15. If you need to ask...

The memory ended there. Leila picked the thought out of her head like a wad of wet paper. The material was all but ruined and the ink had run, but it didn’t make the words any less real. She had to take a pause from her recollections. Something was pressing on her chest, claiming her full attention. As she sat up, a raw exhalation escaped her mouth as tears ran wildly down her cheeks. She wasn’t sobbing, she wasn’t heaving. She couldn’t even tell herself the reason why she was reacting this way to the memory. It was if another had taken possession of her body to relieve a deep hurt. There was something primal, yet sublime about the strange event, like a disconnection of the mind and soul.

Which part of us remembers, anyway? I’ve been so caught up on the memories of my mind, but what about the memories of my soul? What if I’ve been going about this all wrong? Something about this memory triggered this response…

She tried to focus on her feelings for a moment and came up with a jumble of conflicting emotions that seemed to cancel each other out. Taking a deep breath, she settled her mind as much as circumstances would let her and tried to push everything aside. She’d allow herself a moment to stop thinking and just feel, hoping that her spirit would tell her which emotion she had to hone in on at that particular moment. It was a chore; her mind was like a room full of small, entitled children demanding her attention. She envisioned the children. She envisioned herself trying to call them to attention. It only managed to make them wilder, louder. She had to hold her hands to her ears at them and will them all away. That moment of whimsy morphed into a visualization of a classroom in her head, seen from an aerial perspective.

Only one of the desks was occupied. Sitting in it was a human figure with wavy hair. It was impossible to make out specific features because the whole image was painted in glowing hues of blue over a stark background. A person just sat there, crying. At the sound of their sob something inside Leila broke.

Tears still flowing, she thought of that day again. Things were starting to fall into place; she could now recall why she’d been onstage during winter formal. She could remember why she wore blue, she could see as plain and true as the skin she stroked and angered with her touch, as real as the lightning bolts of pain striking her head, making her wish for release. She’d let herself be set up in the series of events that had led her to this moment. She’d done this to herself.

Sleep became a necessity. Her face was now covered in moisture.

Sweat and tears… it would be fitting. If I were actually getting anything from all this. Maybe I still need blood… to unravel all of this…

The doorknob turned and she motioned to roll on her side and cover her face with her sheets, with far more precision and elegance than she could have credited herself for in her condition. She feigned a peaceful, even breathing which seemed to fool her brother. He spoke back towards the hall “She’s sleeping. Should I wake her up, mom?”

Lola’s voice rang back and wavered in the air as Leila was swallowed by real, overwhelming sleep, “No, Josh, it’s okay. Just let her rest.”

It was dark. She was held up, not by a force, but more of a resistance to her weight, to her very presence. She didn’t feel weightless, she felt repelled. Something in this dreamscape didn’t want her there. She tried to raise herself with her arms, but everything around her was oppressive, like being caught inside a pile of heavy blankets. When she tried to open her eyes she realized they were already open. The nothingness of her surroundings made her want to disappear into its void. She’d felt this way many times when she was a small child, but had never told anyone. She wouldn’t have known the first thing about how to put those feelings into words.

As young as five, Leila had sometimes caught herself in a desperate moment, where a single question would trigger a frantic response: why are you here? Her small mind would not be able to confront such a question, so she would visualize herself violently shaking some object in her field of view to silence her thoughts and will herself out of the moment. Sometimes the shock was such that she would break into cold sweats, without being able to explain to a single person around her what had just happened.

The feeling was similar now, but the fight had gone out of her. She couldn’t will herself to raise her head, much less gather the strength to conjure up something to shake, or the stamina to even grab it. She was stifled and vulnerable.

Just then, something else manifested around her. A lightness and purpose enveloped her, another kind of pressure. She was being held.

Help me.

The presence whispered in her ear, calm and even, “You need to help yourself. You did this and now you have to decide if it is to be undone or left to be.”

Why would I do this to myself? All I ever try to do is protect myself… why would I put myself in the position to get hurt like I did?

“Maybe… just maybe… you have to consider the possibility… that you went too far.”

I know I went too far. I was doing just fine by myself, with my close friends by my side. I didn’t need to expose myself the way I did. I should have just kept laying low. It was stupid of me to believe it was a good idea to go beyond the close and safe and familiar. I realize that now. But I want my memories back. What good is a writer… what good is a person without their memories? I need to face what happened, I need to free myself from it, or I will go through the rest of my life with this pressure in my chest and this horrible feeling that I’m missing something.

The voice was silent. Leila managed to raise her head enough to try and squint through the darkness. She collected her emotions and spoke to the voice once again.

Please, tell me what I need to do… Clay.

The mention came to her like a recollection prompted by a familiar scent or the chords of a beloved childhood song. The voice felt a bit more hesitant than before, but still spoke clearly for the last time before sending Leila crashing back into reality.

“I think there’s still a lot you don’t understand. Don’t worry, you will. If you’re sure you want to.”

Leila woke to the sound of her mother’s voice. She’d come to wake her because she’d decided to let her sleep through her painkillers, but now that it was time for her antibiotics, she had to make sure to get something in her belly so she could take them safely.

She’d had to approach the bowl of warm, thin noodle soup like an assignment, even though she would have devoured it under regular circumstances. Then she could take the cold medication and her painkillers at once.

“So how long did you say it took that girl Astrid to get over this flu?”

Leila started at her mother’s words. She’d been absent in thought, trying to recall the rest of the events of that day she joined the student council.

“Oh, um… just a few days. I’m sure I’ll be okay by this weekend. Could I go to Evelyn’s then?”

Lola sighed one of her trademark aggravated sighs and spoke as she exited the room, “That will be up to the doctors. You just focus on getting your strength back.”

Back? That’s a good one, ma. Let me know where I got it in the first place, if I ever even had it.

As soon as Lola was out of her room, Leila dug under her mattress for notebook 9 and verified the events of November 12. What was written as the afterthought of the entry left her cold, as the rest of the events poured over her like a bucket of ice water.

BITE ME, MARCO. OR BETTER YET, JUST BITE IT.

The rest of the events of November 12

As her breath and pulse eased back to normal, Leila could recall putting the boys up to speed on what had transpired with Hannah and Frieda after they saw her exit the restroom with the pair trailing after her. She looked like she was about to cry, so James and Vin called her over and the two girls left when they realized Marco was with them.

After a short, thoughtful pause, James spoke up first, “Well, since we’re going to need you on your best form for this election, I think the best thing for you to do is to avoid those girls altogether.”

“It’s a huge building, but a very tiny academy, I can stay away from them but I don’t know how much I can do if they insist on looking for me. I don’t want to be a burden on the team. I want to stick to the original plan of just being in the background. I like it better there.” Leila was ashamed to admit that the reason she was so set on sticking with the group at this point was purely selfish; being out on her own again with only the siblings by her side would leave her and them wide open for all sorts of retaliation. As horrid as the confrontation with the girls had been, she was not blind to the fact that the mere presence of a high profile student in her vicinity had been enough to send them off.

Vin reached out and plopped a hand in front of Leila’s to get her attention. “Look, I’ll talk to Paula and the other girls and let them know they need to stick with you as much as possible during recess. I hope that can keep them off your back until they lose interest.”

“Maybe they already did.”

Three stunned faces turned to meet Marco’s. He didn’t notice right away, he was still set in thought, but no more than he would have been if considering the choice between chocolate and vanilla ice cream for dessert. When he noticed their reactions to his words, he went on with a minimal brow raise as his only giveaway to any sort of emotional response. “You give them too much credit. And to be quite honest, you give yourself too much importance.”

Leila felt a shockwave of prickling shame explode from her gut to linger at her outermost nerve endings at the heft of Marco’s words. She couldn’t even turn to look at how the other two boys had reacted. Still numb except for the lingering tingle on her skin, she picked herself up from her chair in a jerking, ungraceful movement and mumbled out a tepid “Yeah, thanks for that, it makes me feel so much better” which was meant to sound caustic but didn’t even manage to register on the sarcasm scale. The bell rang a few seconds into her retreat from the scene, and she stopped cold, realized she didn’t even plan where she was going, corrected her stride to head back to her classroom, and decided on the way that whatever small step she had walked in the direction of collecting her dignity had been blown to dust by Marco’s words.

The night of November 12

Leila’s family couldn’t be considered close-knit. It was more of an every-man-for-himself situation, and everyone had managed to find their groove in that fixed reality. Josh had found solace in music when he transitioned into his teenage years and taught himself to play guitar. His group of friends Leila likened to a beehive, large but like minded and close. They seemed to share ideals and thoughts with an ease of transference she couldn’t ever comprehend. They all shifted interests like a school of fish changing direction with sharp synchronicity. In that silent understanding they all went from skateboarding as preteens, to rock music appreciation as teens, to forming a community around music in which you were either a band member or an avid supporter of the band, their music and their gigs, and everyone played their part with gusto.

Josh had landed a part in the band. It was an apparent ointment for his esteem, as he had never been an outstanding student like Leila. Their parents, however, had always been wary of comparing the two, and as a result the siblings had grown up close, only to drift apart when Josh became a fixed thread in the multicolor tapestry he created with his friends. Leila loved and missed being close with his brother, as well as the bliss of childish obliviousness and not being privy to the eroding relationship between their parents. Everything in her years of mental awakening seemed to spell out isolation.

So in the wake of that school day, when Leila had been conscious of making an effort to stand up for herself in school, only to be shut down in the end by Marco’s unkind words, she had sulked in her room for most of the day, surprised her mother when she wouldn’t take a call from Evelyn under verifiable pretense of being engrossed by her homework, and came out of her room only at sundown to lie on the couch by the stereo and put on the easy-listening radio station that played nothing but weepy ballads.

Lola stepped out soon after Leila had face planted on the couch and came back some fifteen minutes later with a blue plastic bag Leila identified and reacted to in an instant. It was sweet bread and pastries from her favorite bakery. The sight of it made the empty expanse in her chest contract just enough for her to muster the strength to get on her feet and follow her mom into the kitchen.

Leila got the big blue plastic fruit bowl they used for the bread from the cupboard and put it on the kitchen table for her mother, then went to get a glass of milk. Lola emptied the contents of the bag in silence, arranging the bread neatly in the bowl. It wouldn’t be necessary to cover the bread; it would be gone before the day was over.

It was with no small pleasure that Leila saw a couple of her favorites among the tonight’s choices, milk bread. When she grabbed for the better looking one she gave a faint sigh as it gave slightly under her fingertips. It was fresh and warm. The palm sized oval loaf had a smaller oval indentation that was stuffed with sweetened dough, and the whole piece was drizzled with a glossy, honey like glaze. She bit into it and felt her chest contract back to its regular size for a few, precious moments. Lola ate in silence besides her daughter, as the aroma from the bread filled the room and provided a much needed nook of respite for the young girl.

Once they were both finished, before the veil of contentment and easiness had lifted, Lola spoke in honest candor to her daughter.

“What happened at school today?”

Where Leila would have no doubt closed off or lied before, she surprised herself by responding in earnest to her mother, saying “I just tried to do something good for myself today and it didn’t go the way I expected.”

“What did you try to do, exactly?”

“I signed up for student council elections. Well, they recruited me, more like. I said yes sort of automatically at first, and then I thought it might be a way to make more friends, or at least have more people at school on my side, you know?”

“Still, are you convinced this is something you’re getting into where you’ll get as much as you give?”

Lola had a way of touching the exposed nerve of any situation with surgical precision. It made Leila shudder most of the time, but once again, she was surprised to answer at plain value. “I can’t know that yet, but trying is better than nothing.”

“You’re right, but you have to be careful not to fall into something that will distract you further from your school work.” It was hard to read her countenance, but as far as Leila could tell her mother looked somewhat impressed. “But in any case, what about it didn’t turn out the way you thought?”

“It’s just… something that was said. These kids are weird mom, some of them seem even alien to me. I just don’t understand how anyone could derive pleasure from getting on another person’s nerves, but some of my schoolmates play that game like they’re getting paid.” She was forthcoming with her assessment of the situation, but Leila could still feel that something was off with her answer. Why wasn’t she singling out the one responsible for her current mood? Why wasn’t she mentioning Marco?

Her mother’s answer caught her off guard. “Look, Leila, I know this school hasn’t turned out to be what you expected, but it’s important for everyone that you stick it out. I know these kids aren’t like you and there’s a good reason for that. You’ll see it plain as anything one day but for now you just need to keep doing what you’re doing, and trying to solve your problems as you best see fit. And you have to know that we’re here for whatever you may need. At least you should know I’ll help you in any way I can.”

Even as she felt the conviction in her mother’s words, Leila couldn’t help but feel a pang of sadness at her assertion. She knew she needed all the help she could get, and she wanted her mom to be able to assist her in this twist she’d gotten herself into, but she couldn’t come up with a single scenario during the possible upcoming events in which her involvement might be beneficial.

The phone rang then; Leila mustered a smile and a thank you to Lola before excusing herself to answer. She knew it must be Evelyn trying to get in touch with her again to hear about what happened in school during her absence.

“Hello?”

She was greeted by an unexpected voice. “Hello, Leila please don’t hang up on me, I have something to tell you, it’s important!”

“Vin? Why would I hang up on you, dumbass? What’s up?”

“I just wanted to tell you that, well, for one, I’m sorry about not standing up for you again. And, please, I know this is gonna sound weird, but don’t write off Marco just yet. I think he really regretted what he said today.”

“You think? As in, he didn’t start spinning at supersonic speed and blast himself into orbit in abject destitution the minute I walked away?”

“Um… no, but look, you’re just going to have to trust me on this one, that’s all I can say right now. So, here’s Evelyn, I took the phone away from her when she called you and she’s asking for it back with loving punches to my leg… Ow! Stop it!”

There was a sound of scraping and scrambling coming from the line, which ended when Evelyn’s voice came through the other end. “Hey girl, so I heard it was an interesting day.”

“That’s an understatement. You picked a hell of a day to play hooky.”

“Well that’s just always what happens. You pick a day to miss school and that’s when all the interesting stuff goes down. So Vin put me up to speed a little bit on what happened with the student council thing and that you were attacked by the clowns, but listen, I think it was a pretty genius move on your part to join.”

“Do tell, I’m questioning every decision I’ve made since birth at this point.”

“No, look, I know it looks bad that they’re going to be on opposite sides of a virtual war front right now, but at least for the time being, they kind of have to watch themselves and stay out of trouble, right?”

“Well that sounds like our type of common sense, human logic line of thought, and it seems to elude the specimens at our school most of the time, but yeah, one would expect that.”

“Look, just form a line of defense with the kids in your council, stay close to them, set something up with Ms. Allen, which shouldn’t be hard since she adores you. Just be sure you can talk to her anytime something happens. We have to trust that this could end up being a good thing for you… for us three.”

“I wanted to find a way to get you in, but I didn’t even know if you’d want to, and they ended up choosing Marco, whom I now have to suffer with a grin, according to your brother. I regret that now that I hear how into it you are.”

“Oh don’t worry, I’ll stay close, you never know. Maybe someone will drop out, or in the worst case scenario, I’ll help campaign for you guys, hand out pins or something. It could be fun.”

It warmed her heart to hear her friends’ support, even though it was still nagging at Leila how little it could possibly help. She released her apprehensions and decided to just enjoy the feeling of comradery. “Ev, as much as I’m tired of this particular topic already, and as much of a rollercoaster as this day has been, it’s not ending on a bad note, not at all.”