Apples to Ashes

I’ve never been any good at hiding my emotions. Nearly every day in elementary school, I’d come home on the verge of tears because someone had made fun of my frizzy hair, or had tripped me in class, but I would still try to convince my mom that I was fine. She always knew better than to believe me.

“Trina,” my mom would say, “your face is easier to read than an open book. Why don’t you sit down and tell me what’s bothering you?” I’d always give in and end up on the couch with her crying my eyes out, and she’d stroke my hair and tell me everything was going to be fine just like a mother should.

When I came home from school the same day I’d pretty much shunned Jacob, I couldn’t pretend that I was all right, but I couldn’t give in to my mom either. This was something that she could never know about. She was sitting in the living room when I entered the house.
“Trina, hon, there’s some leftover Chinese in the microwave,” she said. “You can go ahead and fix yourself a—“

“Yeah, ‘kay,” I said, anxious to stop the conversation before it started. I was at the foot of the stairs which led up to my room when she stopped me dead in my tracks.

“Katrina, where are you going?”

“To my room,” I responded monotonously.

“Why? So you can cry in privacy? Come, sit.” She patted the couch. “Tell me about your day.”

“Mom, I’m okay, really. I have a lot of homework...”

“You’re a horrible liar. I know something’s bothering you. Come sit with me, now.” Her tone changed from concerned to demanding.

“No!” I snapped. “I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine. Why can’t you just believe me for once?!” The strength of my own emotions caused me to quiver. I felt my face grow hot. I never yelled at my mom—ever. Since my dad’s death a few years before, I’d been especially careful not to cause her anymore stress or heartache. But the thought of her finding out about Jacob scared the hell out of me, and my first instinct was to shut her out as quickly as possible. She could never know.

“Fine, you can forget about sleeping over at Ken’s this weekend!” she shouted back. We both hated shouting because once we got started, it was hard for us to stop. My mom restrained her temper with great effort. “Maybe that will make you think twice about talking to me like that,” she nearly whispered. “Go do your homework.”

I glared at her before I ran to my room where I threw myself down on my bed in a fit of tears just like all the whiny teenage girls did in movies. They were always crying about something stupid like a breakup or a rejection. Of course I believed that what I was going through was worse than anything they could ever pretend to feel—worse than anything any playwright could think of. I’d never felt this kind of conflict, this kind of grief.

I couldn’t tell anyone about Jacob. My mom would first be heartbroken, then enraged. She’d tell me to never talk to him again, and I couldn’t do that. Ken, as much as I adored her, would only tell me to do everything I was dying to, but couldn’t. She’d tell me to forget about my church and do what I felt like doing, and I couldn’t do that. Jasmine would be so sensible and so loyal, and she’d tell me to stick to my faith. She’d tell me that I would forget about Jacob eventually, and when I’m married to my knight in shining armor, I’ll be so glad that I waited. But I couldn’t do that either; I couldn’t wait anymore. Then it hit me: I didn’t have to wait anymore.

I had been waiting patiently like a good girl should. I had been waiting to be married off at 18 or 19 to someone I hardly knew, just like everyone else in my church. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. As I laid there on my bed with the late afternoon sun streaming through the blinds and bathing my room in light, I determined that I was going to be with Jacob, and nothing was going to stop me.

__________________________________***

The next day, a Thursday, I had to walk to school again. Actually, it wasn’t so much that I had to as it was that I wanted to. I was still a bit mad at my mom for not letting me stay with Ken for the weekend, and the last thing I wanted to do was be stuck in the car with her. Besides, there was a better chance I’d catch Jacob if I walked.

I distracted myself from the bitter cold by thinking of how I was going to apologize to Jacob for the way I had treated him. I thought of how I would say yes if he asked me out. I’d be cool about it, as if it happened all the time. I thought of these things and more as I walked down Main Street towards Grand Heights. When I got there, though, everything changed. The knot in my mind known as my ego began to unravel, and my conscience returned. What was I thinking? I can’t do this...I can’t do this. I can’t— Then I saw him walk by.

“Jacob!” I called before I had really thought of what to say.

The look on his face when he realized who was calling him almost made me too sad to continue. I was an erratic heartbeat away from saying, “Nevermind,” and leaving the poor thing to live his life without me. Instead, I drew a deep breath and approached him. “Hey, you,” I smiled.

Unsure of how he should react, he simply echoed my greeting with a much weaker, more forced smile. “So...what’s up?” he said out of courtesy and obligation rather than genuine interest. His tone pained me.

“Nothing much,” I replied, trying to keep my composure. “Look, I wanted to apologize...”

“For what?” He was cold, but that was the least I felt I deserved.

“For how I treated you yesterday. I don’t know what came over me,” I lied. I had enough sense to know that telling him being with him had filled me with guilt wouldn’t fix anything. “I guess I was just having a bad day and I took it out on you. I’m really sorry.” I sub-consciously held my breath and waited for him to tell me that he could never forgive me, and that he never wanted to talk to me again. Then the most amazing thing happened: he smiled.

“It’s all right,” he said. “Everyone has days like those. Personally, I think the school’s chicken is to blame. There are just way too many hormones in that stuff.”

I laughed, naturally, and suddenly everything was better. My paranoia vanished—I knew I had overreacted. I should have known better than to believe that Jacob could hold a grudge against anyone for anything so petty—or so I thought. The truth of the matter was, I hardly knew enough about Jacob to make any conclusions about him. It didn’t matter, though; there would be plenty of time to get to know him. It would only be a matter of time before he’d be holding my hand, and running his fingers through my hair. Finally, I would have someone to gush about—

The shrill ring of the bell snapped me out of my dreamy state. “Aw man, I can’t be late again. My mom’ll go insane,” I groaned. That was hardly an exaggeration considering I’d been late a half dozen times since school had started, and my mom hadn’t exactly been happy with me lately.

“That was the last warning bell,” Jacob assured me. “You’ve got five minutes, you’ll make it.”

I looked into his eager eyes and smiled in spite of myself. Although I was having a mild panic attack, I replied, “You’re right, I think I will. I’ll see you later, then?”

“Of course,” he said. “I wouldn’t miss Spanish for anything.”

“Neither would I,” I said back confidently, my ego beginning to recover.

I thought again of how wonderful it feel to have his fingers interwoven with mine, and to feel him gently stroking my hair. My spirits were higher than ever before. I had a hunch that day was going to be memorable, and I was right.