Often, I wondered if she could hear me in her little piece of Heaven. There were times right after she died that I thought she was haunting me. Not haunting like in a bad way; I just felt like she was still around me. Like the night I couldn’t fall asleep and suddenly there was a fragrant rush of the scent of her perfume filling the air around me. I walked out into the hallway to see if the scent was there too, but it wasn’t. It was only in my room.
Or the day I found pennies everywhere I went. It’s been said that if you find lots of pennies, it’s the spirit of someone who’s passed on giving you a sign. On the ground near my car, there were two pennies. Resting on the passenger seat, there was another one. Inside my locker at school, there were three of them. In each pocket of my jeans, they were hidden. Even at the bottom of my sneakers!
Then there was Barry Manilow, as in Barry Manilow’s “Copacabana”. It was my mother’s favorite song, and every time I turned on the radio one week, that song was playing. On one of my preset radio stations that never before had played a Barry Manilow song, there it was blasting loud and clear. Barry’s voice singing about Lola with yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to there. Even when I went to the mall, there it was. Copacabana. I imagined my mother singing her heart out in Heaven, probably annoying her neighbors.
****
It was Sunday afternoon. The last time I had spoken to Brandon was when he dropped me back home Friday night after the fiasco at the Poe party. I claimed to be sick and asked him to be quiet during the drive because my head hurt. At least the headache was true. He had texted me throughout the weekend to see how I was doing, and I would wait a while and then text back that I was still pretty out of it and would be taking a nap. He offered to come over with chicken soup that his mother had made, but I refused. I felt like a horrible person.
It was like I carried this cinderblock on my shoulders. A stone carved of my secrets. My family, my pain, my fears. Even though my rational side told me that I was being an idiot. The irrational side of me — the one that was winning this battle — knew that if he found out about my family he was going to judge me or pity me. Maybe without even meaning to, he would pity me a little. That could cause him to see me differently. Or talk to me differently. I didn’t want to do anything that would change his impression of me. He seemed to like me a lot, and I didn’t want anything to change that.
Monday morning. I didn’t feel like running my usual route outside. The thought of running past the cemetery where I first found the balloon sent a bad chill over my body. Most days I didn’t mind, but after ignoring Brandon all weekend I just couldn’t do it. So I decided to go to school early and run the outdoor track. It wasn’t as scenic, obviously, but it was mindless, and that was kind of what I needed.
After I had completed my fifth mile, I realized the irony of my run. There I was going in circles, ending up nowhere. Much as I was in my life. I didn’t pursue anything. I didn’t accomplish anything. I ran but never entered races. I studied but never pushed to get A’s. I dressed appropriately, nothing that ever stood out. I had been a wallflower my entire school career. I had one best friend, and that was it. And I was dating a guy I was afraid to tell one of the main facets of my life. With the heaviness of my mind giving me a headache, I circled the track twice more, completing a sixth mile, and all I could envision was a hamster on its stupid exercise wheel. Going around, again and again.
I showered and changed in the girls’ locker room. Then I went to my car to drop off my running gear. It was already warm at eight a.m. so I left my driver side window partially open. At my locker, I was gathering my books for class when Zoe bounded up behind me.
“Why have you ignored me all weekend?” she demanded. “I mean, being your best friend is supposed to deem me priority in your life.”
I checked my hair in my locker mirror; it was a wet, wavy mess so I threw it into a topknot bun. “I’m sorry. I just needed to hermit-out this weekend.” When I closed my locker I got a good look at her face. She looked like she was a champagne bottle whose cork was about to burst. “Okay, you have something to tell me, don’t you?”
“I went out with Rob Saturday!” She beamed.
“Who? Wait, Rob… as in Freshly Made Rob?”
She laughed. “Yes, and he’s so awesome! Shame on you for never pointing him out to me before.” She shoved my shoulder.
“You had a boyfriend before, remember?” We began walking to class.
Zoe hugged her chemistry book to her chest. “I’m telling you, Rissa, he’s so totally the one it’s not even funny.”
I let out a loud “Ha!” which I regretted when she snapped her head toward me. “I mean, that’s awesome. For real.” I squeezed her shoulder.
“Thanks,” she said, still beaming. “Hey, is there anything wrong?”
She was looking at me with that all-knowing glare. “What? Me? No, everything’s fine.” I turned my attention to the ceiling.
She grabbed my arm and pulled me into the closest girls’ bathroom. After checking to see if all the stalls were empty, she stood before me with her hands on her hips. “Spill it.”
I opened my
