have thought of her? Is that sick or what?" It's things like this that make me wonder what kind of person I am. 170

"What do you mean? You think that it's her tears that drew you to her? Her pain that ignited your feelings for her?"171

"No. It's not that..." I sigh. One of those sighs you let go when you're frustrated because even if what you're trying to say is so freaking obvious it hurts, you can't grasp it and express it right. 172

I recollect myself. 173

"It's like... I really cared that she was upset. And when she looked at me... I felt like it was my job to fix whatever was wrong." That's as good as I can express it, so Molly's just going to have to deal with that. 174

She nods. Then it's quiet again. Her pen sounds as she scribbles something down, and then it's quiet once more. 175

This is therapy: strong emotional outbursts and then long silences filled with equally emotional tension. I enjoy it despite this fact. It does help me a lot. I've overcome more than meets the eye. Speaking of eyes, Molly's meet the clock and she lets out a small sigh- I'm unsure if it's one of relief or dismay. They're so similar, don't you think?176

"Our time is up, Fonzie. I think you should think about what we've discussed today and take this piece of advice: It is not your job to take the pain from someone even if you feel it is. Try and remember that and see how your feelings for Liv are by Friday," she tells me. I nod and hand her her check, giving her a reassuring smile that says, "I'm totally gunna try that." 177

All I think on the way out is, Fuck that.178

179

180

So I end up trying Molly's advice, and I have to say it's helping. I mean, I think about Liv less and less it seems. Everytime I think about her, I just remember that it's not my job to worry about her. I decide that this is just a crush and it'll go away soon. 181

But something weird happens as I start to force myself out of liking Liv. I start getting depressed and my thumbs-up sign that I'm known for starts to turn into a myth. My leather jacket feels like a ton of bricks sewn together and I start crying. Man tears are so weird. Even for me being a guy and all, I still think they're abnormal. 182

Another weird thing comes of my depression: I start hanging out with Camilla. Her name is Cilia, but I call her Camilla as in Camilla Belle of The Quiet because she's so goddamn depressing like Camilla is in that movie. Camilla looks like she could be friends with Fake Goth, but when you talk to her, you know she'd never be seen with her because she's the real deal. Her hair is dyed black and her fingernails are painted with Sharpie. She wears all black all the time. No exceptions. I like Camilla, as depressing as she is. So I start hanging out with her more. 183

"If you're ever depressed, this is what I do," she tells me one day as she lifts up her sleeves to show me her wrists. You know how in Edward Scissorhands his face is all scarred from his scissors? Yeah, well, Camilla has him beat by a good hundred scars or so. 184

Normally, this is what I'd do: I'd recomend Camilla to Molly and try and get her depression thing figured out before walking away and not hanging out with her anymore. 185

Instead, this is what I do: I go home and I grab an Exacto knife. You know, one of those ones that you use in art class. I stare at it for a while and I decide that I'm pretty depressed today, so maybe I should take Camilla's advice. 186

I run it across my wrist. 187

"FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" I scream, running to the bathroom to wash the small stream of blood oozing from the wound. Damn, it burns so bad! I decide that Camilla's off her rocker and I'm never doing this again. Nothing's this bad. I place a band-aid on my cut. It's really not that bad and I bet if I leave it alone, it won't even scar. I am so pissed that she told me to do this. 188

I stare at my cut for a couple of hours, fuming at Camilla all the while, and listening to heavy metal music full blast. I keep opening and closing and re-opening my band-aid to stare at the damage. The adhesive wears off every ten or fifteen minutes from this, so I keep having to change it until finally I'm down to my last five band-aids out of the twenty I started out with. 189

After a while, my anger towards Camilla wears off like the adhesive and it's replaced with sympathy. I feel sorry for Camilla that she has to do that- cut herself- to be not depressed. I think back on what she said after she gave me the "advice" to do this: 190

"Sometimes, the world closes me in. I get tired of my dad hitting me. I get tired of my mom being dead. I get tired of my boyfriend touching me. And all this fatigue and all this drama just builds up inside until I'm just completely numb. Catatonic. I can't think. I guess cutting just makes me feel alive." 191

I know Camilla needs me to talk to sometimes, but I can't really listen to her anymore because it drives me crazy to be depressed all the time. I decide that tomorrow, I'm going to give her Molly's number. I also decide to never, ever try this again. Ever. 192

193

194

Two weeks go by and I'm still depressed and hanging out with Camilla. I recomended her to Molly, but I don't think she's called her yet because Molly hasn't said anything to me. Maybe she's not supposed to say anything. I don't know how this stuff works. I do think that Camilla would've told me if she called her, though, so I'm going with the fact that she didn't. 195

Anyway, I'm not cutting myself. I didn't even bother telling Molly because she'd probably tell me that I have an issue with that. Which isn't true. I tried it, it hurt like fuck, and I didn't do it again. The end. Therapists are always trying to make something into something else completely. Well, most of them anyway. I think they're all secretly fighting to become the next Oprah. Molly's not usually like that, but sometimes she really gets into searching for the deeper meaning when there really isn't one. Or maybe there is and I just don't want there to be one. That's the trouble with me sometimes: I can see it from both points of view. Ever since I've been going to therapy, I tend to analyze myself a bit more. 196

During these past few weeks with Camilla, I learn a lot about her. Her favourite movie is Donnie Darko and her favourite colour is actually purple even though everyone assumes it's black. She hates her boyfriend, but stays with him because she's afraid of losing her friends over him. But she swears if she found the right guy, she would leave all of them. Her middle name is Eliza and her mom died from muscular sclerosis. And as I learn these things about Camilla, I begin to lose interest in Liv- or so I think. In fact, a part of me thinks I may be starting to like Camilla. Like she's taking Liv's place. I'm not sure how to react to this. I'm not really sure how to react to anything anymore. 197

The third week of my Camilla binge, I notice something extremely odd that completely pulls me out of my silly, self-centered depression. What happens is this: I walk into my French class- or rather drag my feet across the floor towards the general direction of my seat in said class- and I grunt towards Maya, Ashton, and Phil. They know something's completely wrong with me because I haven't been as into them lately. I think they're offended and slightly pissed at me. But I don't really care. That's my attitude lately. I find it highly effective towards everything. It pisses Ruby off though because I'm hardly doing anything at work anymore. He's threatened to fire me twice in the past two weeks- which has never happened before. If that happens, I won't be able to go to therapy anymore or buy food for the house. But, hey, I don't care. Anyway... I walk into French class and I notice that the seat next to me is completely empty. 198

Something strange happens in the pit of my stomach. My knees begin to tremble and my eyes start to well up. Oh please, God, do not let me cry in front of all these people. I go with the rest of my body and collapse into my chair. My mind is racing: Where's Liv? Why isn't Liv here? How can Liv do this to me? Is something wrong with Liv? Liv Liv Liv Liv Liv Liv Liv Liv Liv 199

I want to scream.200

No sound comes out.201

I want to run.202

No place to go. 203

And suddenly, I realise: I care so much about this girl. She's the reason my heart races with meaning. She's the reason I look forward to Geometry now. She's the reason for my depression these past few weeks. She's the reason I friggin' wake up in the morning. She's my reason for everything! 204

And she's also the reason why I decide to skip the rest of the school day, ditch Camilla and our plans to go to the mall later, go to work early, and go home to sleep. 205

Love sucks. Caring kills. 206

207


The next day, I see Camilla waiting for me at my locker. I know she's pissed about me ditching her because she has her red contacts in and she only wears those for emphasis on her pissed-off mood. Also, she's glaring in my direction. You'd figure this kind of mood would mean you hate the person so you'd stay away. But Camilla? She just stays there. Waiting. For me. 208

"Hey," I greet her with a half-smile. Maybe that'll melt the ice. Put out the fire. Any other cliches I can think of. 209

"Hi," her words come out cold as ice. Like, you know when you get caught in a dirty lie with your parents and they talk to you "in that way". Well, Camilla is now my mother after I've snuck into the house at around three o' clock AM. You know, if my mother gave a damn. 210

"Look, I'm sorry about-"211

"About what, Fonzie? Leaving me alone at the mall to walk around like a total loser? Leaving me alone at the mall to be teased and mocked by a bunch of asshole jocks who then decided to push me into the mall fountain? It's no fucking problem!" She has tears in her eyes and I look down, catching a glimpse of something fresh and red on Camilla's wrist... 212

What a dousch I am. 213

"Camilla, I'm so, so sorry. I really am." 214

"God, you know... I just wish... Fuck it. Never mind. It's whatever." She fishes around her ginormous purse. "I bought this for you at the mall before they pushed me in." 215

It's a season of Happy Days. This makes me smile. 216

"Thanks... I don't deserve this, though." 217

"Everyone messes up sometimes, Fonz. It's alright." 218

That's the other thing I like about Camilla. She's very forgiving, even when you don't deserve to be forgiven. The bell rings then and we go to different classes. As I'm walking away, something tells me to look behind me and I see that something told Camilla to do the same thing. 219

220

221

"Camilla's my friend," I start out telling Molly. She just nods, and for some reason, this infuriates me. "I mean it! She's my friend! And just my friend." 222

"I never said anything that suggested otherwise," she calmly states. This is true. Damn that woman... Damn women period. They're all so confusing. 223

"The thing is, I think I'm hanging out with her too much. I mean, I think she likes me."224

"You don't want your friends to like you?"225

"No not like that. I meant, I think she likes me. You know... 'in that way'." [Yes, I did use "air quotes". Sue me.] 226

"Does that bother you?" Oh Molly, Molly, Molly. You always know what to say to make a boy confused don't you? I heave a sigh and don't answer the question. This maneuver only lasts a few minutes, though, until I realise how child-like that is. 227

"It's not that it bothers me. It's just... confusing. I mean, I really like Liv. But if Camilla's into me, then I guess I could go with her, even though she's not my first choice." 228

"Is that right to treat someone that way?"229

"No! It isn't! And I feel like a huge dick!" 230

"You know, Fonzie, just because you like Liv a lot doesn't mean that you're dedicated to her. If you like other girls, that's okay too. But you can't lead Camilla on like this and expect her to just wait for you."231

"So... should I just go with Camilla then?" 232

"That's not my decision to make, Fonz. My suggestion to you is that you find out where you stand with Liv first before you do any real decision-making." 233

"Yeah... I guess you're right. I'm just so scared to talk to her!" Wow I sound like a pansie. Molly just smiles. 234

"Of course you are. But you'll have to do it sometime. Especially if you end up going out with her." I mull this over for all of three seconds before Molly says, "Our time is up. I'll see you again Friday." I hand her the check and get up to walk out. 235

"Fonzie?"236

"Yeah?"237

"Who are you?" 238

"I'll get back to you on that." 239

And then I leave. 240

241

242

There's too fucking much to think about. I can't stand my home, so I'm definitely not going there. Ryan's house seems a little too quiet for me right now. It's not my day to work, and I don't feel like chilling in there anyway. Not even with Ruby. So, this is what I do: I get on a bus. I get on a bus and I ride for the rest of the day. This bus takes me all over the city and even into the next couple towns over. I go around and around, naming people; see new places; see old places. I talk to people. Bert McCracken, Ellen Page, and Dave Chapelle. People as random as John Trovolta or as common as Michael Cera. 243

When I get off this bus, I'm right back at the exact stop I got on. As I walk home, I think about everything that's ever happened to me. I think about all the harrassment I endured for being accused of being gay. I remember the assembly, the curtain drawn, the rope around my neck. I remember the stool beneath my feet, how the rope was tied to the rafters, and the gasps of the peers who mocked me. I think about the week spent in the institution until the contract was signed stating that I wouldn't hurt myself. I mean, seriously, what's that contract going to do to keep me from hurting myself? Are the people who create these rules on meth? Shrooms? Anything? Anyway, I'm thinking about all this and I think, Do I create these stories about people to demolish my own memories? Do I give everyone names because I don't want anyone to know mine? Is all of Molly's psycho-babble right in some way? 244

I end up at Corner Books. I don't know why, so don't ask me, but I do know that there's this burning feeling in my eyes now and a hot mess running down my face. I don't even remember what this feels like, it's been that long. 245

"Oh honey, what's wrong?" Ruby rushes to me as I enter the store. He embraces me and... I let go of everything. Not only the sucky past that is the foundation to my being, but I let go of snot and tears and... well, more snot. All over Ruby's shirt. And instead of getting mad- like any other feminine man would get over his new shirt- Ruby soothes me and runs his hands up and down my violently quivering back. 246

"Why am I like this?"247

"Like what? I don't understand."248

I don't either. I guess I just wanted someone to know the answer, so I took a shot on Ruby. He didn't have it. Instead of explaining myself, I sit around Corner Books with Ruby for a while. We drink hot chocolate that we get from the desert island place: Starbucks. He makes me laugh a lot which is good in situations like these. Although, I wouldn't know what's good to do in situations like these because I haven't had one in so long. Man cries are so odd... 249

"So... Albert and I got back together," Ruby says oh-so-casually before taking a sip of his hot chocolate. I nod for a second, thinking this is just oh-so-casual because of the way he said it. And then it dawned on me, Wait a minute... THIS ISN'T NORMAL!250

"What the fuck did you just say?" I can't believe I just said that to my boss. What an idiot I am. 251

"He came in here begging for us to get back together"- somehow I don't think it was anything quite so dramatic- "and I thought, What the hay? Everyone deserves a second chance, right big guy?" I think "no", but I say, "Yeah." That's another problem with me. I scarcely ever say what's on my mind, but I guess you already know that by now. 252

I know it's wrong, but I can't help but feel a touch of envy from Ruby and Albert's reunification. I just wish I could have something like that. I don't know what I'm going to do anymore. I feel like... dying. Even with a giggle foaming from my mouth from Ruby's corny jokes, I feel like dying. 253

I can't deal with any of this anymore. I'm going to bed. Right after I finish this hot chocolate. 254

255

256

I'm outside of my house, sitting in the passenger side of Ruby's car. We've been sitting like this for a solid five minutes: Me staring out the window at my cold home and Ruby drumming his fingers on the wheel, waiting for me to say something. Or leave. I suppose this scene would look something like the corny love movies when the guy is dropping off the girl after their first date and neither one of them knows what to do. Only, we're both guys. So it'd probably be a pretty non-traditional, odd-looking scene to anybody passing by. 257

Anyway, the main reason I'm not moving is because I don't want to go in that house. I know that if I enter that house, nothing good will be waiting for me. I don't need a money back guarantee. It's a given. I can't tell Ruby this, though, because he'll probably have some boss-like obligation where he'd have to tell the cops about my "condition at home". As if anyone passing by couldn't tell from the condition of the lawn or the way the screen door doesn't hang right. I know if I walked by, I'd be like, "Yup. That's a dysfunctional family for ya." 258

"Something bothering you, big guy?" Ruby asks, genuinely concerned about me. I don't really know what to say to this. If I answer "no", I'll be lying to him, but if I answer "yes", something bad could happen. Something legal and court-like. I decide to just shake it off and leave like nothing's wrong. 259

"I'll see you tomorrow," I offer, getting out of the car. 260

"Wait." 261

"Yeah?" I turn round to face Ruby as I stand with my hand ready to slam the car door shut. 262

"You're gunna be okay, big guy." For some reason, this makes me want to cry. Probably because it isn't true- and I know this. I give a half-smile and close the car door, heading towards my house. Instead of entering through the front door, I avoid my parents and climb in through my window. I don't really know what else to do, so I just go to sleep. 263

264

265

In my dream, Camilla is holding me. We're kissing and being a couple- something I've never done in my entire life, so how can I conjure up the emotions of it accurately in dream form? Her eyes are heavily lidded and they hold a lazy, caring, tortured-in-love look about them. I know mine are the same. She opens her mouth to say something, but suddenly... 266

She's Liv. 267

That's when I decide to wake up. Shortly after I wake up, I call Camilla. 268

Ring. 269

Ring. 270

"H-Hello?" Camilla answers. She's breathing heavy and sniffing a lot. 271

She's crying. 272

"Camilla?"273

"Fonzie!" Who else would call her "Camilla"? She sounds a little better all of a sudden. Less heavy breathing. More sniffing. Finishing off crying I suppose. 274

"Why are you crying?" I ask, with a lot of concern in my voice. I feel like Ruby. Only... not gay. 275

"I can't tell you over the phone. Can we meet up somewhere?" I don't answer within ten seconds so she adds a really heartbreaking, "Please?"276

Ten minutes later, I'm sitting on a bench at Veteran's Park- which is only about a five minute walk from my house. Camilla and I decided to meet here. I can tell she needs me. An odd sort of sensation washes over me knowing this. It's not power so much as it is the knowledge that someone needs me. I like that. A lot. 277

Camilla is stalking over to me, arms folded tightly across her chest- They say that exposes insecurity or some bullshit like that. Tears are evident upon her face, and before she sits down, I stand up and hold her as she violently shakes and bawls in my chest. I rub her back saying, "Shhhhh..." like my mom used to do before five years ago happened. When she's calmed down a bit, we sit down. I take notice of the fresh wounds on her arms, and for some reason, me noticing this sparks a different emotion within me, different than the other times I've seen the same thing. 278

"Camilla..." I can't grasp words. They don't come. And they don't need to because she starts telling me her story. 279

"I don't know why I go out with him. Dr. Lenning says"- so she is seeing Molly- "that I do it because I'm making up for the lack of father-daughter relationship in my life. I think I just like to be depressed. But this fucking boyfriend sucks and I can't take it anymore. Because it isn't making love. It isn't having fun. It isn't sex. Christ! It isn't even fucking! He just goes wherever he wants, whenever he wants. He calls me names and makes fun of me and uses force when necessary. Which is a lot. And then I get home and my dad hits me for being late and screams at me for being a 'slut'"- she uses air quotes, and I love her for it- "because somehow he knows what my boyfriend does to me. And he doesn't do anything about it. And, you know, it wasn't like this before Tommy went to an institution. But after that my parents started to fight and my mom got really sick. Then she died. And after that, my dad got mean and started drinking. Then Tommy went to a private school and boarded there. Christ, I haven't seen him in for-fucking-ever..." 280

Cilia Bakowski. How could I forget? Tommy. Her brother... 281

"Cilia... I... I'm sorry." And to tell you the truth, I don't know what I'm sorry for! I know I didn't do anything wrong, but I don't know what else to say. 282

"For what?" As soon as the words leave her precious lips, I realize just what it is I'm sorry for. 283

"I'm sorry that I was so dramatic about everything back in middle school. I shouldn't have tried to hang myself in front of everyone at that assembly. It was just a couple of pictures. I didn't mean to-" 284

"You have nothing to appologize for. Tommy wasn't right in the head. You weren't the only person he did this to. There were two other people, and a few days after that all happened, he forced himself on some girl. He needed the help. Trust me." 285

"But he wouldn't have been exposed if I didn't do that. And then your parents wouldn't have fought and your mom wouldn't have gotten sick"- my voice cracks unexpectedly- "and-"286

"Fonzie! My mom was sick before this all happened. She had muscular sclerosis. It was bound to happen sooner or later... Besides, Tommy was going to get caught whether or not you attempted to kill yourself. It's okay." But it isn't okay. Why can't she see that I'm the leading cause of everything wrong in her life? This is all my fault. Somehow, I know it is. 287

"I'm just so sorry, Cilia. I don't know what to do. I wish this"- I gesture to everything- "was all better for you. I just want you to be happy..." There's a long silence after this where a few joggers pass by and some mothers with their babies in carriages. But Cilia and I, we don't stop staring at each other. It's weird. And I realize now that I haven't thought of Liv at all today. I mean, in a dream I did, but I can't help that. All of a sudden, Cilia's talking. 288

"Fonzie... I..." But she doesn't have to say anything because I feel it too. And before she gets a chance to say anything else, I'm kissing her. Nothing animalistic. More romantic and true. And I don't care how gay I sound when I describe this to you. Guys can be sensitive too you know! Anyway, there's really no other way to describe this other than it's like... coming inside to have some hot chocolate after shoveling snow all day. And when we're done, this is what I say:289

"Cilia, I love you." 290

Let me tell you something, nothing could be more true. 291

292

293

The next couple of weeks are kind of weird. I mean, I can't actually call Cilia my girlfriend because she's still taken by that douchebag. She says we have to keep it a secret because she doesn't want me to get hurt by this guy. That kind of scares me. I imagine this guy to be big and strong or something. 294

"Does he go to our school?" I ask one day. 295

"Sometimes... he never goes to class. He just hangs around. Watching me. It's creepy." I don't know what to say to that, so I just leave it like that. 296

It's hard being Cilia's boyfriend and knowing she has another "boyfriend". I always have to pick up the pieces when he fucks up. I usually do this by taking her out somewhere or taking her to one of my friends' houses to watch a movie. I hold her for a while and kiss her when necessary- which happens to be often. I think I do a pretty good job. I don't get how she can stand this other guy, though. He basically rapes her and she won't tell anyone except me. And it kills me. I can't do anything because I don't know this guy's name or address. I'm helpless. She doesn't seem to mind though. At least I get to see her smile. I wonder if he gets to see her smile at all... 297

I never think of Liv anymore. I catch her looking at me sometimes, but I ignore this. Sometimes I don't even notice her staring because I'm so busy thinking about what I'm going to do with Cilia after school or on the weekend. I think she notices that my thoughts of her have turned to ash because she seems sad that I scarcely ever look back at her. 298

Molly tells me to not become so attached to Cilia that she's the only thing that makes me happy. I kind of understand what she's saying, but to be perfectly honest, she's the only thing I have at this point. I mean, my homelife is not good at all and my friends hardly know all that much about me. No one really knows all that much about me really. I keep my name hidden. Even from Cilia. Sometimes that's hard because I want to tell her my name. Truthfully, I'm scared to do this, because I know it will unleash a new part of my life. I don't know if I'm ready for that yet. Molly keeps trying to get it out of me though. Every session it is now. 299

"Fonzie?"300

"Yeah, Molly?"301

"Who are you?" 302

I have yet to answer. I feel bad sometimes, leaving Molly's office with a check for her and an empty question hanging in the air. I'm thinking about that as I go to therapy today, but today, I think I'm going to tell her my actual name. As I walk up the path to the door of the building, an eery sense penetrates the air. Something isn't right here. I can feel it. 303

The secretary looks up as I walk into the waiting room of Molly's office. 304

"Where's Molly?" I ask. 305

"Dr. Lenning won't be in today or any other day for the next two weeks," she informs me. 306

"Why not?" The secretary hesitates before telling me, but she knows me pretty well, so she gives in. 307

"It's her husband... He's passed away." My ears instantly start ringing and my heart pounds icicles through my body. I hadn't asked about her husband in such a long time. I figured everything was fine. I didn't want to bring it up since it would probably cause her to be upset. I feel like I might throw up. 308

I think about the last time I saw Jerry Lenning. It was before he got really sick. We joked around a lot. I guess that's a good way to remember him and for him to have remembered me before his passing. I feel really bad for Molly. I don't know what to do. I mutter something like an, "Oh... thanks..." to the secretary before bolting out the door all the way to Cilia's house. By the time I get there, my face is streaked with tears. What the hell is wrong with me? Guys are not supposed to cry this much in one lifetime. Maybe I have a hormone disorder... Is it wrong that I'm pondering this instead of Jerry when Cilia answers the door? 309

"Oh God! What's the matter?" She's so selfless even when her life is a living hell. She truly is a saint. 310

"Jerry... Jerry... Jerry..." I can't say it. If I say it, it's happened and all of this will be real. 311

"Who's-" Cilia starts to ask, but the dawn of realization washes over her face. She knows before I start to break down. 312

"I can't believe he's dead! I can't believe it! What... how did... oh God I'm gunna throw up!" I'm blubbering. I am so freaking humiliated by this. I should not be on my knees on Cilia's porch in hysterics about my therapist's husband. This is so retarded. 313

"Shhh... it's okay, babe." Cilia takes me into her arms and leads me inside to her couch. I fall asleep on her shoulder. All that running and hysterical crying catches up to me in a swift moment.314

When I dream, I see Jerry. Everyone is dressed in black and crying. No one else can see Jerry but me- not even Molly. He comes up to me and places his arm around me. 315

"You're a good kid, Fonzie. I'm proud of you," he beams at me. I smile at him and soon, I wake up to Cilia's kisses. 316

"Babe, you have to wake up. My dad's going to be home soon," she tells me. This jolts me up. Her father is a freaking nightmare, let me tell you. I've only ever met him once and it was a huge mistake. He nearly chased me off his porch screaming at me to not touch his daughter. Scary stuff, man. Scary stuff. 317

"I want to stay like this forever," I cuddle close to her. I only act so mushy around her so I can see that smile. The one she won't show anyone else. 318

"I do too, but I also don't want my dad to see you here. So get gone, baby boy," she giggles pushing me off the couch. I start to laugh and then get up to say goodbye. Just then a car door slams out front. I quickly kiss her cheek and bolt out the back door. That was way too close for comfort. 319

320

321


Cilia has become my reason for happiness anymore. Whenever I come close to thinking about Jerry, I think of Cilia instead. Kissing Cilia. Hugging Cilia. Cilia Cilia Cilia. Ruby appreciates my infatuation. Probably because it's better than moping around all the time. He also may appreciate it because my love for Cilia has brought him much business. She loves to read, so she buys all the books she likes. She also gets along well with Ruby, which is really something else since she's usually very anti-social. She's great. 322

I still worry about her with that "boyfriend" sometimes though. I call him Martin- as in Martin Donovan from The Quiet who sexually abuses his daughter in the movie. I still can't put a face to that nickname- a real life face, not a movie star face- but I intend to some day. I don't know what I'd do if I were ever confronted with Martin. But I can tell you this much: It wouldn't be pretty. 323

Cilia and I can't really be seen in public places together as a couple. Like parties and such. She says that a lot of his friends are looking out for him, trying to catch her doing something wrong so that they can tell him about it. We also can't go to the mall and be "couply". She says it's too risky. But for whatever reason- I don't know- she decides she wants to go to Ashton Kutcher's party- Kris from French class. 324

"I'm taking a stand, Fonz. I can't stand this secret shit anymore. I'm breaking up with him. I want you, and if he can't handle that, oh well." Her defiance inspires me. Like in the movies where the coaches give those deep and meaningful speeches before The Big Game and they all go out there and kick ass. Then they have a party and get drunk and stuff. We're probably going to follow the same guidelines here. 325

"Whatever you want to do, babe. Just be careful. I don't want to see you get hurt because of me." 326

I'm scared shitless because of this. She doesn't know what she's doing- obviously- and I wish I could just grab her and run away with her. I've mentioned it a couple of times to her. I don't think she takes me seriously though. Neither of us has any reason to stay. Our homelives are terrible and we don't belong with the other people in this rotten town. We could easily run. 327

Be together. 328

Forever. 329

Just like the movies... 330

I confide in Ruby about Cilia's plan to break up with Martin and the whole party thing.331

"Do you think this is a good idea? Should I try to talk her out of it? What should I do?!" I'm a pot left lone to foam and fuss. 332

"I think you need to calm down. This guy is big trouble from what you've told me"- I told him about the raping stuff, just so you know- "but I don't think he can do anything too bad and get away with it. Just take my cell phone and call 911 if necessary. Cilia will do what she feels is best for herself. There's no stopping that, big guy. Don't you think it'd be better if she broke up with him? She wouldn't be getting abused anymore," Ruby reasons. He has a way of making me calm that alarms me sometimes. I sigh and nod a little, thinking it through and taking the cell phone offered to me. 333

"But what if something truly horrible happens?" 334

"That's a chance you're gunna have to take, big guy."335

Damn. I hate being the one left to decide. Deciding blows. 336

337

338

It's the night of the party and I have to say, it's a truly amazing party. The music rocks. The drinks rock. The people rock. Everything is awesome. And Cilia... she's beautiful. She's smiling more than I've ever seen before, and it could be because of the alcohol, but I don't care. She's shining. My star. My Cilia. 339

I grab her by the hand. 340

Whisper in her ear. 341

"I want to show you what making love is like." 342

It's true, I would have rather been somewhere not surrounded by a bunch of drunk teenagers who could penetrate The Moment at any given time, but something in me told me it was now or never. She followed me up the stairs and into an empty, dimly lit bedroom where we locked the door and began kissing. Passionately, we kissed until our hands slid all around each other's bodies and a rich hum sounded in my ears. Suddenly I was counting the number of clothing I had on until the number came to a resounding zero. I could feel every curve of Cilia's perfect body and was reminded of the ocean. Of Mt. Everest. Of the moon. I could feel no further euphoric than if I won the lottery. We worked ourselves around each other until the humming in my ears became a chorus. And all the enchanting voices sang out, "Cilia... Cilia... Cilia!" 343

And that's exactly what it was like. I don't care how womanly that sounded from me because what's true is true. I think in that fine, glorious, euphoric moment with Cilia I finally understood why Shakespeare wrote the way he did. Ha. I once hated Romeo and Juliet... 344

A day went by, or was it just an hour? But Cilia and I were clothed and out of the bedroom, starry-eyed and deeper in love than anyone else in the world. The music- still thumping- and the general bump of the party shot through our veins as the door swung open, and we were impervious to all of it. 345

And then it happened. 346

"Who the fuck is that?" a voice boomed from across the room. Cilia and I spun round, hand-in-hand, to greet the loud voice that had shouted through the party. I never even met him, but I knew it was him. 347

Martin. It had to be. 348

"None of your business you fucking creep! I already told you I don't want you anymore! I broke up with you. We're through!" Cilia shrieked at him. I would have hated to be on the other end of that sentence. This was Martin, though. So, the sympathy shrunk away quite quickly. 349

"You're a bitch, do you know that? A dirty little whore! I bet you screwed him you grimy slut! Crawl back in the sewer," he sneered. Cilia flipped him the bird and Martin and friends did one of those fake "oooooooooooooh"s. I was infuriated, but could do nothing. 350

"Let's go," Cilia muttered. And I followed. I'd never been so scared in my entire life. I knew those guys would follow us. It was only a matter of time. But I was still buzzed from making love to Cilia, so my train of thought was fogged with lust and love. Ridiculous reason, right? I think so too. 351

The brisk night air greeted us quite nicely. It woke me up quickly. 352

"Cilia, I think we should take a bus or a cab or something. Walking home is not the smartest thing to do with those guys around," I suggested, clenching Ruby's cell phone in my pocket. 353

"Do you have any money?" 354

Shit. You'd think I'd have money what with the whole JOB factor. That's just me, though. Thinking Fate has a way of working around me. Cough... 355

"No..." 356

"We'll walk then. We don't have a choice. Everyone we knew was at that party, and they're all too trashed to drive now anyway." She had a point. Walking was so eery, knowing a bunch of drunk assholes were out to get you. I didn't know what they had in store, but I knew it wasn't pretty. I held Cilia's hand tightly as we walked in the direction of home. She didn't complain. And by the quickness of her pulse felt through my hand, I would say that she was just as scared as I was. 357

She was so beautiful. 358

We kept each other's minds clear of what we knew was coming eventually by filling the silence with words. Conversation kept the fear at bay until it was a distant ship in the back of our minds. 359

"You know something, Cilia?" 360

"No. What?" She smiled. That smile. I treasure that image in my mind... 361

Before I got to answer her, a car screeched around the corner driving wildly. I didn't have to think about anything. I knew it was them. I whipped Cilia behind me to protect her as they came to a halt before us and got out of the car. 362

"You belong to me you stupid bitch. Get away from that guy now and come to me now." Martin's words were slurred and distorted and the steps he took towards us were crooked and disproportional. 363

"Greg, just leave us alone. You're drunk. Go home." Cilia spoke behind me, keeping her distance. 364

"Don't you ever tell me what to fucking do you dirty whore!"365

"Don't call me that." 366

"It's true. You beg for it sweetie. You know deep down that you still want it. Get it, get it, get it," he sickly teased, grabbing himself. I cringed and fumed in rage. I couldn't take it. 367

"Shut your fucking mouth you dirtbag. Don't you ever talk to her that way," I snapped. I like to think I sounded like the kid from The Butterfly Effect when he went back in time and was talking to the twisted father. 368

"THAT'S IT!!!!!!!!!!!" With a swift move, he pulled a baseball bat out of nowhere. Probably hidden by his side in the darkness. I couldn't move quick enough. My legs were made of lead all of a sudden and I couldn't get out of the way. I couldn't protect Cilia anymore. I was on the ground, wavering between conciousness and coma. Just as I shut my eyes with a groan, I heard Cilia scream. 369

Helpless. Hopeless. Alone. Scared. 370

That scream filled my head and echoed throughout my unconcious body. 371

And was that the un-buckling of a belt I heard...? 372

373

374

I threw up. Have you ever been woken up by the smell of your own vomit? If you haven't, don't try it. It's nasty. My head was pounding. What happened? I threw up again. Everything looked blurry even after I blinked a few times. Dizziness kept me down. 375

Why am I here? What's going on? Thoughts flew through my mind. In and out. In and out. What happened to me? 376

Then, everything came back in a sharp, searing blast of memory. I cried out, "CILIA!" 377

Nothing. 378

I scrambled up to my feet and looked around the blackness of the night. The car was gone, so They were gone. But where was she? Had They taken her with them? What had They done? 379

Right then, I spotted a lump in the middle of the road. I quickly paced towards it. 380

There she was. Skirt torn to shreds along with underwear. Bruises, dirt, and cuts on her arms and legs. Chest moving slightly, showing the slowness of her breath. This girl was raped. Almost murdered. This girl was Cilia... 381

"Cilia? Cilia?! CILIA WAKE UP!" My voice echoed off the surrounding buildings and trees, and everything seemed to have heard me except for my Cilia. 382

I shook her, and her eyes fluttered. 383

"Cilia? Cilia?! Oh God, Cilia, please wake up! Please wake up. God oh-" 384

"Fonzie...?" Whispers in the wind. I clung to them. It was her voice. 385

"Cilia," I was whimpering. Yes. Whimpering. "Please, live, Cilia. Please. I can't live without you. I don't want to live without you. God, please live. Please let her live, God, oh please." 386

"Fonzie... what were you... going to tell me...?" 387

My mind scrambled and found this: 388

"You know something, Cilia?" 389

"No. What?" 390


I held her close. This had to mean something. If it was the last thing I'd say, it had to mean something. So I told her the only thing that meant anything to me so it could be hers. It could be ours. I whispered it into her fragile ear so that the rest of the world couldn't know. 391

Weakly she smiled and murmured, "That's a nice name..." Her body went limp somehow then. And it crushed me. As if the weight of the world were thrust upon me. 392

"Here boy! Catch this!" laughed God as he threw the world to me. I couldn't move. 393

"Cilia! Cilia! WAKE UP! God I love you so much. Please don't be dead. Please don't be dead. Oh, God, don't be dead. I love you... I love you..." But nothing brought her back. By then, someone had seen what was going on and called the cops. People crowded around the lost boy with the victim in his hands weeping loudly and obnoxiously for a miracle to happen. 394

Lights flashed. 395

Tears fell. 396

She died. 397

398

399

In a graveyard by the corner, there is a blackbird. He sings loudly and mournfully. Maybe for those he knew. 400

Maybe for those he didn't know. 401

He catches worms and eats them. Flies away. Comes back. Flies away again. 402

But he always comes back does he not? Right to that same spot in that same graveyard by the corner. 403

Birds are beautiful that way. How they can fly and be free from the ground for a while, and when they touch back down, it's the same ground they always knew. That they always loved... 404

I know that Cilia must be a bird. 405

She must be. 406

407

408

Two days after the funeral, I pack a bag of clothes and money. I buy some white lillies on my way to the cemetery and place them on Cilia's grave. In the bouqet there is a note that says: "I will always love you" I go to Corner Books next to work my last shift. Ruby doesn't know this yet. That it's my last shift, I mean. He just goes along, avoiding the subject of Cilia. Albert isn't here today, and I presume that it's because Ruby told him not to come. Maybe being around couples would be too stimulating for me at the moment... 409

After my shift at the book store, I drop by Molly's office. I haven't gone there in roughly three weeks, but I figure I'd better go there for the sake of memory and respect towards Molly. 410

"Fonzie, this is a surprise," she says when she sees me. I nod. I don't say anything. I haven't said anything since Cilia died. "Is there a reason you came?" I nod and reach into my pocket to hand her a letter I've written. Just for her. The confusion on her face is plain to see, but I just give her an informal hug and leave her office for the last time. 411

Maybe now her question will be answered. 412

I feel like all my last duties have been fulfilled in this town, so I head towards the bus stop and wait to board the bus. When it comes, I push through towards the back and spot a raven-haired, perfect-nosed girl sitting in the last seat by herself. 413

I take the spot next to her, and we're silent for a while. It's been about thirty minutes and we're well into the next town, but she remains in her seat. 414

"Hi," I try. She looks over at me, recognition taking form on her face. 415

"Hey," she says. She sounds as if the sea has washed her to shore after days of dehydration. 416

"I'm Roger," I tell her. Offering her a hand. 417

"Wendy," she seems embarrassed as she shakes my hand. We talk for a while. She tells me about why she cried [her parents got divorced]. I tell her what's happened to me. I notice that it's been a good couple of hours and she hasn't bothered to get off the bus. 418

"So.. ah... where you goin'?" I ask her. She stares out the window, and shrugs. 419

"Anywhere," she sighs. "Anywhere at all..." 420

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