This entire book is dedicated to talented, beautiful people who just need to let themselves breathe...and to my partner in crime, inkdusk, because she has always dealt with me and loved me no matter what the circumstances. I love you Girlie, always. (Snape face).
MARCH…
Thesewords probably won't go anywhere, but there’s a chance that they may take flight. Perhaps they shall be my belligerent soldiers, ready to fight. My thoughts could open doorways never perceived to be closed. Just cracks in the alcoves, until what I know, paints them into existence. But who’s to say which way they shall go, belligerent soldiers, or frozen in the unknown.
My silver eyes burn these words into the skin of my therapist. They’re tired of the monotonous droning of his cracking lips….
“You know .. Ms. Devlin.. we cannot label your issues based on an ‘Irish temper.’ There is really something going on with you. It is my job to help you figure out exactly what that is.”…. Condescending prick….
“Irish temper.” I laugh to myself, smiling sweetly at his blanketed eyes. “Mr. Kepler, we both know that I don’t have a temper… just an interesting view on handling my problems..” With every word, I make sure my star eyes twinkle.
“W-w-w-well.. Ms Devlin.. You’re…umm… well your records… it’s just that they don’t seem to correspond with your…umm…current.. State of composure… “
My insides scream with amusement. Oh Mr. Kepler, you’re such a sucker for a great smile…
**************************
Outside the therapist’s office, rain is dousing my fire. My fervently red bangs are glued to pale cheeks. The stars shaven into the left side of my scalp are drowning.. Stars need to breathe.
When the bus lumbers to a stop at my feet, my mind is fully distracted by the competing clouds.. Gray loves to overtake the white, slowly ripping it of its purity.. Until they are dark inside. I cant help sympathizing with those clouds; There’s gray inside me too. I am only shades, from the silver in my eyes and the charcoal of my trench coat, to chipping black that clings to dagger-like nails…. The horn honks. I step from the dreamily dismal outside into the crinkled can of transportation.
Edging my faded combat boots through the aisle, I see them, my fellow bus riders. There is nothing more noticeable then their communal view of me…. Me, with the frays of a black skirt and ripped, pink and black stockings, peeking out beneath worn trench coat. Me, with my pouted lips and eyes daring for confrontation. I know how they see me. Such adversary is palpable in the air.
Crunching myself into the corner of this bus seat, I let my mind once again wander to a source of gray. Mr. Kepler was right. My spontaneous paroxysms, briefly summarized by my records, do not “correspond” with my “current state of composure.” Honestly, I am still confused about my latest transgression. After all, it had been a good day.
The constant trumpeting of my heart had mercifully calmed. As I nibbled on what little food lay before me, Rubz(Ruby), with her willowy body slumped in amusement, started in on our ritualistic argument.
“ABz!!! Why wont you eat?! You will waste away to nothing; just a toothpick with some red fluff!” I couldn’t help but laugh as she affectionately plucked at my glowing bangs.
“Oh Rubz! Don’t you know I am just trying to keep myself thin… Compared to you, I’m as round as a pumpkin!” I winked and Alec chuckled at both of us, barely looking up from his poetry.
Rubz and Alec have quite the dramatic relationship. Ruby is madly infatuated with Alec. I cannot count the times that I’ve listened to her swoon…Did you see the way his eyes lit up at my Shakespeare quote? Did you see?! I think he likes me! He must like me!! But no… I won't ask… He probably doesn’t.. no…
Interestingly enough, Alec’s sea glass green eyes did light up at Ruby’s clumsy attempts to court him. Those eyes were nonchalantly admiring her when Libby Trott galloped to where he sat.
“HEY FOX! Get your ass out of that chair!” Alec stumbled to his feet, being yanked by the pint-sized princess. I started to chuckle, but I could feel Rubz burning beside me. Her cherry blossom lips puckered in; her soft jaw clenched in opposition. My fingertips started to burn as Libby squeaked and Alec started to sputter.
“ALEC! YOU’RE A GENIUS! *insert giggle*” Libby leapt to wrap her tiny frame around Alec’s 6 feet 4 inches. Her sandy curls bounced and her eyes, like melted amber, radiated as her smile widened, crinkling her freckled nose.
“HUH?!” was all Alec could respond with. His tan cheeks reddened as his perplexed eyes studied Ruby. They seemed to be pleading for her understanding. But Rubz was scorching my skin. I could feel this phantom of fury clinging to her expressionless face. The hooded figure hypnotized its victim while reaching unholy nails to scar my skin.
The shadow, while concealing its face, shifted as the words “I PASSED!!!!!” careened into the air. I followed the implied eyes. The claws sank into my arm as Libby commandeered Alec’s lips. Ruby grimaced, but her phantom had already leaked into my veins. Before I knew what I was doing, my chair was skidding into a group of yelping girls. My legs hauled me to Libby, and my fist was breaking the air. Suddenly, as though my ears regained their will for sound, I heard Alec gasp, Libby whimper, Ruby inaudibly chuckle, and hellhounds barking behind me.
*****************************************
The bus lurches to a stop and I find myself once again wandering with the present. Lazily, my eyes move to the door for a moment, but I see nothing. This crinkled can has halted for air. Annoyed, my silver stars flick back to the window; eyelashes counting the falling rain.
Suddenly, the seat beside me buckles, and I turn with arms drawn. But my prediction of malevolence is countered. A girl, with a torrent of black curls, is analyzing me with crystal eyes so light that blue barely tints her irises. Her soft lips bunch in a crooked smile and there is a smudge of charcoal on her olive nose.
“You know, that stuff they give you does more bad than good. You’re smothered. I can feel it.” Her brow furrows with a learned edge I cannot help but deem genuine.
“…uh?…” I love how eloquent I am around beautiful women.. But it is when she let out an ungodly snort that I suddenly find my intellect again. My head is clear, yet my belly aches to laugh with her.
Her eyes keep tracing my features. I feel as though I am posing for a serious portrait there is a sneaking suspicion in the back of my mind that when the canvas is turned, her portrayal will not be of my skin.
“You said what they give me does bad… what are you talking about?” That wisdom behind her smile is baffling.
“The pills. The counselors. The community service. It’s all useless shit.” The curse slid off of her tongue like sweating honey. “Stars need to breathe ya know.” He black fringe of lashes winks. The lump in my throat drops.
“What did you just say?” My eyes want to burrow deep, but hers are shields. Pale and protecting. How did she know?
The bus stops again.
“Goodbye, Star,” she says with a smile, and her lips brush my cheek. I feel as I’ve been kissed by snow.
*************************************************
The seat feels barren without the burden of her weight. Heaven’s tears still veil my face, but they diverge in an imprint of her lips. I cannot help but lose my mind and rewind… “Stars need to breathe ya know.” ….. Yeah.. I know. I know perfectly well, and rain is not the only thing suffocating wonder. This town is a sedentary qualm… black smoke to toy terrorized lungs…
The old storefront is kept together by blood, sweat, and band-aids. SUPERMARCHE, scrawled with a bit of clack paint, can barely cling upon the dangling sign. The hunter green panels of the supermarket are worn to the red paint beneath, as though you can peer underneath, to the muscular inner workings… yet the windows shine with pride..
“EEEEEEKKKK” The door needs oil. The walls are cluttered with eccentric murals of passionate scenes from French movies. The woman behind the medieval register is a caricature or a crumpled paper clown, drawn by a child armed with markers…
………..And I sigh with relief……
“Aiobheann!” Astrid coos, her voice drenched with molasses and French heritage. She scurries across the floor to bless me with bise.
“Astrid,” I wish I could take her home with me…. I want her as ma maman. She is such a warm woman.
“Now see here, mon chouchou! You better be staying out of trouble! Sois une bonne fille!”
Smiling deviously, I say, “I am always a good girl… toujours.” Her chuckle penetrates the air like an adoring hearth.
Without hesitation, the tread of my boots pulls the floor behind me, until I am before the yoo-hoo and popcorn. They’re always beside each other. Astrid keeps them specifically arranged for Rubz, Alec, and me.
We have a tradition. Every time I am hauled into The Great Kepler’s office, Alec, Rubz, and I meet at my house for a night of vacuous, cheaply produced movies. It’s ritual. Tonight will be our six celebration of my infamy. I cannot wait to hear what the hellhounds are hissing now that I’ve accosted on of their own.
Libby Trott is one of the most popular girls at Landsend High. Being a prodigal soccer player and effortless beauty, Libby was made for her fame. When she moved from Houston in 8th grade, the hellhounds wasted no time caressing her into the arms of their cult.
The hellhounds are my beloved enemies. I practically drool at the sight of them, but their scorn burns so hot it steals my moisture. Clara, Libby, Courtney and Lynn, I was torn between hissing at their mention and treating their tread as blessed.
Libby is the only one that did not genuinely hate me or my fellow peasants…When Alec helped her pass Art History, she did not demand for his assistance… Libby is a sweetheart… I’ve always admired her for it… So why did I nearly break her jaw.
*****************************************
The rain is inexorable. It makes me want to try and catch each angel tear. Maybe if I drink the liquid of heaven, my gray will be purified. My conscience might be as clear as that beautiful girl’s eyes. Where did she come from? The bus had halted for air, so maybe she was wind. Wind trapped inside a shell to tempt me.
“Aiobheann!” Rosa is calling from the front. “Aiobheann we’re at your house!” The only thing my mother has ever done right was buying a house directly next to a bus stop.
“Thanks Rosa.” I hope my smile masks my tired confusion. The girl has spent but moments with me.. Why am I letting myself imagine charcoal smudged wind? My combat boots crunch the slick grass below as I try to reinforce my earlier mindset. This is just like the way I am with the hellhounds; tempted by their coverings and scratched by their spurs.
My fingertips slip clumsily off the doorknob. I fight the moisture a second time, stepping into my house… Why are the lights on?… Didn’t I lock the door?… Instantly my mind is ablaze… Who is in my house? Grabbing a gothic sword hanging by its hilt, I edge towards the source of noise. Bringing the sword above my head, I am ready to swing..
“Hey Abz.” Alec murmurs. Ruby and he are burrowed into my couch, nearly on top of each other and mindlessly staring at the flat screen.
“REALLY GUYS?!?!?!?!??WHAT THE FUCK?! HOW’D YOU GET IN HERE?!” I am huffing from adrenalin unused, and the sword clatters to the ground.
Ruby’s face breaks away from the TV. “Oh Sweety! Shush! We aren’t going to steal your precious antiques.” She adds a sarcastic wink for good measure. Rubz rests her head on Alec’s shoulder, content; he beams.
I return the sword to its resting place, and carry dripping bags to the kitchen. I snatch three glasses from the cherry cabinet to the left of the sink. Turning to throw the popcorn into the microwave, an image catches my eye threw the window. I immediately stop. The popcorn drops to the floor, and I watch with the corner of my eye.
It’s her….dancing without any burdens besides the grass beneath her feet. Ebony curls bounce, detached from her body; they are the little serpents licking at the air. And the air embraces her. Maybe she is wind, at home with the droplets.
I turn to catch her glance, to smile eloquently and grant an invitation; but she is gone. There is nothing left but a whisper in my imagination to acknowledge that she was here….
Walking into the living room with the ceremonious platter of popcorn and yoo-hoo, I interrupt whispers and giggles. Slamming the platter onto the coffee table, I snap.
“If you are going to start making out any time soon, can you please making this thing going on between the two of you OFFICIAL. This way I don’t have to listen to all the confusion later?!”
Alec’s smile turns to surprise. Ruby is scarlet. “O-on-n that note..” Alec stutters, “I forgot to call my mom… maybe I should go do that… “ He gulps, and is gone.
SHIT. “Rubz… I’m sorry… I am so sorry…”
“You really think he was going to kiss me?!” She is all smiles. Thank god. My heart is in my toes. Why did I do that?
“Well it looked like it.” My voice is as sweet as I can muster.
Ruby snatches a bowl and starts popping kernels into her mouth. As I sit next to her, she begins “Well he has been sorta flirty smiling a lot an…”
What was that girl doing dancing in my grass? What did she want from me? And why would she kiss me ? Not that I didn’t enjoy it… but…
“ABZ! HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOO”
“Huh?” Ruby rocks me back to earth.
“You just started…smiling…and like… blushing… Did anything happen on the bus today?”… her eyes are knowing.
“W-well,” I feel my throat stutter and catch. “There was this girl….and.. She kissed me…”
Ruby is elated. “ON THE LIPS?!”
“No..no…NOOOOO.. On the cheek.” My smile is hushed. I feel my cheeks ardently hum. My stars are breathing.
Ruby makes me tell her everything down to the charcoal on Busgirl’s nose. Busgirl: it’s her new name. I would kill to know what she’s truly called.
A name is something special, to which we either mold ourselves or rebel against. It is the label for the vision our parents have of us and our future. For example: Me, Aiobheann Rose Devlin. My mother graced me with such an interesting and elegant name; or so she thought. Gaelic names are beautiful, but did she have to give me one NO ONE could pronounce? Every new year during my elementary education, I heard “A-bo-HE-ann” Middle school was when Ruby came up with my new identity.
“ ABZ and RUBZ!” She marketed to me with a toothy smile. “We’ll be the ‘z’ girls!’
Now no one calls me Eveen with fake Irish accents coating their sluggish tongues.
“So when are you going to see her again?” Ruby’s voice is candy coated with optimism.
“Probably never.” I murmur and cut to the next subject as Rubz opens her lips to protest. “So how has the school dealt with my suspension? Is everyone on the verge of tears from missing me so much?”
“Hardly, “ she snorts. “The hellhounds have launched a campaign against you, and Libby’s bruise doesn’t seem to be fading… It’s like a constant reminder of what you did… People are really mad at you, Abz.. Like really mad.. And it’s not that I’m scared for you.. Well no.. I guess I am.. Just be careful.” Ruby is pleading with me to not do anything stupid again. I can't blame her. She loves me for reasons only god knows why, and she doesn’t want to see me hurt. Ruby is more of a mother to me then BM (bio-mother) will ever be.
“Shush… Sweety..” I say in my most soothing voice. I can feel the anxiety billowing around her. It hangs low and is suffocating her. My star needs to breathe. I feel my mind reaching out as though it has silver wisps of fingers. It pulls away the shadow that hides her face. I feel her apprehension surge through me. If only this wasn’t a product of my imagination and she really would glow like the vision I believe I see.
Alec steps hesitantly into the room, phone in hand. He quickly surveys Ruby, not caring to look me in the face.
“What’d your mom say?” Ruby asks, her voice testing the waters between them.
His face seems relieved that she spoke. “She said it was fine as always. She seemed stressed though… Anthony was crying in the background.” Anthony is Alec’s 6-month-old baby brother.
“Well let’s hope he’s okay.” I let regret seep into my eyes. Alec gives me a warm smile, and I know all is forgotten. He keeps leaning with his eyes towards Ruby. He must want to talk to her badly.
“Um... I’m going to go get changed,” I say hurriedly, pulling at my damp clothing for explanation.
“Mhm,” Ruby murmurs, still popping kernels at her lips, glued to the television. Alec mouths “Thank you.” I smile and exit as quietly as I can.
My room is on the second floor and to the right. No one would expect what I am by peering at the facade of the hallways. They are a honey tinted beige with simple white trim. Sparkling wood floors are nesting areas for ornate cherry tables. Landscape art and heavy murals are the only decorations. My house is so dull I could cry. Then, there is my room.
I push open the door to find Rocco asleep on my purple bed. He burrows into the comforter as I enter, his calico body at home in the darkness.
I stand in the center, analyzing. What would The Great Kep say about my room? Dragging my eyes over every inch, I can here his voice disturb the sunken silence.
“Ms. Devlin’s room expresses a juvenile mind desperate for attention. Almost everything is dark in color besides the neon paint splattering the walls. This, and her macabre sketches and posters, express her need to show that she is dark, and irrevocably alone.”
What ‘therapists’ like Mr. Kepler do not understand is that my prognosis cannot be pulled out of a hate like a white bunny. Yes, I have Joel Peter Witkin posters, but that does not mean I am about to sew cadavers together or join them in the afterlife.
Pulling off my clothes, I toss them into my purple hamper and being rummaging through my closet. However, my mind is not with my fingertips, but at the bay window, peering to see her skirt kiss the grass. If my name is Star, then she is Whisper I have never seen someone exist in such subtle colors, while captivating silence.
My mind feels like its grasping every object, testing it for solidity. But they keep retreating from my subconscious. Everything is fading into impressionistic polka dots. Everything except her. She is a bastion.
Pulling a black top over my head, I see my room displayed behind a curtain of fire. I wonder what she would say if she saw my room; how she would analyze me. “Stars need to breathe ya know.” Her voice rings in my ears.
I tread lightly down the stairs. I hear the hum of the TV in the other room and turn to follow it. I wonder why Alec and Ruby aren't talking...... As I barge into the room, I am invisible, invisible and gawking. Alec and Ruby have decided that this was the perfect opportunity to begin sucking face on my couch.
*****************************************************************
Laying in bed, I rewind today over and over. This must be one of those remarkable days that shall never be outshone. There is not enough ‘magic’ in the world to create shock at these volumes day after day. I wont ever see her again. That was a goodbye kiss. I need to pull myself out of this intellectual revelry. This is not who I am. This is not how I think.
This is just like the hellhounds. I am filled to the brims with horny hallucinations. I am in Landsend. I am the only lesbian I know of. What’s the point of even dreaming? A girl like that must have boys begging to be drawn in the same charcoal that dotted her nose.
These are only horny hallucinations. They wont ever be anything more. Right now I need to steel myself from the world and prepare to be berated. I need to prepare for the anger of many a woman’s scorn. For hell hath no fury like it.
end March