Naomi dug into her pocket and handed him a few dollar bills. “Here—get some for your friends too. And go easy on the jalapeno!”
He thanked her profusely, and she continued down the street. I hadn’t noticed it when we were filming, but nearly every person stared at her as she passed. Most of them looked curious, even fascinated. She made a lot of people smile too. Everyone she approached—young or old. Maybe it was the purple hair or the fact that she was always humming a song under her breath. But people saw Naomi.
I wished she had watched this with us. Maybe she could’ve seen that she was only invisible to herself.
I saw the real Naomi when we began editing. Everything she never said was in her eyes. I didn’t know how it happened. I was cutting a clip of her singing “Invisible.” The camera zoomed in during these lines: She knows her place in this world. She can tear down its walls and still nobody knows her name. Her smile faded and her face tensed. She eyed the camera under lowered lashes, and her eyes glistened a little. Like she had a tremendous secret buried in her chest. Then she crinkled her brow, parting her lips for the next line. Yeah, she knows her place. But she’s not going down… without a fight. She stared directly at the lens then. Right through me, demanding my attention. I froze the frame and copied it to the time line. The video needed to end here. With that look—the anger and the determination.
And the music video for “Invisible” was born.
F riday, December 14My last entry of the semester. It almost feels too soon. You asked us to look at our first entry and write about what’s changed and what’s stayed the same since then. Well, a lot has happened since September 10.History is still boring, and I still have no idea what to write half the time. But Naomi’s words no longer fill the gaps in my mind. She was only in my life for a month, but I still miss her so much. I don’t think I’ll ever stop.I’ve spent my entire life trying to define this little thing called “normal.” Excuse my language, but what the hell is it? I’ll tell you what it’s not.1. It’s not smiling when you don’t mean it.Naomi wore that mask all the time, hoping someone would take it off and see how unhappy she really was. She didn’t know how to be honest with the world. A lot of people don’t. Not even me. I just thought I did because I didn’t buy into the whole fake and plastic thing. I convinced myself that being lonely was better than reaching out to people. Because they’d end up hurting me. So, I told them to go away. But what I really wanted more than anything was a friend. Someone to take me as I am and love me anyway.I only smile when I want to now. If people don’t like it, that’s tough. It’s who I am. Love me or leave me. Sure, I’ll say please and thank you. When I mean it. If the world calls this a disorder, let them. I call it me. Medication may clear my head some, it might help me be more patient and not freak out over things as much, but it doesn’t change who I am. And it never will.2. It’s not little white lies. A lie is still just that. A LIE.A lot of people think it’s acceptable or even right to tell someone they look nice when they don’t. To say you got stuck in traffic when you overslept. To pretend to like someone, even if you can’t stand the sight of them. But most people don’t think it’s okay to lie about the BIG things, which are subjective anyway. Well, I think that’s a really confusing way to live. If you like someone, you tell the truth because that, to me, is respect. If you hate someone, you tell them the truth because what do you have to lose?3. It’s not small talk.If you don’t care, don’t ask me how I am. Chances are, I don’t care how you are, either. And it’s not because I don’t respect you or I think you’re a loser. I just don’t know you well enough to care yet. So, let’s pass each other in silence and go on with our lives.And there you have it. Three socially acceptable things I’ve decided not to accept.Normal is an ideal. But it’s not reality. Reality is brutal, it’s beautiful, it’s every shade between black and white, and it’s magical. Yes, magical. Because every now and then, it turns nothing into something.Roger told me that last bit. Actually, it’s in his lyrics. He became the singer of M3 last week. Naomi wasn’t kidding. He can really sing! Kari wants to be our new drummer, so she’s been taking lessons. They’ll never replace Naomi, but they bring something new to the band, and I’m glad they want to be part of it. Even if we don’t always get along. Roger says stupid things sometimes, and Kari still thinks I’m kind of weird. But, like Justin says, we don’t all have to be best friends to make great music together.My mom and I are still living with Grandma, but Mom thinks we’ll be able to move out by the spring. Grandma’s meals are getting worse, and we still argue sometimes, mostly over my curfew. She doesn’t think I should be at Justin’s past eight! I think we’ve gotten a little closer, though. She lets me play her guitar and even said I could use her basement for band practice after we move out. But I still have to paint the walls back to white before I go.And last, but not least, it took a lot of lessons from Justin and patience from me, but I did it! I got my license yesterday! I can’t wait to drive by myself.I’m pretty happy with my life right now, but I still think about Naomi every day. I’d sell my entire guitar collection for one more day with her. And my computer too. I’d dance with her in the rain and tell her how much she meant to me. I don’t know if that could’ve saved her. But it would’ve put a smile on her face. A real one. I don’t know if there is an afterlife, but if there is, I hope she knows her place in this world. It’s inside everyone who knew her. Naomi Quinn was the kind of person nobody forgets.
“I guess you figured out how to write, after all.” Justin smiled after reading my journal.
We sat on his bed, listening to the rain outside. I’d copied my last entry to hang on my wall. It would be there whenever I doubted myself, telling me to never go down without a fight.
“Every now and then, I have something worthwhile to say.”
His lips inched toward mine. “Was that sarcasm?”
“No.”
He smirked. “It should be. Because—”
I smacked his arm. “That cost you a kiss.”
“Everything you say is worthwhile to me. Even when you don’t let me finish a sentence.” He leaned in to kiss me, and I closed my eyes. But a pillow hit my face instead.
“Jerk.” I grabbed another pillow and tickled him until he dropped his. “Rule number one: You might want to hold on to your weapon.”
He squinted at me, shaking his head. “I think I’ve created a monster.”
I held the pillow over my head, like I was going to bring it down on him. But I leaned in and kissed him instead.
“Sneaky,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
He rolled off the bed and turned on some music. “Bus Stop” by the Hollies. Our song. It was perfect with the hiss of the rain. The wind filtered in, making me shiver. I nuzzled under his flannel sheets.
Justin slid into the bed and kissed me without another word. This felt different. More intense. He peeled my shirt off and brushed his fingers across my bare stomach. We’d almost had sex a few times. At least it felt close.
