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I tilt my head to the side, Valentina’s worried stare fixed on me. It’s no surprise she’s concerned, since getting an F in any class is unacceptable to me. I’ve been busting my ass non-stop in all my classes since freshman year, just so I can improve my chances at getting a scholarship. So far, I’ve excelled at all of them. Numbers and facts I can deal with, no problem. English lit though is a whole other ball game. I only took this class so it would break the norm and look good on my academic rap sheet. If I knew that I would have to be on the spot and tell a room of strangers all my secrets, then I would have reconsidered and taken home economics instead. But there was another reason why I wanted to take this class. Val was taking it, too. And since mine are almost all AP classes, this was the only one I had with her.
The chair beneath me scrapes on the linoleum, like a bad horror movie sound-tracking my impending doom. I wipe my brow with my arm and pick up the scribbled notebook off my desk. I feel all eyes on me as I walk to the front and center of the room.
“Which poem did you pick as your muse? The one to inspire your words today?” Mr. Harris asks when I finally get close enough to him.
“‘A Woman in the Garden of Light’ by Rudyard Kipling,” I stammer, my voice starting to fail me.
“Please proceed, Logan. We do have more students to hear today,” he states, using a more understanding tone.
I clear my throat, my palms so clammy, I have to grab the notebook in my hands with my fingers not to wet the paper and tarnish the words written there. I crane my neck up, and even though the room is full of rowdy teenagers, I only have eyes for her—the only girl who could summon poetry out of me. Fear, excitement, dread, and embarrassment all accost me at once. I shake those feelings away and just look down at the words. The words I wrote for only her ears, but never had the courage to say.
In finding our sanctuary,
We roam free through its golden waters.
No fear or shame as we swim to the surface,
Letting the warm sun kiss our bare skin,
As the liquid gold brands its loving mark upon us.
And you, who shines so effortlessly,
Soothe our longing with a mere look, or simple touch.
We dive deep into your lovely abyss,
until breath is no longer necessary to survive.
Life is given when we breathe you into our lungs,
Into our hearts, into our very souls.
We swim through your liquid gold,
Letting it wash our sins away,
replenishing us from within with your bright light.
And with our surrender, we are reborn,
Into a perfection that only your love could ever conjure.
In breathing you in, we find our true selves.
Embrace our final destination.
This is our sanctuary.
Our peace and our forever.
As I readthe last sentence, I’m very aware of how my T-shirt is stuck to my skin, sweat and fear clinging the fabric to my body. Everyone is silent, and I don’t really care if that is a good sign or a bad one. All I care about is one person’s reaction. When I get my composure in check, I raise my head, and my eyes search for her. When they finally land on Valentina, all the air in my lungs leaves me. Her golden eyes have unshed tears in them, but the glorious smile on her face tells me that they are not provoked by sadness, but by what I can only hope is love. My throat clogs as I watch her discreetly wipe an errant tear that falls down her cheek.
“Well, Mr. Cooper, I must say I was not expecting such a heartfelt poem from you. It has depth, longing, and desire. Something someone your age shouldn’t be able to handle or express so vividly, and yet you did it beautifully. It will be hard for your fellow colleagues to surpass, I can tell you that much. Well done, Logan. Please take your seat.”
Nervous, but always with my head held high, I walk back to my chair and see some star gazing eyes looking at me hungrily while others are just confused. When I sit down, I look over at Val, but her attention is on the professor and not on me.
I’m immediately disappointed.
