the face, and I stumbled back onto my bed. I lay not moving, not speaking. Arguing made his anger worse, and now I only wanted him to leave. He raged on about how hard he worked, what a lazy ingrate I was, but I stopped listening, my brain carrying me to an alternative reality, where I was watching someone else lying under my black bay window. Then, I went further. I don’t know if it was a minute or an hour. I stopped caring whether Rosa heard. I don’t even know if he hit me again. My mind took me to Caitlin .
Finally, he left. My cheek throbbed, and I knew I should go downstairs and ice it. Instead, I rolled over and fell asleep to the sound of his footsteps in the hall .
FEBRUARY 9
----
Parking lot at 7-Eleven
Monday morning, an hour before school, I hold the phone at 7-Eleven, truck exhaust belching in my face, watching a terrier trying to mount a shepherd mix behind the ice machine. Should I call? It’s juvenile, I know, calling, then hanging up. But I haven’t heard Caitlin’s voice in days, only every song on the radio crying her name. Finally, I dig in my pocket for change.
Her number is comfortable under my fingers, a no-brainer. Then, her voice.
“Hello?”
I twist the receiver above my head and take a sip of my Big Gulp Mountain Dew.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
A group from school pulls in. I’ve seen them before, but I doubt they know my name. My friends don’t hang at 7-Eleven.
“Hello? Hello?”
The line goes dead, and I walk to school, Caitlin’s voice still in my head.
That day, lunch hour
I’m actually reduced to eating in the cafeteria. And alone. I try to separate mac-n-cheese with a spork, unable to eat, though I was hungry a minute before. I think of Caitlin. The way she sounded this morning. Hearing Caitlin’s voice always helped....
(DON’T READ!)
Friday morning, I stared into the bathroom mirror. My face was roadkill. I brushed my teeth, wincing at the tenderness inside my mouth, the puffy redness of my cheek. I should have iced it. I went to my father’s room and stood in the doorway, waiting for him to glance up from what he was doing. When he finally did, I told him he needed to call the school. Somehow, I said, I didn’t feel well enough to go. He just nodded. I told him to say I had the flu this time .
He started to say something, but I walked away. Now was the only time I could get away with that. Did he ever feel bad? Never bad enough not to do it again .
I went back to bed and lay there half an hour, forty-five minutes, staring at the ceiling. When I heard the garage door rumble up and down, I texted Caitlin to call me. Then, I waited .
She didn’t call back. After five minutes, I texted her again. Then, three more times. Still, no answer. Where was she? Maybe she’d never call back, and I’d just drop off the face of the earth .
I’d drifted back to sleep when the telephone finally rang .
“Where were you?” I answered it .
“It was ten minutes, Nick. I was in class.” I heard voices in the background and looked at my watch. She’d waited until passing time to call. Bitch .
“I was worried when you didn’t show up this morning,” she said .
I apologized for not chauffeuring her to school. “I’m sick, if you care,” I said. I knew I sounded pathetic, but I wanted her to be miserable like me, and she didn’t sound miserable enough .
She said of course she cared. She’d come over later. I told her no. Because, of course, she couldn’t see my face .
“I want to. I don’t care if I catch anything.”
“No. I said no.”
“Fine, Nick. Be that way.”
Now, she sounded miserable, but not for the right reason. Because I’d yelled at her, not because she missed me. “You won’t go to the game tonight without me?” I asked .
She didn’t answer right away, and I told her never mind, sucking my lip. Go right ahead .
“It’s just everyone will expect me.”
“Go ahead. Have fun with Everyone.”
“I won’t go,
Finally, he left. My cheek throbbed, and I knew I should go downstairs and ice it. Instead, I rolled over and fell asleep to the sound of his footsteps in the hall .
FEBRUARY 9
----
Parking lot at 7-Eleven
Monday morning, an hour before school, I hold the phone at 7-Eleven, truck exhaust belching in my face, watching a terrier trying to mount a shepherd mix behind the ice machine. Should I call? It’s juvenile, I know, calling, then hanging up. But I haven’t heard Caitlin’s voice in days, only every song on the radio crying her name. Finally, I dig in my pocket for change.
Her number is comfortable under my fingers, a no-brainer. Then, her voice.
“Hello?”
I twist the receiver above my head and take a sip of my Big Gulp Mountain Dew.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
A group from school pulls in. I’ve seen them before, but I doubt they know my name. My friends don’t hang at 7-Eleven.
“Hello? Hello?”
The line goes dead, and I walk to school, Caitlin’s voice still in my head.
That day, lunch hour
I’m actually reduced to eating in the cafeteria. And alone. I try to separate mac-n-cheese with a spork, unable to eat, though I was hungry a minute before. I think of Caitlin. The way she sounded this morning. Hearing Caitlin’s voice always helped....
(DON’T READ!)
Friday morning, I stared into the bathroom mirror. My face was roadkill. I brushed my teeth, wincing at the tenderness inside my mouth, the puffy redness of my cheek. I should have iced it. I went to my father’s room and stood in the doorway, waiting for him to glance up from what he was doing. When he finally did, I told him he needed to call the school. Somehow, I said, I didn’t feel well enough to go. He just nodded. I told him to say I had the flu this time .
He started to say something, but I walked away. Now was the only time I could get away with that. Did he ever feel bad? Never bad enough not to do it again .
I went back to bed and lay there half an hour, forty-five minutes, staring at the ceiling. When I heard the garage door rumble up and down, I texted Caitlin to call me. Then, I waited .
She didn’t call back. After five minutes, I texted her again. Then, three more times. Still, no answer. Where was she? Maybe she’d never call back, and I’d just drop off the face of the earth .
I’d drifted back to sleep when the telephone finally rang .
“Where were you?” I answered it .
“It was ten minutes, Nick. I was in class.” I heard voices in the background and looked at my watch. She’d waited until passing time to call. Bitch .
“I was worried when you didn’t show up this morning,” she said .
I apologized for not chauffeuring her to school. “I’m sick, if you care,” I said. I knew I sounded pathetic, but I wanted her to be miserable like me, and she didn’t sound miserable enough .
She said of course she cared. She’d come over later. I told her no. Because, of course, she couldn’t see my face .
“I want to. I don’t care if I catch anything.”
“No. I said no.”
“Fine, Nick. Be that way.”
Now, she sounded miserable, but not for the right reason. Because I’d yelled at her, not because she missed me. “You won’t go to the game tonight without me?” I asked .
She didn’t answer right away, and I told her never mind, sucking my lip. Go right ahead .
“It’s just everyone will expect me.”
“Go ahead. Have fun with Everyone.”
“I won’t go,
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