Just Around the Corner to the Right

Chapter 1

  “Wake up” She slams my door open my door without a second thought. I open my eyes to her face glaring at me. “Get out! I am having company over and I can’t have you screwing it up for me!” She slams my door closed, nearly ripping it off its hinge as she storms out of my room. I look at my alarm clock as it glares 5:00 am at me. Her company wouldn’t be over until the evening and she no doubt has gone back to bed. My mother hates me.

  As I contemplate actually ignoring her she barges back into my room. So much for the idea of her going back to bed. She grabs onto my hair and yanks me out of bed as stars dart across my eyes. “Didn’t you hear me?” She spits into my ear. I don’t answer. I’m smarter than that. “Get out!” She shoves me towards the door. I grab my sweater before she can push me all the way out of my room. The house is dark as she rushes me towards the door. She opens it and shoves me outside without a second thought, and slams the door. I pull the sweater over my head and start walking. Here’s the thing about walking at 5 in the morning, you have a lot of time to think.

  It’s not the first time, and no doubt it’s not the last time I have been treated like this. I’m 17 years old and I have spent more days fearing for my life than living. If there was someone I could have turned to before they aren’t there now. My mother’s treatment of me is nothing but embarrassing now that it’s gone on for so long. No one would believe me anyways. That’s something my mom is good at, the best at when you think about it. She is always careful when she hits me. Never to be seen but there to remind me what a mistake and a waste of space I am to her. And if anyone knew, I don’t know how I could ever stand the piteous look that would come across their eyes.

  It’s a Sunday in November here in our small town. The leaves have started to fall and crinkle under my worn out sneakers I had slept in. I’m glad I was too tired to take them off now. I grab a rubber band off my wrist and tie up my long brown tresses into a neat bun. I walk until I reach the swing set at the park near the apartment my mother and I live in. I sit on the swing and grab the chains so hard the specks of rust on them dig into my hands. I kick my feet and start to pump them, making myself fly higher and higher until I feel as if I can touch the sky. I close my eyes and for a second I can pretend like everything is normal. I can imagine living in the big houses on the hill the kids at my school live in. I can almost believe I am worth something to somebody. I can pretend that the money my mother makes at her job isn’t spent on booze. I can nearly grasp the idea that maybe someday things will be better. Despite the safety closing my eyes brings I open them. I remember I am just Katelyn Wires and nothing will change anytime soon no matter how badly I want it to.

  I want to stay at the swings all day. Getting higher and higher until it’s impossible for me to come down. I can’t though. I know have to keep walking so that I don’t loose my imaginary safety of clear thought. I walk into town and down Main Street, and by now people are starting to trickle in for end of the week shopping.

Several Grocery stores and markets ranging from the farmers market to the general liquor store line the streets of this small town. There is an apartment complex and a park, and then there is “The Hill”. “The Hill” is where a majority of our population resides. There are so many students that live on the hill that for the one’s who don’t live there, well let’s just say for me, home and school aren’t much different. If you’re lucky you’re ignored but I don’t think I was ever meant to have luck grace me with its presence. Take for example the fact that walking down the street now are Amanda and Grace.

  Here is the thing about the Popular Girls at, Eastwood High School; they are the root of evil. They walk around daily with satin on their shoulders conducting the destruction of anyone and everyone they deem not worthy. And if my mother doesn’t find me worthy why should they be any different?

  “Hey loser. Why are you here? It’s not like you have money to buy things on this street.” Amanda snickers at me.

“Amanda, what if she is selling herself on the street.” Grace adds.

“Grace that is so disgusting! But its probably true” Amanda laughs as they walk away.

The whole time this is happening I stare at the wall to my right. When I look ahead I see him.

 Jamie is the star quarterback at Eastwood, the city’s golden boy, and the current most wanted bachelor at my school. He is also extremely gorgeous and to top it off, wealthy beyond my dreams, due to both his parent’s being the in demand plastic surgeons of our town. And right now he is looking at me as if I am a wounded war soldier. I turn on my heel before he can humiliate me even further.

  I walk to the lake behind the general store. In the winter it freezes over and becomes a solid ice rink. I used to sneak out at night and practice skating on it with a pair of stolen skates.. But since my mother’s late night beatings I haven’t found the courage much less the strength to skate in years. Right now the lake is deserted and still liquid. I look down into its black core and just stare at the still reflection of me. Hollow cheeks and full lips in a constant frown lie beneath my blue eyes. The eyes staring back are blank, seeming to go on forever.

I leave the lake and walk the town limits until sunset. I make my way home, hoping my mother is conked out on our worn out couch. I would rather not start tomorrow with fresh bruises. No such luck as I walk through the door. My mother’s cold eyes look at me as I open the door to our apartment. I have seen these eyes too many times to pretend they are something they aren’t. I look around the apartment and see her guests turn to face me. I look at my mother, as if to say come at me now! It’s dangerous to play this game with her. She won’t hit me while her guests are here, but if she isn’t too tired by the time they’re gone I will  face the worst of her wrath. I contemplate going back outside when my mother’s cold voice slurs, “Katelyn, sweetie, did you have fun at the movies?”

“Yes mother.” I reply, playing along.

“Well you must be tired, off to bed. Now.” She says.

  As I walk past her she pinches my arm so hard I nearly scream, but I don’t. I walk to my room and sit on my bed. I stare at the four walls and hold back the tears that threaten to break through the surface. Screaming, crying, they don’t stop her, only make her try harder. I listen for the sign that the party is over. It’s not until midnight that I hear my mother sigh and turn of the lights. I hold my breath as she starts to walk towards her room, waiting to see if she will pass mine over. I breathe a sigh of relief when she does. I think about how I will make it through school tomorrow as I climb into bed, fully dressed.

  I wake up at 6 o’clock and start to get ready. I am so quiet trying not to wake my mother that I know if was to drop a pin I would hear it as if it were a clap of thunder over head. I grab myself a string cheese from our fridge. I haven’t eaten since Saturday morning and decide to risk my mother’s wrath when I get home for taking the food. I close the door behind me when I walk out and start my walk to school. It’s freezing outside, and I could take the bus if I needed too, but I made that mistake once and do not plan on repeating it. Busses aren’t meant for people like me to ride; they are a trap for the feeble to fear and the strong to remind us of who they are. I listen to the beat of my steps and match it to my heart beat. Sometimes, when I am really quiet that is all I hear, the steady, predictable, beating of my heart.

  I turn the corner and walk into the school. I walk to my homeroom as the kids trickle in with me. I haven’t used my locker since freshman year. That was a mistake, much like the bus. I knew I would only have my books get ruined if I kept them in there, and I don’t have the money to replace them. So I carry everything I need in a backpack I’ve had since third grade. It was a gift my teacher had given me when she saw I came to school using a zip lock bag to carry my school supplies. As embarrassed as I was to be given this charity it was far more humiliating not to have the back pack.

  I look watch the door as people come into the classroom. It’s not a big class and most of the kid’s share a class or two with me. I pull out a notebook, when someone sits next to me. I nervously set my notebook on the desk and start pulling at the fraying ends of my sleeves. I have seen this done before, someone sits next to me and as soon as the teacher isn’t looking starts to steal my things. I don’t understand why they would want the few supplies I have, but they do, and I am far to scared to stop them.

  I am scared to look to see who will make me their next victim, but I know I need to see who it is so I know who not to blame if anyone ever did ask, although I doubt someone would. So when I see Jamie sitting next to me I feel my face turn as pale as the lined notebook paper on my desk. The desks sit two to a table and I see plenty of open desks as I look around to avoid his gaze. I open my mouth to tell him he doesn’t need to sit with me when the bell rings.

  The teacher is already at the front of the room and taking role call when I get the note next to my hand. I unfold it and read one word at the top. “Hi.” it says in boyish scrawl. I shake my head at him and hand him back the note without writing him back. He starts to write on it again. “You know most people say hi back.” And he slides it back over to me. I just shake my head no again and start to copy down notes. He doesn’t say anything for the rest of the period. When the bell rings I rush to get up grabbing my notebook and heaving my backpack over my shoulder and run out.

   I dodge through the hall way to get to my next class, which just so happens to be P.E. which also happens to be with Amanda and Grace. I take a deep breath as I push the locker room door open. I walk past a few aisles as I reach my P.E. locker. Like my actual locker I don’t use it. I carry my P.E. clothes in my backpack and quickly change to avoid anyone seeing the healing and newly forming bruises that scatter my back like a connect the dots. We are running today so I lace up my shoes and walk out. I figure I can outrun most of the kids but know I should pretend like I can’t and be the slowest runner. I get into place and start to run. I keep a steady pace and am relaxed until Amanda and Grace slow down. I nearly run into her and when she yells, “Watch it, Freak!” I almost trip over Grace’s extended leg. I catch myself before I do and start running the fastest I ever have. I finish before anyone else and ask the coach if I can change and go to the nurse. He says sure not even bothering to comment on my time which I am sure is at a record breaking high. I run into the locker room and change. I don’t plan on going to the nurse so I wander the halls for the remainder of the period.

  It isn’t until lunch when I see Jamie again. I am sitting up in a tree in the quad. We aren’t supposed to but I am so high up most of the monitors don’t notice me, and the ones who do don’t seem to care all that much. I am watching, hidden as Amanda tries to flirt with him. I laugh to myself at her unsuccessful attempt. At least I thought I was laughing to myself. I see Jamie look up and right at me. His eyes flicker with confusion and laughter. I stare back because there isn’t anywhere else to look and frankly if there was something else to see I doubt I could have torn my eyes away from his. Some people do that to you though. They hold you in their grasps no matter how badly you want them to let go.

Chapter 2

  Surprise, surprise… as soon as I walk through the front door, a fist whacks me across the face. This is new. I know there will be a bruise tomorrow morning just from the way my jaw stings. Before I have time to recover another one fist hits me throwing me to the ground. I try to react and stand up, but blow after blow starts to keep me down. No words are said as my mother pounds her manicured fists against any body part she can find. I close my eyes just waiting for it to be over. Slowly I fade in and out of conciseness until there is only black.

  I come to in what I presume is an hour. I am still lying by the front door. I stand up despite my body’s aching protests. I gain my balance by leaning against the dining room counter. I look for my mother and when I don’t see her I presume she is in her room. I slowly make my way to the bathroom to look how bad it is.

  I stare in the mirror with disbelief. My lip is swollen but not cut. My nose crusted with blood and my left eye starting to become an ugly shade of purple. I plan out how I am going to hide what are sure to be obvious marks the next morning. I clean up the blood and go to the kitchen to get some ice. My stomach growls at the sight of all of the food. I glance at the clock on the stove it reads 1 am. I was out longer than I thought. I creep back into my room and apply the ice. I stare at my walls again, just thinking of how much I wish things would change.

  I wake up the next morning at my usual time. I start to get ready and avoid a mirror until the last minute. When I finally examine the damage I realize it is far worse than I expected. The swelling in my lip is gone but it is the bruise around my eye that scares me. I dig through a drawer until I find the foundation and cover up.

  It hurt so much to apply the makeup I almost cried and gave up. But I couldn’t stand a day in the house with that woman. So I suck it up and leave the house. I walk to school and act like it never happened.

  I realize how bad the black eye is in homeroom. Jamie sits next me again despite me shaking my head no as he comes over. He takes one look at me, and what I think for sure is a look that he was going to run for the hills, turns out to be him horrified at the bruise around my eye. He sits down and as the bell rings he pulls out a piece of paper and writes: are you okay?

I contemplate writing back.

Yes

I slide the paper back over to him without looking up. He writes back.

Are you sure?

I sigh and write back again.

Yes

He takes the paper and writes for what seemed like forever.

So what were you doing in the tree yesterday?

I stare at the lines as they dare me to answer.

Why do you care?

Good thinking, I say to myself. Avoid the answer.

I don’t know. That is a good question. But so is mine.

I try not to smile. I think about all of the reasons why I shouldn’t be talking to him. Yet here I am. I write back.

Touché.

He reads the note and smiles. He tries to write me back but I shake my head. He folds up the note and starts copying what our teacher puts up on the board.

  Things are like this for the next couple of days. My mother hasn’t hit me since that Monday, but I know not to be fooled. Everyday Jamie sits next to me he writes me a note, only now I write back. I don’t know why I do but it feels good. Then on Friday he is already at the table when I walk in.

  The morning hadn’t particularly terrible, although I could have done without the put downs from my mother. I walk in a sit at my seat. I start pulling at my jacket when he slides the note to my side of the desk. I read it.

Can I ask you something? I nod my head.

“Katelyn, look at me, please.” I look up surprised he is actually talking to me. His eyes capture me again and I have to force myself to pay attention to what he is saying.

“Katelyn, umm… well I was wondering if you were going to the game tonight?” I wrack my brain for what he could be talking about. What game? Oh right the football game.

“Oh umm, I wasn’t planning on it. Sorry.” He looks at me as if he didn’t hear what I said. I repeat it a little louder. Disappointment washes over his face.

“Oh, well would you like to?”

  Would I? I have no idea. It’s not an issue if I wanted to. My mother wouldn’t notice I was gone, but did I really want to spend my whole night trapped where any number of things could happen, and so few witness who wouldn’t be involved in my torment around.

“I don’t think so. Sorry.” I look down at my notebook, scared to see the disappointed look come over his face again.

“Well, umm are you doing anything this Saturday?” I look back up. I was so sure that he would give up. Most of the people I disappointed have. I shake my head.

“Would you like to do something, with me?” He asks. I stare in disbelief. Cliché as it is I wanted to believe that he was here to save me. I nod my head without thinking, and look back at my notebook again. I don’t even have to see his face to know he is smiling. I write him a note.

  I am waiting on the corner Saturday morning. My mother has kicked me out again saying she is having company over and if I pulled what I did last time she would kick me out for good. I look at the clock on the school tower. It’s almost ten. I look around for Jamie. At exactly ten a black Mercedes pulls up in front of me. I back away almost sure it’s a student from school trying to hurt me, then I see Jamie get out of the drivers side. He is wearing a pair of faded blue jeans I am positive you can only buy that way in the store, and an old t-shirt fitted very well. I think about how big of a mistake I have made as he walks up to me. He looks at me and when his eyes look at mine I see worry flash into his face. It wasn’t the worry he had that Monday. It was if he is scared I was going to leave him. I tear my eyes away and look past him into the car as if to let him know I was going to go with him. Something about him screams I should trust him. Something I don’t think I have felt before. It feels really good.

  We drive outside of the town limits in silence. Part of me was let down, I thought of how he doesn’t want to be seen with the weird girl from school. That thought sits in the back of my mind until we pull up to a diner. I look at him and he looks right back and smiled. My lips turn up without thinking. I reach for my door handle but he shakes his head and gets out. I wait as he comes around the door digging the dirt out of my nails.

  The diner is small and homely. We are seated by a lady that looks old enough to be anyone’s grandmother. I look over the menu for the cheapest meal. I only have a few dollars I snuck out of my mother’s purse before leaving. When the waitress comes back to order Jamie looks annoyed as I order a small salad. He orders a hamburger and a milkshake. We talk about school as we wait for the food. I try to keep the conversation away from me and my life.

“So Katelyn, what do you like to do in your free time?” Jamie asks. I contemplate and consider my answer very carefully.

“I read. I used to skate though.” I don’t know why I just told him that. Something about him is breaking down the walls I have built up so diligently.

“Oh, on the lake?” He responds as the food is set down in front of us. His burger makes my mouth salivate. It takes me a second to realize he asked me the question.

“Huh? Um,,, ya.”

“Why did you stop?”

“I don’t know.”

  We sit in silence, but much like the silence in the car this one is pleasant. It is as if there isn’t something that is left unsaid. I pick at my salad even though it is probably the only meal I will have today. When we finish our dinner I dig around in my pocket for the crumpled bills, but when I try to put them down Jamie stops me.

“Katelyn, I got this.”

“I don’t want your charity!” I practically scream at him. I don’t know where it came from, and neither does he. His brows crease at my opposition to letting him pay. Then he smiles. The smile although nice to see is more of a smirk, like he has realized something and can’t wait to tell me.

“Katelyn, this is a date. I am paying for it. I don’t know what the money situation is at your home but my guess is that you bought that salad because this is all you have today. You can have whatever you want off the menu. It’s not charity, just a chance for me to spend time with you.” He says calmly. My eyes dart across his face, and I am almost positive he can see my blue eyes filled with anger.

“Here is the thing. It is charity. I know this is a date. I don’t have any idea, not a shred, of why I agreed to it though. I don’t think this will work out. Please don’t follow me, better yet, don’t contact me!” I scream at him then run out the door.

  I have very quickly realize that it is hard to run when you’re crying. Everything is blurry and it makes it that much harder to breathe, but I can’t stop.

  I run until my lungs are screaming at me to stop. I catch my breath and find myself at the lake. It is nearing sunset and the suns purple and orange rays have started to dance across the water. It’s amazing to watch. Something about the way that the sun can say goodbye and comeback without fail everyday holds something so much deeper for me. I look at the sunset on the horizon and wish upon it. I haven’t done that in a while.

  Before things were bad my mother and I would sit on the porch. We would watch the sunset and sunrise together. Every morning we would pad out and sit on a old lounge chair. We would watch the sun peak from the east, painting the light blue sky, and my mother would hold me close and say, “Katelyn, quick, make a wish, one for the day. Don’t say it out loud. Think big!” And I would close my eyes. Sometimes my wish would come true. Then as sunset would arrive my mother and I would head outside once again. We would sit like before and look at the west. She would whisper, “Katelyn, no matter how scared you are wish upon the sunset. They chase away the monsters. But don’t close your eyes to wish. You will miss the sun’s goodbye.” So I would wish again, this time keeping my eyes glued to the sun’s final wave.

  I sit at the lake until the sun goes all the way down. I slowly make my way home. When I walk through the door the house is quiet except for the low hum of the television coming from my mother’s room. I breathe a sigh of relief. I open my door and collapse into my bed. I dream of my sunset’s wish coming true. I dream that I am normal and when I walk out the door tomorrow my mother will love me again. Yet I know it, dreams are nothing more than impossible illusions.

Chapter 3

  On Monday Jamie is at our table in homeroom. He looks at me as I come into the room. I scan the class room for an empty desk. The only one left is in the front. I hate sitting in the front. Being a target, it is easier to bulls-eye with a clear view. I take the seat anyways. I watch as Amanda slithers into the seat next to Jamie. She runs her hand over his arm causing my blood to seethe with annoyance. Not something I am all that used to. Jamie doesn’t look too pleased with the exchange they are sharing. In fact, he looks down right uncomfortable. I find solace in that simple fact; he isn’t charmed by Amanda, and probably won’t be affected by Grace. I catch myself in the middle of my thoughts. Don’t even consider it. He is way too good for you. He is only trying to create a joke. I focus my attention at the board.

  I am so focused on the class I don’t even notice the bell ring. Jamie taps my shoulder as kids file out of the room.

“Katelyn, I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable on our date.” He sounds so sincere for a second I truly believe he is.

“You don’t have to apologize. I’m sorry I ruined your evening. I have to go though.” He steps in front of me before I can get out of the row.

“Katelyn, look at me. Please.” I look into his eyes and I see the same thing as before. The deepness of eternity can be seen in his eyes.

“Jamie, what do you want?” I say my voice barely above a whisper.

“Another chance?” he questions.

“You need the chance? Wasn’t I the one who ran out?” My heart has started to speed up.

“Yes, so I guess that means you should be the one asking me for another chance doesn’t it?” He smirks.

“Egotistical much?” I can’t help but smirk right back. He does that to me.

“Nope. So how about this. It’s snowing today. By Sunday the lake should be frozen. What say you and I go and skate?” He looks at me with hope in his eyes.

“Maybe. Now will you please move. I need to get to class, and so do you.”

“You won’t regret it!” Jamie shouts sweetly as he runs to his next class. Part of me hopes I won’t.

  He is right. The lake is frozen solid by today. I can’t go though. My mother went into an all out rage on me yesterday afternoon. I hadn’t eaten since Friday morning and I snuck a piece of toast, a butt piece that I knew she hates. I guess she hates me eating more. She nearly broke my arm ask she pushed me down. She sat on my chest beating me until I couldn’t see. My face is covered with bruises this morning. There is no way for me to call Jamie and cancel so I hide in my room all day. My mother doesn’t come to me, though I don’t really think I would expect her to.

  It’s now Monday and the bruises have gone down but are still clearly visible, even with the enormous amounts of foundation I put on to cover them. I get dressed and leave for school.

  When I get to school I am not sure if it is looks of pity or the looks of disgust that annoy and humiliate me, though none is worse than the look on Jamie’s face.

  When he first looks at me I can see the hurt and anger at me for canceling our plans, and then when he really looks at me I see it, like everyone else, the pity that crosses in his eyes. It’s like a fire, standing there not touching it, not trying to play it down, only makes it bigger. When I go to sit at our desk he doesn’t say anything, he just hugs me. The tightness and warmth of his arms around me almost makes everything ok and safe. His hands caress my hair. I can’t help it as a trickle of a tear falls down my cheek and onto his shirt. I wish I could stand forever in his embrace.

  But the bell rings and we all sit as our teacher walks in. He looks around the room and his eyes linger on my face a second longer than normal. I put my head down. When I look down there is a note on my desk.

 Do you want to talk about it? Yes. No. What difference would it make? I stick with no.

Ok. How was your weekend? He’s dropping it? I write him back

Fine. I’m sorry about canceling on Sunday, I really wanted to go. Things came up. I don’t really have a phone.

Its okay, I understand, but you owe me another chance. Get some lunch after school?

Of course. I smile; sure my face is turning redder by the second.

  The day drags on as I wait for school to end. Finally the bell rings. I walk to the parking lot and Jamie pulls up. I get in before someone can stop me. I look at Jamie and smile. We drive out of the parking lot. He reaches over and takes me hand, gives it a squeeze and then lets go. Well he tries to, I don’t let him. I hold onto him like he is a life raft until we get to the heart of the town. I climb out and we walk into the small pizza place on the corner of the street. Jamie protectively keeps his hand on my back. We order and talk. It feels way more natural than before.

  I ask Jamie to take me to the library rather than home. He agrees without thinking twice. When we pull into a parking spot Jamie walks around and as I get up he pulls me up against him and kisses me.

  They say your first kiss is either magical or a complete disaster, something to compare every kiss from then on to. This kiss, the simple press of his lips against mine is defiantly magical. The tender feel of his hands amplify the electricity his lips send through my body. I kiss him back wrapping my arms around his neck as his hands grip my waist. I smile against his lips. We don’t deepen the kiss, but it was the most intimate thing I have ever done.

“Thank you.” I say foolishly. A smile plays across Jamie’s lips as he leans his forehead against mine.

“Any time.” He smiles back.

  We walk up the steps holding each other’s hands. My small pale frail ones in his rough tan ones. He opens the door for me. I realize he is staying until I am ready to go home. He is going to drive me home. My mother, oh god my mother is going to see him. I stop in my tracks trying to breathe.

“Katelyn? Oh god, what’s wrong?” he looks around for someone who could cause my panic and fear. He will never find out what it is though. I catch my breath to remain in control.

“I’m fine. I just I need to go now. I am going to walk home. I loved today with you but I need to go. I will see you tomorrow.” I turn to leave. Jamie grabs my wrist and I flinch. Nothing pleasant has ever come after this. All he does though is look at me with pleading eyes. Eyes that make me almost open up to him and weep out all the horrible details of what goes on behind the closed doors at home, but I don’t. I slip my wrist out of his hand and walk away, willing myself not to cry.

  When I am home nothing is on. Not a single light. I think, maybe she is gone. Maybe she left me alone. That is until I hear a snore. She is asleep. I creep into my room and just lay on my bed until the blackness of dreamless sleep overtakes my tired and aching body.