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Chapter 55 - Vaporized Masculinity (Gone, Reduced of Adams)
Naturally, when we finally made it to the cafeteria, there was a line to rival the one I’d been in yesterday. Pushing and crushing and gasping through a narrow doorway, it struggled for every scrap as swiftly as possible.
Lea huddled close to me as so many rank and sweaty people crowded on all sides. I held onto her and we dragged each other through that rancid maw. The cafeteria was about the same as the Annex only with (theoretically) more space.
Foam trays in hand, we crept past the woeful display of the day: Teriyaki chicken sandwiches. Whatever enthusiasm those words may automatically kindle inside you, please promptly mercy slaughter them. Bitter, salted brown sauce leaking off flattened buns with canned pineapple two shades too bright to be anything but candy and a chicken-like, Play-Doh mass pressed into the vague, ‘reassuring’ shape of a chicken breast.
I opted not to dwell on why water was rapidly leaking off the area with the chocolate muffins. At least they weren’t soggy. The chocolate didn’t smell any worse or better than health food store carob. The vegetable sticks and fruit cups were pre-packaged and, therefore, probably the most tolerable.
Finishing with milk and a cookie, I leaned ahead to the cashier and explained, “My friend forgot her ID, so I’ll pay for both of us.” With her still, staring eyes gazing blankly through us, she held out a hand and accepted our offering in silence.
We each got a soda and some crackers at the nearest vending machine before heading out. Shrugging her loaner pack high on her shoulder, Lea pleaded, “I will pay you back as promptly as I can.”
It honestly wasn’t that much (and what we got was worth even less). I reminded her it was just a quid pro quo for her lovely breakfast. She cradled the tray and insisted, “Still, you’ve given so much to me…I just feel ardently I must endeavor to do more for you in return.”
Or taken so much from you. I just nodded and gave a little smile as we walked the long, busy ways towards somewhere to sit down. Out of habit, I led her to the front of the large gym.
It looked like it had been recently spray-washed to get rid of dust and cobwebs. While the walls were still wet, the ground was dry enough to sit on. Lea gingerly sat down, crossed her legs, and asked, “This is where you usually have lunch?”
Trying not to lean back against the wall, I nodded. I was sure I’d mentioned the lunch group in passing to Wes before, but I named everyone for Lea's sake. I amended that we didn’t really meet much on Fridays. Although Brian sometimes showed up anyway. Kenny and his sister only came if Cody did, so they were expected to be no-shows.
Lea explained that she usually ate in her Psychology class because, even when the bell rang, she was already where she needed to be. A better idea.
Neither of us ate that much of our meal and it wasn’t solely due to taste. Lea scuffed her Vans and rubbed her shoulders despite her big sweater. She poked at the side of her muffin and remarked, “This is nice too. Chiefly due to the company.”
I scooted over to smile and nudge her shoulder because our hands were sticky with teriyaki goo. After washing up with a nearby faucet, we settled against the now-dry walls.
Before long, it was like back on the front couch and she was leaning against me. I didn’t mind. She shut her eyes with a peaceful expression. I watched at her soft, full face with a few bangs dangling over her forehead.
I squeezed her fingers and focused. What energy I had, what love I could give. To strengthen her resolve against all challenges. To bolster the energy which had been sapped from both of us. To preserve her joys, even the smallest of them. To lighten her spirit about things she could only imagine. To bring the certainty of self to her life and her future.
Another dose of all those things I felt she needed but without the distractions of a class. Just the two of us. I focused those same words on her.
Joy. Energy. Resilience. Exuberance. Self-confidence.
All for Lea. I shaped my thought into a hot string of plasma joining us. My energy feeding into her, warming her entire body.
A little, high-pitched gasp from her encouraged me to keep going. I repeated the words to myself and imbued them with my will. For Lea. Full Lea. Complete Lea. Wes never again.
Those last three words passed through my head like particles whizzing out of the ether. I felt horrified to witness them, but I’d thought them and they were true.
I wanted Lea forever. I didn’t want Wes back. In fact, I wanted to annihilate any remaining iota of maleness and masculinity. My random feelings delighted in the absolute, unrestrained burn. Scorched earth.
I knew it was overkill by this point, but I wanted it. Forget all the warnings and questions. Every ounce of my energy devoted to the strongest possible Lea. Lea of long words. Lea of cute smiles. Lea of holding hands. Lea of pretty skirts. Lea of my radioactive femininity with no dwindling half-life.
When I finally had to stop, I saw glowy after-images, like suddenly releasing a long-held breath while exerting myself. I blasted through everything in me, not because she truly needed to be protected or she asked me, but because I wanted to.
I slumped against the corner, utterly depleted. Her eyes fluttered open with soft concern as she told me, “That felt…wow…even stronger than last night. All through every nerve. But you didn’t need to. Please. You’ve given me so much.”
Half-resting my eyes, I smirked calmly and told her, “I wanted to. I want you to be full of joy, exuberance, and energy. With confidence against all the fears, monsters, and bitter words that might strike.”
She giggled gently and held my hand. “Oh, silly Kenzie. I already have all of that. You don’t need to burn yourself out on doubling what’s resolutely ‘me’.”
Well, I felt silly. And more than a bit embarrassed looking back at my stream of thoughts.
Unfortunately, I couldn’t reflect further because the end of lunch bell howled. Lea pouted with me that lunch had been over so quickly. We both wanted more time.
I was a little groggy on my feet, but Lea leaned on my shoulder to support me with a smile. We walked together as far as we could. We traced around the edge of the gym to the nearest classrooms. Lea would keep going till she was a row back from her Chemistry class. Her final class was almost at the front of campus.
She squeezed my hand before we parted and asked, “I…was wondering. Well, my synapses are full of so many things…” Her light voice disappeared into the crowd around us before she announced with her best face of certainty, “And one of them is I want you to come over to my house. Please…” She pressed her hands together and smiled at me with those vast, brown eyes.
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I reminded her of my parents. Her staying over meant mom’s all-consuming, critical glare. Me staying over in the unfamiliar house of parents she didn’t know would be practically impossible. Lea dipped her head a moment before lifting it with a glint in her gaze.
“I’ll figure something out. We can meet up for a hug after fifth and then by the fence to strategize! Alright?”
Once again that word but spoken like a call to action. I reflected her smile and accepted, “Sounds like a plan.” She surged towards me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. With a peck on my cheek, she said, “See you then!”
My turn to quietly wave. She pressed through everyone like a force of nature, parting the swells of humanity in her way. I leaned against a railing and tried to summon forth the same feeling within myself.
I slipped through the currents, diverting left and right to avoid the strongest ones before I finally came to rest at the open door of Castellanos’ room.
It took all my effort to drag my feet up the ramp. I even considered hanging my backpack around my front to ease the weight. But, step by step, I finally made it to the top and inside the room.
Castellanos greeted me warmly with a smattering of Spanish. I said a perfunctory “Hola” and “Bien”. All I could muster at the moment. He led me around to a seat at the back of the class. At his desk sat a guy about my age.
His hair was thick and hung loose without too much work put into grooming it. His skin was a deep shade of brown, which didn’t really stand out, but his demeanor did. He seemed somehow older than any of the other guys. Mature was probably the word. But not the bullshit version of mature which adults toss around to say how much better their kid is. Nah, he looked like he had his shit together enough to actually teach a class like this.
How does anyone get their shit together at sixteen? Do they also crap gold?
I scooted a little closer and gave him a wave. He returned the wave and asked politely, “How are you?...You’re Kenzie, right?”
Shit together, craps gold, and a mind reader. I had to step up my game.
Of course, I asked, “You know me?”
He turned up his hands with a shrug and responded, “We had a class last year. Mr. Van Zand. Responsibility and all that.”
To be honest, I didn’t remember him at all. Maybe I recalled his face a little bit but when there are over a hundred faces in your day, it’s hard to retain all of them. Then add in several years of assemblies and how many people you pass in line and all that. One face feels the same as the next.
Then, it hit me over the head as I did a closer examination of his features. Nose. Eyebrows. The shape of his chin. Like a younger version of Mr. Castellanos. Naturally, as with my best intuitions, I held my tongue.
He introduced himself as “Antonio Castellanos”, the younger brother of the teacher. Not quite what I expected but still not completely unexpected either. I’d known more fellow children of teachers.
I chatted softly and randomly as class started. He was nice and thoroughly focused enough to make me feel embarrassed I didn’t know more of anything and everything at that point in my life.
When he and the teacher chatted, they did so in Spanish. Ugh…if only I understood more. I caught a “bueno” or two.
Things didn’t get much better when it came to the actual class and the review of key terms. Too many tests for one Friday…
Mr. Castellanos continued with the “containment” procedure from yesterday of rotating me around the room. I eventually wound up near Sebastian again.
He wore a glossy (probably satin), light-pink button shirt with a dark lavender vest and tight denim jeans. It looked like something out of the 1920s.
Sebastian gave a friendly, head-cocked wave and told me, “Heeey, Kenzie! Happy Friday, girl!”
I returned the sentiment with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. Sebastian’s groups were always filled with girls. Today, I noticed a brunette who I knew from prep rallies was on the cheerleading squad. She had shoulder-length, curly hair which looked like it had some mystical charm placed on it so it would never appear frizzy or unkempt. And her face looked utterly perfect, like some younger version of a TV star. She even had the name “Tiffany”. Not only that, but she genuinely seemed nice the times I’d been around her.
To her left was a blond girl, probably named Cass, who was likely on the cheerleading squad as well. She was about my height but at least her hair looked like a big puffball around her head. Otherwise, she seemed perpetually-dazed. Not as bad as the cross-eyed, cat-smacked-with-an-anvil guy from my freshman reading class but wobbly enough you had to wonder if she’d had something more exotic than food for lunch. She seemed amazed by the simple fact her textbook lay flat on her desk.
The last girl in the group was Luna Caylao. Regretfully, I barely acknowledged her existence. She was a small, full-figured Filipino girl who wore silver-rimmed glasses even thicker than mine. I knew she liked anime and attended several medical classes but that was all I’d probed in three years of sharing several classes with her.
And then the odd one out, Tim. Just Tim. I was certain he had a number of brothers who attended the same school, or he’d been cloning himself for years. He was a dishwater blond with bright streaks. Other than that flash of color, there was no impression he’d ever done anything to his hair besides cut it since he was born. He looked around the group like he was sharing a private joke with himself and slumped back further.
He had on what looked like some iteration of a sports jersey with dangly, glossy pants. Like he was dressed for a game, but he probably wasn’t on any teams. He was content to do whatever he seemed to be doing in his notebook, which obviously wasn’t any group assignment. Was there a group assignment? Luna was probably doing it.
Sebastian was like the conductor of the group. He talked cheerleading with Tiffany. He made sure Cass didn’t get too panicked by the colors on her textbook. He did a silly voice for Luna, who responded with a quick giggle. He left Tim alone to do whatever it was he was doing. And, with a light shoulder touch and soft-lisped words, he asked me, “What you got going on, girl? Still problems with that jealous girlfriend of your ex?”
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Art by Alexis Rillera/Anirhapsodist
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