Some of the sky ch 1

“Kalia, you need to get up one of these days,” my mother says. She says this as if I do not wake up every day. She means the time, but it still feels like a jab. I raise my puffed eyes to see her. She leans on my door frame. Her brows knitted in concern. I know she remembers when I didn’t wake up every day, when I didn’t want to wake up at all. The thought erased sleep from my head. You’re not allowed to be tired anymore when you were that girl.

“Yea, mom! I’m up,” I say with forced enthusiasm. Overly chipper as I pop up from the covers. “We’re going at ten, right?” I say, referring to church. It is Sunday morning, after all. What else do good girls do on Sunday? “Well, no,” She says, rubbing her temple.“I let you sleep a little late today, so it looks like twelve”. My smile internally crumples. “Oh,”. Twelve means we go to the other church, twelve means I don’t see the boy. The boy I put my hair in rollers for the night before. Twelve meant that hour in the shower meant nothing. “Okay, Mom, I need to change,” I say, gesturing toward the door. I know she doesn’t want to leave. She’s still scared of me. But she leaves, glancing at me feverishly a few times before disappearing around the corner.

The boy from church, the boy I had named countless times in my mind. I had waited all week to be perfect for him. The last time I had seen him he had looked at me, and when I saw he didn’t look away. I was bruised at the fact I wouldn’t get that today, that after waiting for what felt like years I wouldn’t get to see my nameless boy.

I get ready quickly, not caring anymore about what I look like. Throwing clothes around my room. I can’t find anything decent to wear. It’s too hot outside for my normal uniform of a sweater and jeans. I sift through my closet, deciding on a cornflower colored dress. It hits my knees and makes my skin look pale. But it will have to do. I rip my hair out of the rollers, and even though I wasn’t trying to look presentable anymore, I know I can’t escape the house without a comment from my mother. I run my hair under the sink, scrunching it so my waves make themselves apparent. I wish I had time for a full routine, but we need to leave in a few minutes anyway. I run out the door, carrying sandals.

“Why is your hair wet?” My mother says, her voice quiet over the engine of the car. “I don’t know, mom,” I reply, agitated though I don’t know why. Something about my mother, her quiet nature, her constant optimism. It makes my blood boil. I love her very much, but it’s so hard to keep myself together when she is the picture of perfection.

The drive isn’t long, it’s only about fifteen minutes from home. Traffic doesn’t exist in our small town, so we get there early.

The church is quiet, and the ceilings echo every single sound. The clicking of heels reverberates as people whisper their way into the sanctuary. It’s a bad habit, but I turn to find someone. A boy, someone to distract me from the boring service. My eyes land only a few rows in front of me. The boy isn’t very cute, but something about him draws my gaze. Maybe it’s his closed body language, signaling he is just as uncomfortable as I am. Maybe it’s how he’s wearing a t-shirt in a sea of button-ups. I decide to name him Poseidon. Poseidon because of his deep olive skin and dark hair. He looks like he belongs on a beach somewhere. For that, I love him.

In the service, I find myself glancing over at him, hoping to catch his gaze. Begging him silently to turn around and talk to me. He doesn’t, but that doesn’t stop me from staring at the back of his head. He doesn’t make my stomach jump like the boy I would be seeing. But I’ll make do without butterflies for the hour.

There is a moment where I think he might turn his head, might see the girl a few rows back. I toss my hair and part my lips. Trying not to focus on him, at least trying not to stare. I feel eyes lingering on me. But not Poseidon’s. I turn my head to see a boy. He looks older than me, maybe a year or two, probably a junior. His dark brown eyes rest on me, unabashedly staring. I have to bite back a restless grin. I chew on my cheek to keep my smirk in check. I almost instantly forget I was waiting for Poseidon to see me. The new boy has my full attention now.

I crane my neck a few times past my kneeling mother, reverently in prayer, to see him. I feel a jolt when I see him glance over. Feeling the let down when he isn’t. I try to be casual with my fervent looks, but I know that I must be staring. Part of me doesn’t care, maybe the interest will have him intrigued.

The church has never gone so quickly. After what feels like minutes of checking for New Boy’s infrequent looks, people begin to file out. I step out of my pew, feeling guilty about not listening to a single word the priest has said. “Woah there,” I hear, a voice connected to the hand on my shoulder. I whip around to see I’ve stumbled right into Poseidon. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” I say, still awkwardly keeping my feet planted where I’m blocking the exit. “You’re fine…Could you move though, please?” I flush with embarrassment. “Oh yeah, sorry,” I say, shuffling out of the church, too humiliated to rubberneck the New boy as he strides to his car. A shiny red truck, the perfect car for a boy like him, I think to myself.

I bite my cheeks again, not able to stop my lips from opening like stage curtains to reveal my teeth. “Omg Mom,” I say. “That boy, did you see him?” My mother turns her body toward me for a split second, swinging her purse, as if I’ve almost but not quite caught her attention. “I thought you had grown out of this boy crazy phase, Kalia!” she says with a laugh. “Oh, never,” I joke, waiting to see if she bounces a little bit more my way. But after her brief moment of good humor, she’s back.

The car ride home is an endless feature of my brief memory of New Boy, his hair, his eyes, his smile. I wonder if he thought anything of me, wonder if I stuck around. Left a brief impression.

When we get home, I feel like air. I bounce off my heels into the hall. My skin is electric with the taste of affection. I feel like living today, not just surviving. I want to eat the world whole right now. I stick music in my ears. Still feeling smile residue.

I want to get out into the day. I can feel sun on my skin through my windows, and it’s killing me not to walk down to the park. The one with the library and flowers, the kind with nameplates and information. I throw my dress off, not bothering to close my blinds for potential creeps. I throw on clothes, the type that make me look like a different girl. Make my breasts look full and my thighs a little thinner, which is fantastic for a tank top and leggings.

I strut out the door, letting it not fully close behind me. The sidewalk feels like an eternity, although I know the park is close by.

“Kalia!” I hear, I turn around and glimpse auburn hair. “Amelie!” I call back. I let my walking progress go to run and jump into a bear hug. “Woah, Kalia, you are glowing right now,” I beam at her. “Awww, must be all the time away from you!” Amelie is a year older and spends most of her time now at her new school. Ever since she switched freshman year, we haven’t had enough time to see each other, despite living just shy of a mile away. “Must be,” she says solemnly in a grim tone. “But don’t worry, we can get you dull and lifeless in no time.” her smile falters “Oh, no I’m sorry I didn’t mean to,”. Dull and lifeless, I know what she’s talking about. I keep smiling, ignoring the twinge of sadness edging its way in. “Amelie, don’t worry; you don’t have to tiptoe around anymore,”. Even though I still need it, I know it’s hard for others to keep up. It's easier to have thick skin than constantly need band-aids, right? There’s a beat of silence as she squirms, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, in that case, I will have you dull and lifeless again in no time. Where are you heading?” I think about changing my plans, maybe asking Amelie’s brother to drive us to the mall. But I really want to go to the park, or somewhere where I can feel the warmth of the sun on my back for a while. “Just the park,” I say. “All these options, and you chose the park?” she teases. “Think of all the boys you’re missing,” I almost blurt out about seeing New Boy today, how he looked at me. But I catch myself before Amelie thinks I’ve graduated to a stalker on top of everything. “Oh, there are boys, fishing boys. But still boys,” she laughs. “You know what, you’re right. Let's go find the pond dwellers.” I cover my face with my hand. I can tell she wants to have the old me back, someone she can laugh with. Today, I can be that Kalia for her. “Oh, Amelie, you’re still using the pond dweller's joke from like fourth grade?” She shrugs. “What can I say? My first kiss was a pond dweller, and he tasted like one too. It makes sense why the joke stuck around.” I giggle remembering when she ducked behind a tree with a boy named Jackson to lock lips for a single second before running away, “Oh my god Jackson, I haven’t seen him in years,” I say “I know right? We should round up every boy we traumatized one day,” we did indeed terrorize the neighborhood, before we hit puberty and realised boys didn’t like the loud and sassy girls. “Good idea, they won’t even recognize me, but you? I think they might go for the heart with you.”

She giggles, but into her phone. Likely talking to the guy of the week, I ask, “How’s school?” I ask. I know I’ll never be able to win her attention over whatever boy she has telling her she’s pretty. “Huh? Oh, school, school is fine.” I almost ask her who is keeping her so distracted, but I don’t want to come off bratty. She looks up from her phone. “Kalia?” she says, a little tentatively. “I don’t think I can go to the park,” she winces before adding, “Sorry,” I flinch. “Why? We like, just started walking,” I feel rude, but it’s true. “Well, Ethan just texted me. I think I might have to see him,”. “You’re ditching me for a guy named Ethan?”. It hurts a little to know that a random guy takes first place over the girl she’s known since diapers. “Ugh, I know, right.”. “Clearly, you don’t,” I joke. “But he’s hot and says he’ll be here in ten, so...” She turns her body away from me, already making her escape. “See you?” I won’t see her for a long time, I know that, but I still follow suit. “See you,” She blows a kiss at me and saunters away to a meeting point where God knows what will happen.

I try not to let her sudden departure dampen my mood, today was supposed to be a good day. I knew it when I saw New Boy, knew today had to mean something.

I manage to walk myself to the park, feeling the heat create pinpricks of sweat on my brow. It’s beautiful this time of year. With spring blossoming in every tree, creating halo’s of color. I was right about the fishing boys. They huddle around the pond, casting lines. When we were younger, me and Amelie would sometimes look into their buckets and gasp at the fish they caught. One time Amelie saw one that struck a nerve and she tried to release it, it made the boys furious.

I haven’t seen the boys in so long. I was maybe twelve the last time me and Amelie came down here, before her brother was old enough to be forced to drive us. Now I see them, I can barely recognize a few. But I do see Jackson, his bright blonde hair still looking like dandelion fuzz atop his head. Although, I'll admit he’s grown into his lanky body and freckles. Next to him is Aron, now tall and tan. God, I think, when did they get so hot? There are a few boys I don’t recognize in the group, probably added in those years I was gone.

I make my way over to the picnic table across the pond from them. Putting in earbuds to look like I'm actually doing something. I scroll through old texts, skip through playlists, and play games. Just to keep myself from staring. I’m constantly conscious of how my hair looks, blowing behind me, making sure I don’t squint into the wind. While I do nothing I think of New boy, what he might say to me. How if he had just bumped into me instead of Poseidon I might have been able to make an impression, maybe he would have wanted me. I can’t stop thinking about his crystal eyes, burning holes through me.

I must have zoned out, not even paying attention to the music in my ears. That must be why I don’t hear them coming up behind me. A boy slides in across from me, his hands reaching across the table to grab my phone.He looks oddly familiar, something in the smirk, or the way his eyes dance in hues of brown and black.“Talking to other boys babe? Really?” Wow, I think, How many other girls has he done this exact same thing to? It’s such a line I can tell, but my heart still picks up the pace. “Oh never!” I say, clutching my heart and making a hurt expression. It twists into a smile a second after, “Well in that case,” he says, a little confused by my quick response. Yeah, I can play this game again although, I may be a little rusty. “Whatchu know about fish girl,” this stumps me, what kind of pick up line is this? Fish? “Nothing,” I say, after a beat “Oh,” he says. Turning his face, begging for help from his friends “Nico bro!” says Jackson. So that’s his name, Nico. It’s perfect for that kind of guy. He’s hot, in the way that this kind of encounter makes sense. How many girls were right where I am? “I’m sorry about my buddy here,” Jackson says, trotting up to the table and is gesturing toward Nico. “He’s a little… Shy,” Nico shoves him hard and goes red. He cusses Jackson out, using words I’ve been taught never to use. I can tell he wants my approval, so I smile a half smile his way.

“So uh, can I get your number or…” He trails off “Nah let me just give you mine,” My hand now with my phone returned, starts pulling up my contacts app, “Sure,” I say “Oh um, ok” He leans a little closer, like he’s about to share a big secret “ 505,” He taps his fingers nervously “671,” I type furiously “9725” He sucks his teeth “I know you didn’t even put that in for real,” How many lines does this guy have? “I did,” I say dragging out the “d” in a way that makes me cringe. I flash my phone screen at him showing him I did. “Oh,” he says. Why is it that every time I respond with the same player tone he shuts up? What is he trying to do here? Try and come off innocent? It’s so obvious.

I stand up, knowing that the sun is going to set soon, still feeling the exhilaration of his presence on my skin, like electricity. But it almost doesn’t feel real. Maybe it’s because of how long I was gone. How stale the hospital made me, but I feel as unalive as ever. Not depressed, simply not real. How I felt under the gaze of new boy, his eyes making me center stage of a play I was never a part of. Although I know Nico is within reach I still can’t feel it.

“Wait!” He calls, a hint of desperation on his tongue “What’s your name,” He doesn’t say it like a question, it’s like a demand. “Kalia,” I breathe, my lips barely parting. “I like you Kalia,” After a breath of silence he adds “Marry me?” God, it would have been so sweet. “No, But I will always love you,” I say, feeling like a mirror image of him. Playing a game, even though I have everything to lose. He grabs my hand, not forcefully. It’s a gesture to tell me he wants me to stay. I don’t say anything, but I smile over my shoulder at him. For some reason I don’t feel the need to stay, wait for him. It feels freeing, it makes me unsure. “I love you!” He calls, without turning my head I say “Love you too,” like we’re old friends.

On the walk home, I shake. Feeling my phone in my hands. Begging the universe for a text. I picture him in my head, dark hair, dark eyes, olive skin. So familiar yet I can’t seem to place him. I think about that face, I can’t shake the feeling that I do know him, that he’s been in my life before. I think for a second it might be New Boy, but it’s stupid, New Boy had those blue eyes. “Ugh!” I say out loud, the frustration breaking my quiet state of mind.

My phone buzzes, a welcome distraction. But it’s not a distraction. It’s Nico, swooping in with another strategy

I miss you

Part of me breaks, for a reason I can’t explain. It’s a normal text? Yes it is a line, yes I know i’m not the first girl. I still burn a little at it though. Another text lights up my screen

Why weren’t u here this morning like at church I mean

Oh my God, it’s him. Nico is that boy, the one I spent all last night getting ready for. The one I would spend an hour daydreaming about every sunday. I’m giddy at the news. I jump up and down, “Yes, yes, yes!” I squeal, my utter excitement could power the city.

I race to my house, telling myself I won’t respond until I get home. It feels impossible not to reach into my pocket. Like an itch you just need to scratch. It all feels so good, until a voice starts hissing in my head “He won’t like a girl like you, baggage on baggage”. My heart sinks “You’re probably a joke you know? Just like you were with Eric,” It’s so cliche, God. “Shut up,” I say out loud. I outgrew the voice's childish taunts in the seventh grade. The voice hasn’t evolved past that, its basic taunts are meaningless. But then I remember Eric, although I don’t want to. Even though That was a year ago. How he seemed so interested. Until I found out he had a girlfriend, Monica. Who hated me, and told him to talk to me as a joke. It may have only been those few days but it stung.

I finally reach my house, my pace dulled by my brain's leveling mechanisms, keeping my joy in check. I fish out my phone, firing off the immediate response I had envisioned.

Slept in

It’s basic, I know. But I don’t want him to know how much I already want him. I don’t see bubbles, nothing signaling a reply. So I set down my phone, looking out the window to see the pink that had settled over the sky. I knew today would mean something. My smile feels unending, like the sky that rests atop the day that felt so real.

My phone buzzes, and my pulse leaps in every vein.

Tryna do smthn tmrw

I wish I could explain just how that makes me shatter.