Poetry in Motion, part II
Again, original work offered up for amusement only. Please respect author rights.
Mom was so excited to have “another athlete in the family!” Me? I was in my room texting the one person who might lend me a sympathetic ear. She was still put out that I hadn’t spent much time with her, but said she’d come over in a few minutes. It’s nice to have a dependable girlfriend, nicer still if I was a better boyfriend.
I lay back on my bed and considered my life. I had good parents. I had a room with a roof over it, food to eat, sure. My grades were up, a little. My girlfriend loved me enough to come over and listen to me whine. Yet all this took a back seat to the present situation: Coach was going to put the potato on the team in the spring. And he wasn’t just happy about it, he was ecstatic, muttering something about cross country wins.
A knock on my door interrupted my thoughts. “What?”
My brother dared to stick his head and neck into my room. “Got a sec?”
“No.”
He ignored that and fully opened the door, letting me see he had showered and changed, hair still damp. “I just wanted to say thanks.”
“For?”
“For not telling Coach.”
Huh. He wasn’t taunting about winning. He wasn’t teasing about getting on the team. He was thanking me, a point in his favor.
“You’re welcome.” The words still tasted bitter. This kid never had to worry about a weight problem, never had to face teasing, never had to watch what he ate, never had to work hard at anything, and had just called my coach his own.
“I’m done, if you want to take a shower,” he offered.
“Yeah.” I rolled off the bed and grabbed up my clothes. I still had time to make myself presentable before I had company, but not much. “Move.”
“Hey, why did Coach call you Dante?” he asked as I passed him.
I slammed the bathroom door in reply.
-*-
I heard the doorbell and scrambled to get dried and dressed. They were hugging when I came down the stairs.
“Great job,” she said.
“Thanks,” the potato replied. He smiled, until he saw my face and hastily broke free from her. “Um, thanks.”
He slunk off toward the kitchen, and I imagined his leer of triumph, though I could only see the back of his head. Was he after my girl? I turned my face toward her, looking for any sign that she’d enjoyed the hug.
“I come over and you give me a look like that?” Her hands were on her hips and her frown could crack stone. “Seriously?”
It took fifteen minutes to calm her down and sweet talk her back into a good mood. But the moment I started in on how my brother was ruining my life, she turned off her sympathy with the dreaded words, “I think he’s sweet.”
After that, all I could do was sit there and listen as she pointed out how little I’d paid attention to her, and how could I be jealous of him being on the track team or of her giving him a hug when she congratulated him? She didn’t understand and I couldn’t explain. We parted under strained circumstances that kept me tossing and turning all night.
The next week was a chore. I still trained him, I still kept my end of the bargain, but I watched for anything, any little break that would at least rob him of the right to keep the money I now felt he owed me.
He kept his head down and stayed quiet, working hard and doing everything I told him to do and then some. The temptation was there to make the workouts more extreme, but I didn’t, though I’m not sure why.
I also kept my head down and my mouth shut. My teammates heard Coach was putting the potato in the lineup come spring, but their teasing only got the cold shoulder or a stony glare from me.
I held on to my grades and pushed hard on my workouts. The temptation to eat was there, since I’d always turned to food for comfort in the past, but I wasn’t that person now. I couldn’t be.
Thanksgiving finally came, but it wasn’t the thankful break I’d hoped for. When we visited family in town, I heard Mom and Dad telling everyone again and again how son number two was making strides in his life. The potato blushed in embarrassment but ate it up. I made fists with my hands, kept my face neutral, and avoided the dessert table.
Later he made a cryptic remark for my ears only about “finally knowing what it felt like” to be me. I snorted. He had no idea how good he had it.
As the end of the year neared, I’d managed to claw my way back into the good graces of the grade fairy. Coach said nothing, just eyed me as if I were dangerous when he handed back my last paper.
I let out a slow breath but it wasn’t a sigh of relief. Exams were coming. Those could make or break me. I needed a support system. Up to now, that had been the guys on the team and my girlfriend. Sure, Mom and Dad were in the mix somewhere, but they were like nuclear options - not to be brought in unless as a last resort.
Since the guys were still teasing me with the potato, I opted for my girlfriend and made arrangements by text to meet her after the last class of the day. Her reply specified her locker as the place. That didn’t bode well.
My teacher held us back a few minutes. By the time I got there, the prettiest girl in the world was shoving her locker door closed and shaking her head in disgust.
She turned on me, eyes flashing with temper. “What’s with you?”
“Mrs. Greer was late.”
“Not Mrs. Greer. She’s always slow. I mean you.” She started walking and I tagged along since we were heading for my locker.
“What’s going on? You’re not with me anymore. You’re never with me. Who are you spending so much time with? Are you seeing someone else?”
Fear coursed through me. “No, I’m not!”
She gave me a doubt-filled side-eye. “Then what are you doing?”
I opened my mouth, but no words came. I’d promised. Plus, the state she was in meant no explanation would do. Instead I tried reinforcement, not caring that the halls still held witnesses.
“Look, I love you,” I blurted. People around us chuckled but I ignored them. “You’re it. You’re the only. I swear it!”
She shrugged. “Doesn’t answer my question.”
Shit. “I can’t tell you, but I promise this doesn’t have anything to do with me seeing anyone else.”
We walked in silence until we arrived at my locker, then she stopped dead and faced me.
“I’m the jealous type.” I nodded and didn’t interrupt. “I’m high maintenance and low self confidence, and you know that. I believe - believed - in you, both as a friend and as a boyfriend.” The change in tense rocked me like a punch, but I kept my eyes locked on hers. “I trusted you with my secrets and you trusted me with yours. We had each other’s backs. Now you’ve got a secret and you won’t tell me. That hurts.”
She swallowed hard and raised her chin. “Whatever’s going on, will it stop soon?”
“In May.” I hesitated for a breath. “Maybe Christmas we can?”
“No.” A dismissive hand cut me off. “No more maybes you won’t follow through on. And we’re going to my aunt’s that day. Prom. What about prom?”
“I’d like to take you.” My heart bobbed up into my throat, but I swallowed it down to get the rest of the words out. “If you still want to go with me.”
She nodded. “I’ll think about it.”
Oh God, what had I done? “A movie after New Year’s?”
Her eyes were brimming with tears and pain but her mouth was grim. “I’ll think about that, too. Until then, I’m busy studying or I’m busy with family. Don’t contact me. I’ll text you in January. Got it?”
I breathed out a yes and she took off with determined strides. Traffic in the halls had eased up a great deal. I could have caught up to her but didn’t. She needed time. So did I. The combination on the locker door kept my face away from prying eyes while I thought about the mess I’d made.
A joyous squeal I hadn’t heard it in a while caught my attention. Over my shoulder, I saw my girlfriend, now halfway down the hall, wrap her arms around my brother’s neck.
“That’s wonderful!” She kissed his cheek and let go.
I quickly turned back around and yanked the lock open. It took a few seconds for my heart rate to ease and the thick cloud of jealousy to disperse. When I was sane again, I realized I’d lost having moments of joy like that with her because of my own actions, or lack of them. I’d ignored the one person who saw through the fat boy I’d been, who knew the person I really was, who’d helped keep me safe from my appetite. So what kind of person did that make me now? An idiot.
If I could’ve punched myself, I would’ve. Instead, I loaded up my backpack with books for the long nights ahead, snarled at myself, and slammed the locker shut. When I turned to head for the bus, I ran straight into the potato.
His beaming grin faded quickly. “You okay?”
“No.” I swerved around him. “Come on. We’ll miss our ride.”
“Wait up.” He quickly matched my strides with his long legs. “I spoke to.”
“Yeah, I saw.”
“Okay.” He backed off talking until we were outside. “Christmas is coming.”
“Yes, it is.”
Christmas, what was I going to do about that hurdle? Mom never listened when I said I didn’t want candy or cookies or cake around. She said it was tradition to have sweets in the house during a holiday. Three years ago, I could eat half a chocolate cake and a dozen cookies in one sitting without even realizing I was doing it.
Deep down, I knew I still could, especially now.
“So, about the, uh, you-know-what. I’m going to make it to Christmas. I know I can.” He stepped up into the bus and glanced down at me, grin back in place. “Is there any way.” He lowered his voice and paused until I was up on the first step, just below him. “Is there any way I could have that fifty now?”
I frowned. “What fifty?”
His eyes scoped the distance between us and the nearest person before he leaned down and whispered, “The fifty dollars you said you’d pay me.”
Oh My God.
Part III
Mom was so excited to have “another athlete in the family!” Me? I was in my room texting the one person who might lend me a sympathetic ear. She was still put out that I hadn’t spent much time with her, but said she’d come over in a few minutes. It’s nice to have a dependable girlfriend, nicer still if I was a better boyfriend.
I lay back on my bed and considered my life. I had good parents. I had a room with a roof over it, food to eat, sure. My grades were up, a little. My girlfriend loved me enough to come over and listen to me whine. Yet all this took a back seat to the present situation: Coach was going to put the potato on the team in the spring. And he wasn’t just happy about it, he was ecstatic, muttering something about cross country wins.
A knock on my door interrupted my thoughts. “What?”
My brother dared to stick his head and neck into my room. “Got a sec?”
“No.”
He ignored that and fully opened the door, letting me see he had showered and changed, hair still damp. “I just wanted to say thanks.”
“For?”
“For not telling Coach.”
Huh. He wasn’t taunting about winning. He wasn’t teasing about getting on the team. He was thanking me, a point in his favor.
“You’re welcome.” The words still tasted bitter. This kid never had to worry about a weight problem, never had to face teasing, never had to watch what he ate, never had to work hard at anything, and had just called my coach his own.
“I’m done, if you want to take a shower,” he offered.
“Yeah.” I rolled off the bed and grabbed up my clothes. I still had time to make myself presentable before I had company, but not much. “Move.”
“Hey, why did Coach call you Dante?” he asked as I passed him.
I slammed the bathroom door in reply.
-*-
I heard the doorbell and scrambled to get dried and dressed. They were hugging when I came down the stairs.
“Great job,” she said.
“Thanks,” the potato replied. He smiled, until he saw my face and hastily broke free from her. “Um, thanks.”
He slunk off toward the kitchen, and I imagined his leer of triumph, though I could only see the back of his head. Was he after my girl? I turned my face toward her, looking for any sign that she’d enjoyed the hug.
“I come over and you give me a look like that?” Her hands were on her hips and her frown could crack stone. “Seriously?”
It took fifteen minutes to calm her down and sweet talk her back into a good mood. But the moment I started in on how my brother was ruining my life, she turned off her sympathy with the dreaded words, “I think he’s sweet.”
After that, all I could do was sit there and listen as she pointed out how little I’d paid attention to her, and how could I be jealous of him being on the track team or of her giving him a hug when she congratulated him? She didn’t understand and I couldn’t explain. We parted under strained circumstances that kept me tossing and turning all night.
The next week was a chore. I still trained him, I still kept my end of the bargain, but I watched for anything, any little break that would at least rob him of the right to keep the money I now felt he owed me.
He kept his head down and stayed quiet, working hard and doing everything I told him to do and then some. The temptation was there to make the workouts more extreme, but I didn’t, though I’m not sure why.
I also kept my head down and my mouth shut. My teammates heard Coach was putting the potato in the lineup come spring, but their teasing only got the cold shoulder or a stony glare from me.
I held on to my grades and pushed hard on my workouts. The temptation to eat was there, since I’d always turned to food for comfort in the past, but I wasn’t that person now. I couldn’t be.
Thanksgiving finally came, but it wasn’t the thankful break I’d hoped for. When we visited family in town, I heard Mom and Dad telling everyone again and again how son number two was making strides in his life. The potato blushed in embarrassment but ate it up. I made fists with my hands, kept my face neutral, and avoided the dessert table.
Later he made a cryptic remark for my ears only about “finally knowing what it felt like” to be me. I snorted. He had no idea how good he had it.
As the end of the year neared, I’d managed to claw my way back into the good graces of the grade fairy. Coach said nothing, just eyed me as if I were dangerous when he handed back my last paper.
I let out a slow breath but it wasn’t a sigh of relief. Exams were coming. Those could make or break me. I needed a support system. Up to now, that had been the guys on the team and my girlfriend. Sure, Mom and Dad were in the mix somewhere, but they were like nuclear options - not to be brought in unless as a last resort.
Since the guys were still teasing me with the potato, I opted for my girlfriend and made arrangements by text to meet her after the last class of the day. Her reply specified her locker as the place. That didn’t bode well.
My teacher held us back a few minutes. By the time I got there, the prettiest girl in the world was shoving her locker door closed and shaking her head in disgust.
She turned on me, eyes flashing with temper. “What’s with you?”
“Mrs. Greer was late.”
“Not Mrs. Greer. She’s always slow. I mean you.” She started walking and I tagged along since we were heading for my locker.
“What’s going on? You’re not with me anymore. You’re never with me. Who are you spending so much time with? Are you seeing someone else?”
Fear coursed through me. “No, I’m not!”
She gave me a doubt-filled side-eye. “Then what are you doing?”
I opened my mouth, but no words came. I’d promised. Plus, the state she was in meant no explanation would do. Instead I tried reinforcement, not caring that the halls still held witnesses.
“Look, I love you,” I blurted. People around us chuckled but I ignored them. “You’re it. You’re the only. I swear it!”
She shrugged. “Doesn’t answer my question.”
Shit. “I can’t tell you, but I promise this doesn’t have anything to do with me seeing anyone else.”
We walked in silence until we arrived at my locker, then she stopped dead and faced me.
“I’m the jealous type.” I nodded and didn’t interrupt. “I’m high maintenance and low self confidence, and you know that. I believe - believed - in you, both as a friend and as a boyfriend.” The change in tense rocked me like a punch, but I kept my eyes locked on hers. “I trusted you with my secrets and you trusted me with yours. We had each other’s backs. Now you’ve got a secret and you won’t tell me. That hurts.”
She swallowed hard and raised her chin. “Whatever’s going on, will it stop soon?”
“In May.” I hesitated for a breath. “Maybe Christmas we can?”
“No.” A dismissive hand cut me off. “No more maybes you won’t follow through on. And we’re going to my aunt’s that day. Prom. What about prom?”
“I’d like to take you.” My heart bobbed up into my throat, but I swallowed it down to get the rest of the words out. “If you still want to go with me.”
She nodded. “I’ll think about it.”
Oh God, what had I done? “A movie after New Year’s?”
Her eyes were brimming with tears and pain but her mouth was grim. “I’ll think about that, too. Until then, I’m busy studying or I’m busy with family. Don’t contact me. I’ll text you in January. Got it?”
I breathed out a yes and she took off with determined strides. Traffic in the halls had eased up a great deal. I could have caught up to her but didn’t. She needed time. So did I. The combination on the locker door kept my face away from prying eyes while I thought about the mess I’d made.
A joyous squeal I hadn’t heard it in a while caught my attention. Over my shoulder, I saw my girlfriend, now halfway down the hall, wrap her arms around my brother’s neck.
“That’s wonderful!” She kissed his cheek and let go.
I quickly turned back around and yanked the lock open. It took a few seconds for my heart rate to ease and the thick cloud of jealousy to disperse. When I was sane again, I realized I’d lost having moments of joy like that with her because of my own actions, or lack of them. I’d ignored the one person who saw through the fat boy I’d been, who knew the person I really was, who’d helped keep me safe from my appetite. So what kind of person did that make me now? An idiot.
If I could’ve punched myself, I would’ve. Instead, I loaded up my backpack with books for the long nights ahead, snarled at myself, and slammed the locker shut. When I turned to head for the bus, I ran straight into the potato.
His beaming grin faded quickly. “You okay?”
“No.” I swerved around him. “Come on. We’ll miss our ride.”
“Wait up.” He quickly matched my strides with his long legs. “I spoke to.”
“Yeah, I saw.”
“Okay.” He backed off talking until we were outside. “Christmas is coming.”
“Yes, it is.”
Christmas, what was I going to do about that hurdle? Mom never listened when I said I didn’t want candy or cookies or cake around. She said it was tradition to have sweets in the house during a holiday. Three years ago, I could eat half a chocolate cake and a dozen cookies in one sitting without even realizing I was doing it.
Deep down, I knew I still could, especially now.
“So, about the, uh, you-know-what. I’m going to make it to Christmas. I know I can.” He stepped up into the bus and glanced down at me, grin back in place. “Is there any way.” He lowered his voice and paused until I was up on the first step, just below him. “Is there any way I could have that fifty now?”
I frowned. “What fifty?”
His eyes scoped the distance between us and the nearest person before he leaned down and whispered, “The fifty dollars you said you’d pay me.”
Oh My God.
Part III