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“Yup.” I croak and grab the door handle.
“Oooh, I almost forgot. One sec…” She reaches into the back seat, pulls out a white wax lined bakery bag and holds it out to me.
“Scones. In case you get hungry between classes tomorrow.”
I take the bag and hope that she can see the gratitude in my eyes. I’m afraid that if I try to speak, I’ll cry.
I hold the bag with as much delicacy as I can while I walk my bike up to the side entrance. I turn to look back at where she dropped me off, she’s still there watching until she’s sure I’m going to get inside safely, something my own mother has never done. I lift a hand to return her wave goodbye and slip past the gate.
That night, for the first time since my stepfather died, I don’t cry myself to sleep.
Just My Imagination
Stone
The last four months have been the best of my whole life. Regan gave me more than a place to study; she’s transformed my whole life. When I walked into class the morning after my first night with her, the ball of dread that always sat in my gut wasn’t so heavy.
I’d been afraid to fight back because I didn’t want to get kicked out. But I saw their faces when she reminded them that I’m a Rivers and I know they don’t want trouble either. They only pick on me because I let them.
The next time they cornered me, I swung my backpack at the one whose face was closest and broke his nose.
He bled all over the hallway.
We were both hauled to the principal’s office, and before I could say anything, he announced that I’d hit him accidentally.
They never bothered me again.
It only took me one month to work enough hours to earn the $500 I owed her. When she told me my tab was settled, I kept coming anyway. With my bullies vanquished I didn’t need the space to study anymore. So, I started spending the entire evening with her in the kitchen.
She’s a universe of knowledge and she shares it all with me. From baking to history, politics to Pokémon evolution, she knows everything. And when she’s talking to me, I get the feeling that she’s been waiting to tell someone all the things she’s sharing with me.
Some nights, we just listen to music and work on our own. She plays music I’ve never heard before. Her favorite is “Just my Imagination” by The Temptations. When that comes on, she sings along. Her voice is nice enough. But it’s the smile she wears when she’s singing it that makes it my favorite.
Other times, she brings her laptop and gives me an education on movies shot in Houston. We watched Terms of Endearment, Jason’s Lyric, Armageddon, and Selena. All of them were sad, but Selena is the only one that made her cry.
And on the nights when we get every scone off the cookie sheets, without any of them sticking, she plays this song called “Southside” and makes me dance with her. She smells like those scones she makes: lemon and ginger and vanilla… I could smell it all day, every day, and still never get tired of it.
The loud, long screech of a car horn shakes me awake just in time for me to stop myself from walking into the crosswalk. I jump back onto the sidewalk and clutch my backpack to my chest.
My heart thuds against the hardbound book inside. This signed special edition copy of Cosmos by Carl Sagan is my most prized possession. I’m giving it to her as a graduation gift. Last week she found out she’s going to be her class Valedictorian.
I wish I could go watch her graduate. But I’d have to ask my mother to drive me all the way to Hofheinz Pavilion. If she knew I’d even met a Wilde, much less spent time with one, she’d raise hell and this small peace I’ve found would be taken from me.
So, I’m taking her my present now. I’ve read it at least a hundred times in the two years since my stepfather brought it home for me. I can recite entire chapters with my eyes closed. But there’s one in particular, about the planet Venus, that made me decide to give this book to Regan.
The transits of Venus - the point in its orbit when it moves between the earth and the sun – only happens once a century. It is the rarest of predictable astronomical phenomena – and one of the most important. Before we had high powered telescopes and the ability to launch satellites into space, scientists used its occurrence to map our entire solar system.
The book has taught me more than planetary order. It helped me understand that even in chaos, there’s order.
When my stepfather died, I read it obsessively to remind myself that there is no such thing as bad timing, or coincidence, or luck. As intelligent as we are, we’re no more important than a speck of stardust compared to the age and size of the universe. Just like those planets up there - we’re on a collision course with our destiny and everything we do, everyone w
e meet, shapes that journey and becomes part of it.
Regan has become part of mine.
I wrote an inscription on the inside of the book that says, “You’re my Venus and I’m your Mars.”
It’s simple, but when she reads the book, she’ll understand. She’ll see I’m not some ordinary kid. When I finish school, I’m going to marry her. I used to think I’d never get married, because I didn’t want to leave people behind the way I was. But I’d do it with her.
