My Heart in His Fingerless Gloved Hand

I was avoiding Meredith. We had Economics class together in the morning, where she had been trying anxiously to talk to me, but thankfully our teacher happened to be really attentive and squashed her vocal attempts to capture my attention. Now it was lunch and I was hiding in the bathroom ignoring the growling of my stomach. Meredith and I shared the same lunch period; she usually sat with her group of friends while I sat at the end of some table, wishing I was invisible. However, some days she would come over and try to make my life a living hell, like today.

And I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction. So that’s why I was skipping lunch and spending my lunch hour in the girl’s bathroom, which happened to reek like baby powder and hairspray.

I didn’t know why she kept bothering me when there were plenty of other people for her to pretend to be their best friend one day and then blackmail them the next. She was there when I broke it off with my ex-boyfriend (my first and my last), and was witness to what went down that night at the school dance last year, but that didn’t give her special privileges to butt into my personal life. She didn’t seem to comprehend that, though.

I was sitting Indian-style on the cold tile floor, absently pushing on my cuticles, when the door to the bathroom slammed open, much to my faint amusement. I didn’t bother looking up, because it wasn’t my business and I didn’t really care.

“I knew you had to be in here,” Casey said. She came over and sat down beside me; I could feel her gaze boring into my head. “Why aren’t you at lunch?”

I shrugged and looked at her. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not that hungry anyway.”

Casey gave me a skeptical look. “You never skip lunch, Raylin.”

I sighed and shoved my hands into the pockets of my sweater. My eyes traced over all the little designs I had doodled on my jeans with a Sharpie. “Well, I am today.”

“Why?”

“Do I need a reason?”

She ignored me. “Is it because of Meredith? She was looking for you again, you know.”

“Meredith can go rot in hell for all I care.”

“I second that,” Casey said. She grinned, flashing her teeth and exposing her dimples.

I managed to force up a smile in return. I guess if I allowed anyone to be my friend, it would have been Casey. She had really pale skin and red hair, but somehow she managed to have brown eyes instead of blue or green. Casey always looked out for me, even when I was rude to her and tried to push her away—she wasn’t fazed by my lone wolf antics.

“Did you find out what she wants?” I asked. What I meant was, was she playing my friend today or was she playing the enemy?

Casey knew what I was getting after, like always. She told me, “Meredith is in friends-forever mode. I wonder what she’s up to.”

I sat there as Casey voiced all her conspiracy theories. She thinks everyone has an alternative motive, especially Meredith. It wasn’t such a distorted way of looking at people, I thought, because there’s always a reason behind the things people did.

A few minutes later the bell rang, making Casey groan. “I’m not ready to get back to academics,” she whined. “Lunch is way too short.”

I agreed with her, but I didn’t let her know that. I rose to my feet and pulled Casey up by her arm. “Come on,” I said. “You can’t afford to be late for class again.” My words made Casey sprint out of the bathroom, lugging me along with her. I barely managed to stop her so that I could grab my books from my locker; then we were running again, weaving in and out of the swarm of bodies. We were lucky no teachers saw us, because we would have gotten detention.

♫

I was cornered after the final bell rang. I had my messenger bag slug over my shoulder and was making my way to the bus circle (I was seventeen and didn’t have my drivers license, much less a car) when someone grabbed my wrist. I expertly slid my hand through their grip and turned around.

“I’m so glad I found you. Raylin, we have to talk,” Meredith said. Her voice was a bit too cheery for my liking. She had her wavy bleached blond hair up in a ponytail and was wearing a shirt that said Abercrombie.

I shrank away from her and glared. “Go away and leave me alone. I have a bus to catch.”

She smiled sweetly (sooo fake). “Aw, don’t be that way. I just want to talk for a few seconds, it won’t take long.”

“Well, your seconds are wasting away then,” I muttered. I folded my arms over my chest, waiting.

Meredith scowled slightly but it vanished from her face as an overly-bright smile replaced it. “Well, I just wanted to invite you to come see a band with me tonight.”

I stared at her. I asked, “Why would I want to do that?”

“Because it would be fun and you need to get out more.”

“You don’t know anything about what I need,” I spat.

She leveled her gaze at me. “I know you need to get over the fact that your mom died four years ago. And that you need more socialization than Casey. I mean, really, you are such a loner.”

I bit my lip to keep from saying anything. I hated her, I really did. I hated myself even more because I let her get to me.

“Maybe I like being alone,” I said bitterly. “Have you ever thought of that?”

She shrugged and flicked her hand in a dismissive manner. “I might have, but I figured some socialization would do you good.”

“That isn’t your decision to make.”

“You’re right, which is why I asked your dad if it was okay and he absolutely loved the idea.” Meredith said, rather smug.

I gaped at her. “What? Why would you do that?”

She sighed impatiently. “Because I knew you would say no. Honestly, stop being so dense.”

I couldn’t believe it—I couldn’t believe she had actually gone and conspired against me with my own father...for a second time. Then again, going this far was something Meredith would do. She liked everything to go her way.

“I’ll pick you up at five,” she said. She started walking toward the student parking lot. “See you then, sunshine!”

I glared at the back of her head and muttered a few colorful words under my breath before climbing onto my bus. I didn’t like how I kept getting in these situations.

♫

Dad was still at work when I got home. He had no idea how lucky he was because had he been there he would have gotten a mouthful of my bad temper. My little sister was in the living room, playing video games. I picked up her Sponge Bob Square Pants backpack from where she had thrown it in the walkway and put it against the wall, where she wouldn’t trip over it.

“Hey squirt,” I said. I sat beside her on the couch and smoothed her long brown hair away from her face. “How was school?”

She ducked away from my hand, never taking her eyes off the TV. “Ray, come on, I’m trying to beat this level,” she cried. “Stop distracting me.”

“So pause the game so you can talk to me.” I made to grab the controller when she ignored me, but when she saw my hand she immediately paused the game.

“What?” she asked, exasperated.

I pretended to be hurt. “What? No hug? No hello?”

Ivy rolled her eyes. “You’re so weird, sis.”

I grinned wickedly and started to tickle her lightly. She finally squirmed away from me, laughing like a hyena.

“Would you mind if I went out for a bit, Ivy?” I asked her gingerly. “You’ll only be alone until dad comes home, but if you want me to stay I will.”

I hoped that she would beg me to stay, just so I could have a legitimate reason to get out of going with Meredith. My heart pounded as I waited for her answer. I was hoping, hoping, hoping…

“I’m not a kid,” Ivy admonished. “I’m eight years old and I can take care of myself. Go away so I can get back to my game, will you?”

And just like that, I was stuck with Meredith.

She came by right at five, like she said she would. To get back at her, I took my time walking to her car and buckling in my seatbelt. I was so slow that she accused me of being her great grandmother in disguise.

I was kind of surprised when she pulled into someone’s driveway. “What are we doing here?” I asked in a monotone.

Meredith shot me a weird look. “I’m taking you to see a band, remember?”

I raised my eyebrows as I looked over at the suburban house. “You wanted me to see a garage band?” Wow, so she really did want to torture me. I bet the band sounded horrible.

Meredith could read the emotions on my face and said, “Don’t think of them that way. I mean, the concert I took you to over the weekend were full of garage bands. They’re really good, so don’t say anything mean to them before you have a chance to hear them play. They’re friends of mine, so be nice, okay?”

I nodded and hopped out of the car. I was kind of offended that she had accused me of not being nice. It should have been the other way around.

Meredith didn’t bother knocking on the door, but walked right in. I hesitated to follow her, but I stepped in before she had to drag me. It was weird walking into someone’s house like that. I hope they didn’t mind that I was forced to tag along.

I followed Meredith into the living room that was as spotlessly clean as the hallway. There was a fire place with little porcelain ornaments on the mantle and a few pictures placed around the room. There was a couch that wrapped around two walls, in the shape of an L, and there were three guys lounging on it. I recognized two of them immediately as the guys I played cards with at the concert.

The redhead was there, but I didn’t remember his name. He was dressed in all black: a fitted black tee-shirt, baggy black pants (with purple seams, multiple pockets, and sliver chains), and black combat boots. Despite his intimidating attire, he smiled warmly as we stepped into the room.

The cleaned-up looking blonde was there, too. Wearing a black turtle neck, hunter green corduroy pants, and artsy glasses—the only thing that really stood out was the red eyeliner that rimmed his eyes.

The last guy looked older, into his twenties. He had long brown hair and these purple cat-pupil eyes. His tee-shirt read Metallica and he had on a pair of faded blue jeans.

It took all of three seconds for my brain to process that information. It took maybe half of that to make me wish that I was invisible; invisible was comforting and safe. I kept my eyes trained on my scuffed up Nike sneakers.

“Hey guys,” Meredith chirped. She went to hug all three of them briefly while I hung back and practically molded myself into the wall.

“I’d like you all to meet my friend, Raylin,” she went on to say. I tried not to grimace at her choice of words, but I wasn’t entirely sure it was working because the redhead was looking at me funny. “Raylin, this is Waylen, Sergey, and Iggy.” She motioned from left to right from where they sat on the couch. Waylen was the redhead.

They all smiled at me and said hello. I wasn’t surprised that they didn’t remember. No one remembers me. I plastered a tentative smile onto my face, reminding myself not to be rude. Meredith instructed me to take off my jacket and leave it on the end of the couch. I obliged robotically.

“We’re missing one of our guys here,” Meredith said. She frowned, placing a hand on her hip. “Why isn’t he here, Waylen?”

Waylen shrugged. “He called a few minutes ago and said he was at the store, picking up some almonds. He should be here soon.”

“He better be.”

“Well, we can start practice without him,” said the blond one, Sergey. The others nodded and started filing out of the room. I was reluctant to follow, so to stall, I asked Meredith where I could find the bathroom. I gratefully followed her directions and let out a sigh of relief as soon as I locked myself in there.

I will not be depressed over this. Depression didn’t do me any good in the long run anyway. As much as I wanted to deny it, it hurt that I was forgotten so easily. My personality must not stand out enough to make a lasting impression. Either that or I didn’t let myself relax around people for my personality to become apparent. I walked around being a hollow shell, making me average, and making me blend in and ultimately invisible. That was what I set out to do. It was my personal mission to be unnoticed by the masses.

But that night of the concert, I liked to think I wasn’t just like any other average girl. I interacted with people, no matter somewhat awkwardly, and I even let myself have a tiny bit of fun. Is that why it hurt so much? Was I really so good at being forgotten that it was a trait I couldn’t turn off?

My brain pushed at my thoughts, trying to block them out. So much for not getting depressed—I was too emotionally weak to ward it off for long. I walked over to the sink and turned on the faucet to splash some cold water on my face. The water felt good on my skin and helped me snap back to reality. How long had I been wallowing in the bathroom?

I had probably been hiding long enough. If I were to stay here any longer, they would figure out that something was wrong, and that wasn’t acceptable. I would not let Meredith see me like that. I looked in the mirror and waited until my face became impassive before I left the bathroom to find the others.

The first thing I could hear was music—thumping, raw, and fast. Now all I had to do was figure out where it was coming from, which wasn’t really such a difficult task. I kind of felt like a dog as I used my ears to gauge where the music was the loudest. I even pictured myself having floppy ears and a tail. I tried not to think about how disturbed my mind was becoming.

I navigated my way to the den, where the door was open and the music pulsed up the stairs and vibrated my blood. I hesitated for a split second and then forced my feet to descend the stairs. The music became softer as I reached the bottom, and then I heard a voice. I was startled by how soft it was, even if it was a little husky. In a strange way, it seemed to fit with the hard music that I heard before. Not that I knew anything about music, but whatever.

The voice didn’t belong to Sergey, Waylen, or even Iggy, but it was still someone I recognized. I started at him, listening to his voice hypnotically as his vocal chords shifted between the combination of singing and screaming.

His black shaggy hair was falling into his eyes, framing his face, and the hair on the back of his neck was clinging to his skin from all the sweating he was doing. He had two lip piercings, one on each side of his lower lip, and he was wearing black and white striped fingerless gloves on hands that were fiercely gripping the microphone.

His warm honey brown eyes were focused on me just as intently as my eyes were focused on him. It was the other guy who was playing cards at the concert, the guy I had stood behind. Out of all the players, I only remembered his name. He smiled at me when the instrumentals replaced his voice and then slowly came to an end.

And then he said my name. Rezin had remembered me.