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Authors: Ken McKowen
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place. Other factors included
Sampson’s unblemished academic reputation and its ability to
prepare students for college. Kendal’s parents, her father
especially, insisted that she go to Sampson so that she could get
into a good college. They were afraid that if she attended a public
high school she would be on the fast track to community college. It
didn’t matter to her parents that the tuition bill left them
financially strapped. Education was far more important. For that
reason, Kendal felt pressured to get good grades. She hated to
disappoint her parents.
At first she hated Sampson because she felt
so out of place. She hadn’t planned on getting involved in any
school activities. But the appeal of friendships and social
interaction sort of swept her up and spit her out, and the next
thing she knew, she was a part of the cheerleading team. The other
cheerleaders had taken a liking to her right from the start. They
invited her to sit with them at their table in the cafeteria and to
social gatherings and soccer parties. She finally felt like she
belonged.
Kendal’s walk had led her into town to buy
some essentials, including tampons and a few snack items such as
Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and her one major food addiction, Chex
Mix. She passed by The Spot and peered into the window. The room to
the left of the main counter was filled with artsy types of
paintings on the wall and soft plushy couches scattered haphazardly
across a gleaming maple floor. One foamy apple-red chair off in the
corner was built in the shape of a giant hand, so you could sit in
the palm.
To the right of the counter stood a stage, a
very small stage that featured a solid black backdrop with a single
brown bar stool in the center. Across the backdrop Kendal read the
words, “fantasize reality,” spelled out in big bold white
letters.
There were a few round tables in front of the
stage and set off to the back of the room, big enough to
accommodate just two to three people at a time. Votive candles
floated in bowls of water at the center of each table.
So this is where JJ likes to hang out, Kendal
thought. She pictured the place filled with random vagabonds and
folk singers on the center stage, humming original songs about the
meaning of life. This wasn’t the type of place she would have
initially guessed that JJ would go to on a Friday night. Rather,
she could see her at some sporting event, like a hockey game with a
bunch of her basketball teammates, or maybe a local sports bar
where ESPN played on ten different television sets, and overbearing
drunkards challenged one another to games of pool and darts.
But here was her hangout—a sweet and inviting
coffee shop, something of a hidden treasure where she probably
spent her time having intellectual conversations with eccentric
people. Who knew such things existed in a town built around a
soccer rivalry and the annual homecoming weekend packed with games
and a lavish parade?
Kendal took a step back from the window and
glanced at the hours posted below. Next to the open sign was a
poster that read, “Poetry Slam Every Friday Night.” The first prize
winner won fifty dollars and publication in a local writing
magazine called Scattered Thoughts . She wondered if JJ knew
about the contest.
JJ.
Kendal hadn’t thought about her conversation
with JJ since Friday night, until that moment. A nervous sensation
erupted inside of her when she thought about the fact that she’d be
seeing JJ at the library in a couple of hours.
She felt slightly ashamed for being so blunt
and asking JJ about her sexual orientation. It really was none of
her business, but Christine had planted all of those thoughts in
her head in the first place. And Kendal’s curiosity was something
that she always had a hard time controlling.
Once, when she was about five, she’d found a
book of matches in her mother’s purse. Although she knew they were
dangerous, she desperately wanted to see what would happen if
Sampson’s unblemished academic reputation and its ability to
prepare students for college. Kendal’s parents, her father
especially, insisted that she go to Sampson so that she could get
into a good college. They were afraid that if she attended a public
high school she would be on the fast track to community college. It
didn’t matter to her parents that the tuition bill left them
financially strapped. Education was far more important. For that
reason, Kendal felt pressured to get good grades. She hated to
disappoint her parents.
At first she hated Sampson because she felt
so out of place. She hadn’t planned on getting involved in any
school activities. But the appeal of friendships and social
interaction sort of swept her up and spit her out, and the next
thing she knew, she was a part of the cheerleading team. The other
cheerleaders had taken a liking to her right from the start. They
invited her to sit with them at their table in the cafeteria and to
social gatherings and soccer parties. She finally felt like she
belonged.
Kendal’s walk had led her into town to buy
some essentials, including tampons and a few snack items such as
Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups and her one major food addiction, Chex
Mix. She passed by The Spot and peered into the window. The room to
the left of the main counter was filled with artsy types of
paintings on the wall and soft plushy couches scattered haphazardly
across a gleaming maple floor. One foamy apple-red chair off in the
corner was built in the shape of a giant hand, so you could sit in
the palm.
To the right of the counter stood a stage, a
very small stage that featured a solid black backdrop with a single
brown bar stool in the center. Across the backdrop Kendal read the
words, “fantasize reality,” spelled out in big bold white
letters.
There were a few round tables in front of the
stage and set off to the back of the room, big enough to
accommodate just two to three people at a time. Votive candles
floated in bowls of water at the center of each table.
So this is where JJ likes to hang out, Kendal
thought. She pictured the place filled with random vagabonds and
folk singers on the center stage, humming original songs about the
meaning of life. This wasn’t the type of place she would have
initially guessed that JJ would go to on a Friday night. Rather,
she could see her at some sporting event, like a hockey game with a
bunch of her basketball teammates, or maybe a local sports bar
where ESPN played on ten different television sets, and overbearing
drunkards challenged one another to games of pool and darts.
But here was her hangout—a sweet and inviting
coffee shop, something of a hidden treasure where she probably
spent her time having intellectual conversations with eccentric
people. Who knew such things existed in a town built around a
soccer rivalry and the annual homecoming weekend packed with games
and a lavish parade?
Kendal took a step back from the window and
glanced at the hours posted below. Next to the open sign was a
poster that read, “Poetry Slam Every Friday Night.” The first prize
winner won fifty dollars and publication in a local writing
magazine called Scattered Thoughts . She wondered if JJ knew
about the contest.
JJ.
Kendal hadn’t thought about her conversation
with JJ since Friday night, until that moment. A nervous sensation
erupted inside of her when she thought about the fact that she’d be
seeing JJ at the library in a couple of hours.
She felt slightly ashamed for being so blunt
and asking JJ about her sexual orientation. It really was none of
her business, but Christine had planted all of those thoughts in
her head in the first place. And Kendal’s curiosity was something
that she always had a hard time controlling.
Once, when she was about five, she’d found a
book of matches in her mother’s purse. Although she knew they were
dangerous, she desperately wanted to see what would happen if
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