The Initial Problem

I sprang out of my seat the very second the bell rang at 11:25, fast-walking down the hallway. It was Thursday, meaning I had to make a quick stop before meeting Carolyn and April for lunch. After shoving my Biology book and stack of handouts messily in my locker, I grabbed a quarter and squeezed it as I made my way toward the cafeteria, feeling the metal’s temperature rise from the heat of my palm. I was almost out of breath when I arrived at my destination, a table, and clicked the quarter on its plastic coated wood. A boy behind the table, Sam, looked at the coin, then me, and smirked.

         “I’m sure you won’t be disappointed,” he said with an indifferent, heavy exhale. “This week’s is good.” Sam handed me a large wad of paper and I smiled in return, cradling it to my chest. The smell of fresh news print filled me as I inhaled. To me, ever since five Thursdays ago, nothing in the world smelled so sweet.

         I bit my lip as my two best friends, Carolyn Maize and April Keller, inspected the school newspaper before I was allowed to read it. April’s exotic hazel eyes grew wide as she returned Carolyn’s grin. They nodded and slid the paper across the table. “It’s the best yet,” Carolyn mused, holding her head so a fountain of black, shiny hair surrounded her face, concealing her dark brown eyes.

         “Of course,” April’s blunt voice broke the sober atmosphere. “They get better every week. I’m telling you- Seth Riley is a literary genius.” I could feel my heart abruptly double in tempo as I lifted page three of the Newark High Press to my face, making sure to pick up every word. It was titled “As Always, For Rachelle Davis” and only four lines long.

Your eyes, like pools of crystal-

Lesser in value to only your heart.

Your heart, so caring and precious-

For which there is no price I wouldn’t pay.

         Just like every week, there was a poem dedicated to me on page three. Just like every week, the words in my dedication gave me a high that nothing else could. Just like every week, there was no author at the bottom, but only the initials S.R. I was more than sure that those stood for one person.

Seth Riley was perfection. He was in all honors classes, captain of the soccer team, and above all- gorgeous. His sandy blonde hair and dazzling smile made every girl in school swoon in his very presence, maybe even fainting for a smile or just a look. With all this, I couldn’t believe he could possibly like me. I ghosted through the halls of Newark high in worn sweatshirts and ill-fitting jeans, my wavy, light brown hair twisted around a pencil on the back of my head and my slate grey eyes enlarged like those of an alien’s by round, thick-rimmed glasses. Despite this, I knew it had to be Seth who wrote those poems- he was always walking around with an opened notebook in his hands, on top of being the only person who had the connections to get his own article on page three every week. Besides, who wouldn’t want to believe someone as flawless as Seth was writing poetry for them?

         Mirroring my thoughts, April said as low as she could manage, “And there he is.” I glanced over my shoulder to see, in all his shining glory, Seth Riley. He caught my stare and turned away just as quickly, strutting toward the vending machines. My heart sank as I turned back to face my friends. Carolyn noticed my thwarted expression and leaned forward to touch my arm.

         “He’s just waiting for the right time, Elle,” she said warmly. I bit my lip to hold back tears.

         April chewed her pizza as she spoke. “Waiting for what?” she asked, implying stupidity in Carolyn’s words.

         “Waiting for the right time to tell her the poems are from him,” she retorted quietly, a gleam of pain on her face. Carolyn was sensitive, and April knew exactly how to get under her skin.

         April rolled her eyes. “That’s not it at all,” She stated like a fact. “Boys are cowards. They don’t want to admit their feelings themselves. They want you to be the one to step up. They won’t change either, Rachelle, so you should just take charge.” She shot acid straight from her eyes to Carolyn’s, forcing her to surrender. Carolyn nodded toward me in agreement.

         Cringing in my seat, everything inside me suddenly surged with the fear of confronting Seth. I knew April meant well, but she didn’t really understand things from my perspective. As much as I didn’t like to think about it, there was a fact that was undeniable- April was pretty. April was very, very pretty- much prettier than me. Her hair was thick gold, waving to the small of her back, only complementing her petite frame. Sparkling, almond-shaped hazel eyes, a small button nose, and pursed pink lips appeared to be painted on her fair, angelic face- not a blemish to be seen. With her beautiful features came buckets of confidence, of which I had never known. I often found myself wondering what it was like to have such self-assurance.

         “I don’t know,” I whispered.

         April let out a sarcastic “Psh” while slumping back in her chair, arms folded. “Fine,” she laughed. “If you want to wait five years for him to give up and get over you, be my guest.” Her harsh words stung me like a needle. I blinked back tears.

         “I will take charge,” I choked out, my voice shaking. April raised one eyebrow at me skeptically. “Soon. I promise.” Her sister expression faded, and she grinned genuinely.

         “Good. Very, good, Rachelle, just wait. This will be good for you,” she squealed excitedly.

         I forced a smile. “Good.”

         My mom fixed my favorite food, ravioli, for dinner that night, but I couldn’t go so far as stabbing it with my fork. Ever since 11:32 that afternoon my heart had been cracking my ribcage, and I thought that with any extra fuel it would split open altogether.

         “Aren’t you hungry?” she asked worriedly.

         I shrugged and twirled a spoon around a cloth napkin, mumbling to myself. After a few more minutes of awkward air, only filled with the sound of clinking metal on glass, I put my plate in the refrigerator and headed up to my room. Mom seemed puzzled, but didn’t say another word. Upstairs, in my small blue room, I threw myself onto the carpeted floor, reaching as far back under my bed as I could to retrieve a cardboard box.

         Opening the box, I was welcomed with the same comforting scent I was offered every Thursday just after giving a quarter to Sam. My fingers rifled through the stack of articles, picking out page three of each one. The beautifully pieced together words had the same effect on me each time I read them- I was soaring. SR, SR, SR, I read the bottom of every one until my mind began to read the initials as Seth Riley, Seth Riley. Faultless Seth Riley, addressing my beauty, praying to be mine. Stunning Seth Riley, dedicating his talent to me week after week. Unreachable Seth Riley, reaching out to me. I was living in a dream, and the last thing I wanted was to lie back in my bed to wake up. Late into the night I sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, reciting the words of Seth in my head. Soon, I thought. I will tell him his secret has been revealed. I will tell him, and he will be mine. He will hold me close while soft music begins to play and words scroll in front of us, The End. Everyone will applaud while we grin into each others’ eyes, streaming tears of joy for our happily ever after.

         I woke up the next morning sprawled on the floor, articles spread about me and dry saliva encrusted on my left cheek. The clock read 6:13- my alarm would go off in two minutes. My diminutive bedroom was still dark, and there was a slight draft of cool January air coming through the window. I pulled the comforter off my still-made bed to wrap around my prickling arms, resting my weary head between my shoulder and the wall. Thoughts about Seth slithered into my mind as I was trying to make myself warm for the two minutes of rest I had left. How would I do it? When could I talk to him? He wasn’t in any of my classes besides Spanish, and I wasn’t fluent enough in that language to start up a full-blown conversation quite yet. I guess I could chat with him in the halls… but wouldn’t that be a little weird, to randomly converse with someone I never had any contact with? Though he was my secret admirer, it was his own fault for choosing to be keen on someone so paranoid. What I needed was a way to learn more about him. If only I had more confidence…

         Confidence. And then it hit me. I could have April talk to him for me. April wasn’t afraid of anything, especially not people, and she could easily find some things out about Seth Riley. After all, she was the one pushing me to go after him. Yes, April would be my secret weapon. April would do the talking and Carolyn would be the interpreter. Everything was beginning to appear so much easier as it all fell into place. There was a helping hand for every task to be held.

         “That’s a fabulous idea!” April said eagerly as I explained my idea in third hour English. “He’s in my P.E. class next hour, and I’ll totally talk to him. To be honest, I was probably going to help out anyway.” She combed her fingers through her hair and shrieked under her breath, beaming at me with bright eyes.

         “Thank you so much, April. I really owe you,” I responded. Carolyn can do some inferring. She’s really good with people stuff,” I added quickly. April’s eyebrows knitted together and she pursed her lips in thought. She then leaned forward, her face just inches from mine.

         “Rachelle, I don’t think that’s the best idea,” she said. Her voice was just above a whisper. I cocked my head to the side a little and digested her expression.

         “Why?”

         April sighed. “I know Carolyn is pretty smart with people, but this is a boy. She doesn’t have much experience in that field. Don’t worry. Just leave everything to me.” She winked and turned back in her seat to face the front. I stung a little for Carolyn.

         Carolyn was less excited about the scheme, but I figured that was just because she was naturally less animated than April. “So she’s talking to him right now?” she mumbled to me during a Biology lecture.

         “I hope so. I mean, it’s April, so she was probably on it right away.” My voice was a notch higher in excitement, and Mr. Greene glared at me. I really couldn’t help it. I was thrilled. In just a few more minutes, I would learn more about my admirer, and maybe even speak with him for the first time. With shaky hands, I failed trying to calm my bouncing knee. It looked like I had no choice but to give in to the adrenaline. Lucky for me, it had some time to wear off before I would see Seth.

         I sat beside Carolyn at our usual lunch table, anxiously watching the door as she picked over her bagged lunch. “Where is she?” I muttered about every fifteen seconds.

         “I don’t know,” Carolyn would respond every thirty. It was clear she was getting annoyed with me, but after what seemed like forever, April finally walked into the cafeteria. She paused in front of the doors, smiling and nodding at someone. I craned my neck to see it was… Seth. Seth! She was actually talking to Seth for me! My stomach thrashed like a fish on land as she approached the table and I waited to hear what she- er, he- had to say.

         The very second April was in her seat, she began talking quickly and eagerly. “Oh my gosh, Seth is so cool! We talked for like, the whole class. Coach Mayer even had to yell at us to stop talking! We kept talking though, and we talked all the way here!”

         “Well, what did he say? What did you find out for me?” I interrupted abruptly. April jerked back a little, staring at me like a deer caught in my headlights. “You just told me how much you talked. What exactly did you talk about?”

         April paused. “Um, well, you know. He… plays… soccer.” I could tell she was picking out her words carefully. “And, uh…” Her face suddenly lit up in recollection. “He… gets salad every day for lunch!” she exclaimed, nodding toward the salad bar. “And he’s last in line! Go talk to him!”

         I froze, looking to Carolyn for reassurance. “That’s a great idea,” She said very slowly, enunciating each syllable. “Go.” I turned back to April, who was nodding her head at me, and then took a deep breath.

         “Okay.” I sighed and got up to get in line, taming down frizzy pieces of hair that had stuck out of my usual bun. Behind me, I heard bickering between my two friends, and turned around to see Carolyn shaking her hands in emphasis while April raised hers in surrender. I figured it was just a usual squabble, though, so I continued on my way.

         The walk from our table to the line at the salad bar seemed to stretch for miles. A lump formed in my throat so big that I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Then Seth turned, and I saw his face. In his hand he held a blue notebook with a pen held in the spirals, and I remembered my reason for all of this. I picked up my pace and stood right behind him. He didn’t take notice to my presence, but just stood facing forward, cracking his neck. The revolting snapping and popping helped influence me to say something, even if it was just to make it stop.

         “Hi,” I muttered, staring at the floor. He turned around, raising his eyebrows and nodding once.

         “Hi,” he responded blankly, then turned back around. Everything inside me that pushed me to say that one word rushed out as swiftly as it had in. My tongue was tied.

         “I’m Rachelle,” I stuttered like an idiot. My head began to ache and my stomach swirled with embarrassment. The only way it could have gotten worse is if I ran in the bathroom to puke, so I kept my feet planted where they were. Seth spun his entire body around to face me, one end of mouth pulled up into a crooked smile.

         “Yeah. Rachelle. I had a talk with your friend a little while ago,” he said casually.

         I smiled without showing my teeth and nodded subtly, looking to my left. “She told me.”

         “It was…” I looked up to see his eyes were illuminating a mysterious type of light, like a single flickering bulb in a dark room. “Interesting.”

         There was definitely something about April and Seth’s conversation she wasn’t telling me about. Did she tell him I knew? Did she tell him more about me? Did she ask him personal questions about himself? Whatever it was, the way he looked at me made me feel nervous, and I couldn’t find it within myself to talk to him anymore.

         “I’m not hungry,” I blurted into dead air just beyond his shoulder. He glanced over it to see no one there.

         “Um, okay… I’ll see you later then,” Seth said, and turned back to face the front of the line again.

         April and Carolyn were still at it when I got back. It appeared that April was defending herself, smoothly like only she could, and Carolyn’s shoulders were quivering like she was on the verge of tears. “What’s going on with you two?” I asked as I took my seat. The two straightened up immediately at the sound of my voice. April smiled and shook her head.

         “Oh, it’s nothing,” she told me with a phony grin slapped between her cheeks. “Right, Car?”

         I looked at Carolyn. Her fists were clenched so hard that I could see blue and green veins bursting through her olive skin, and she was glaring hard at the lunch table. I leaned forward and looked at her face to see her eyes were shiny with frustrated tears. “Yes,” she finally choked, her voice cracking on the word. “Everything’s fine.”

         I was practically kicking my own back with every ungraceful step on my way to fifth hour computers. How could I make a fool of myself like that in front of Seth? I’m Rachelle. He’s my secret admirer, for Pete’s sake, of course he knows who I am! My skull began to throb again. Well, he already did like me. Maybe a few not-so-poised, quirky habits wouldn’t shake his feelings for me. I could always just wait a little while longer to see if there’s still an article next week. Then I’ll know for sure if I didn’t totally blow it. I ran a hand over my hair but only felt steel wool, further gassing my burning humiliation.

         “Rachelle?” a soft, yet masculine voiced called from behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see Sam, his outgrown auburn hair fallen over his eyes and a heap of textbooks in his arms.

         “Hi Sam,” I smiled as I spoke, relieved to be talking to someone who wouldn’t mention Seth.

         “Did you write down the Bio homework? I totally, um, missed it.” His hands fumbled and a binder slipped. I paused for him as his body contracted, jutting out his left knee to catch the tumbling folder before it got a chance to hit the floor. After all was well and we were walking again, I pondered his question.

         “Oh!” I exclaimed in remembrance. Thinking back, I was too preoccupied with thoughts of Seth and April to jot down the assignment. “No, I’m sorry, Sam. I didn’t get it either. I guess I wasn’t really… paying attention.”

         Sam smiled as his chest heaved with silent laughter. “Yeah. Me too,” he said, but it almost seemed he was talking more to himself than me. I picked up speed, thinking our conversation was over, until he caught up again.

         “So what did you think of that last Ode to Rachelle in the paper?” he asked with a smirk. I rolled my eyes dramatically and looked at him as a response. He snickered, continuing to look straight at me. “I didn’t get to watch you read it this week.” There was an edge of disappointment in his tone.

         I thought for a few seconds. “It was really, really nice,” I sighed. “If I could repeat my reaction for you, Sam, I would. Trust me.” This made both of us laugh leniently.

         “Do you know who’s writing them yet?” Sam mocked with a grin.

         “Yes.” I was confident in my answer.

         There was a pause. “Who?”

         “Can’t tell you.” I replied coolly. “Not yet. Pretty soon it will be obvious, though, because I like him, too.”

         “Tell me!” Sam’s voice was full of intensity, just above a whisper.

         I leaned to place my hand on the side of his head, whispering “Seth” into his ear. I could feel his skin crawl from the soft gust of breath that hit his face. He shuddered just as I pulled away, then recomposed himself and shrugged.

         “Excellent guess, Sherlock. Could be,” he mumbled, and turned into the library.

         There is possibly nothing in the world more mind-numbing than practicing making spreadsheets on the computer. Fatefully, that was exactly what my fifth period computer class and I had to do. I got the idea to sign on my instant messenger while working on some phony budget chart after noticing the liveliness of my peers. There was no way anyone could sit so attentively while staring at a white screen, continually pointing, clicking, and typing until it took no brain power whatsoever, drilled into your mindset like programming a robot.

         Almost everyone in my computer class was online, so I started up an exchange with a boy who sat a few rows ahead of me that was almost as dull as the spreadsheets. I was about to give up and go back to working diligently when a new instant message popped on the screen, startling me so I jumped in my seat a little.

I am SR: Hey. How’s computer class going?

         My heart started thumping harder than it ever had before. S.R. It was Seth. Seth was messaging me- now. He had said at lunch “See you later,” but I never imagined it would be this soon, this personal. I was relieved he couldn’t see my scarlet cheeks and sweaty palms from where he sat as I typed my response.

Rachelle9Dav: Hi. Boring.

         The next few moments it took for him to reply felt like hours as I stared at the window on the screen, anticipating what he might say and what I could say back.

I am SR: Sorry. I know the feeling.

         I glimpsed across the room to see Seth, obviously attuned to whatever was on his screen, though his friends who sat beside him were all crowded around another computer. He knows the feeling because he’s in the class, too! All of my hunches were confirmed: S.R. really was Seth. All I had to do was get him to admit it… and I couldn’t wait any longer.

Rachelle9Dav: So are you going to tell me who you are soon?

I am SR: Why? Don’t you already know who I am?

Rachelle9Dav: Yes, and I like you, too.

I am SR: Trust me, Rachelle. I don’t think you do…

Rachelle9Dav: I do!

I am SR: Okay. Keep thinking that. Just please don’t do anything rash, Rachelle. I have to go.

         Seth signed off. That was my very first real conversation with him, and it was miserable to see it end so abruptly. Why had it? Did I scare him away by being so upfront and saying I liked him too? I wished the whole secret admirer thing could be a whole lot easier. He shoves notes in my locker, and eventually comes out with who he is. Why couldn’t it work like that? This is real life. Things are only ever easy on television, where the fate of each and every character is preset. They have no decisions or choices to make, but there’s always someone behind the scenes choosing what they will say and think, who they will love and hate, ingeniously twisting every detail around a storyline. These plots are more than often complicated but, unlike the real world, simple to unknot. I decided to work on my spreadsheet until the hour was over.

         Despite the brief drama that occurred at lunch, April and Carolyn came over that night for our customary Friday sleepover. After four DVD rentals were watched and one large pizza was eaten, the three of us squeezed into my room, Carolyn and I on the floor and April sprawled across the bed, all of us in sweats and tank tops. We talked about everything under the sun- that started with Seth and ended with Riley. Carolyn was acting really awkward throughout the whole discussion, though, changing the subject every chance she got.

         “I’ve seen him at soccer practice- with his shirt off,” April said to us, but her eyes were far away.

         “Remember when I attempted to take up soccer in seventh grade?” Carolyn forced a laugh with her words. April rolled her eyes at her for changing the subject again, but I was a little relieved. It made me uncomfortable for April to speak of Seth like that. Already, by some kind of miracle, he liked me, but I wouldn’t want to push it by having the effortlessly beautiful April going after him.

         “Carolyn, it’s okay to talk about boys,” April snapped. “Even boys with their shirts off!”

         “Well, I just thought we could talk about something other than Seth for once,” Carolyn retorted.

         “Well, I just thought you could talk about Seth for once! I mean, come on. Contribute a little, Carolyn. We’re girls, and we want to talk about boys. Right, Elle?” I was dreading the moment that I would be dragged into this bickering. Sure, I wanted to talk about Seth, but not if April was going to in a way that made me uneasy.

         “Actually, April, I’m a little tired of talking about Seth, too,” I murmured. Before she could say anything else, my cell phone rang. I pulled it out of the pocket of my baggy grey sweatpants and looked at the front screen. “It’s a private number.”

         Carolyn looked around, grinning slyly. “Should we answer it?” she whispered.

         “Don’t be stupid, Carolyn,” April sneered, pushing herself up on the bed. “Rachelle, you’d better answer that right now or I’ll do it myself.”

         I opened my phone and pressed the speakerphone button as I uttered generically, “Hello?”

         “Hi. Rachelle?” The voice on the other end was muffled and warped through the phone, but it was clearly male.

         “This is Rachelle…” I prompted. My heart was crouched at the starting line, ready to take off any second.

         “Hi,” he repeated. “This is… um, S.R.”

         I cupped my hand over my mouth, dropping my cell on the white carpeted floor. Carolyn and April looked at each other, stunned.

         “You guys, it’s Seth!” I whispered to them so he couldn’t hear. They glanced at each other again and nodded slowly. “Hi, S.R,” I spoke into the phone. “How did you get my number?”

         “A, a friend gave it to me,” Seth stumbled over his words. “But the reason I called is, um, I w-wrote you another poem and I was, um, wondering if you, um, wanted me to r-read it to you now.”

         I gasped. Tears began to form in my eyes. “Sure,” I squeaked, turning the speakerphone off and putting the phone to my ear.

         “Who am I?” he began softly. “A dark figure tracing your shadow. No form, only a voice.” The farther he got, the less tense he sounded, and the poetry started to flow easily. “You do not know my name or face. Who am I? If you don’t know, then I am nothing.” I tried to suppress tears from my friends who sat just inches across from me, but when I blinked they spilled over my eyelids.

         “You’re not ‘nothing’,” I whispered into the phone. “To me, you’re everything.” There was a pause on the other end of the line as Carolyn and April exchanged a glance.

         “That’s all I needed to hear,” he finally said. “Thank you, Rachelle. Bye.”

         He waited until I mumbled “Bye” before hanging up. I looked up at my friends after closing the phone, my cheeks streaked with tears. Their faces had identical astonished looks.

         “You really like him, don’t you?” Carolyn asked gently, eyelashes brushing her cheeks as she looked down at the floor.

         “No, Car,” I whispered, shaking my head. “I think I love him.”

         April and Carolyn ended up falling asleep shortly after, when the conversation turned dull. Every topic seemed so awkward, we just quit altogether. I wasn’t bothered by that at all. It gave me plenty of time to think, which was comforting. After everything that had happened just in the past few days, it was nice to lie down and reflect, accompanied by only darkness and the soft purr of my friends’ snores.

         Tears continued to roll down my face for so long that I decided not to even bother wiping them away. My hurricane of emotion was overwhelming. Where I currently stood with Seth was heartrending. We were parallel, each of our eyes gazing into the others’ and arms outstretched. The only thing keeping us apart was a wall of fear, uncertainty, and rank, invisible yet impenetrably thick. Never without a tiny crack in the wall would our paths ever cross, would our thoughts ever be shared, would we ever fall in love. Just from this flaw in the system, now we have, but the rest of the barrier is keeping us apart. I didn’t know how he was feeling, but it was crushing me. He was right there, but there was so much holding me back. I loved him, but because of who I was, there was nothing I could do about it. I quietly sobbed until my throat went dry and I too fell asleep.

         Carolyn left at about noon the next day to go shopping with her mom, leaving me alone with April. Right away I asked April to please not talk about Seth, knowing she wouldn’t give in without a fight. To my surprise, she agreed in an instant, flicking on the T.V. and surfing through the channels. I tried to keep my mind off of what happened last night, but sometimes Seth’s words would creep into my mind. A dark figure tracing your shadow. No form, only a voice. I glanced at April, who was now giggling at an old sitcom, and tried to push my thought away. Who am I? If you don’t know, then I am nothing. I began to cry.

         April shot off the couch, crossing my living room to grab my hand. “We need to go do something,” she ordered. I looked up to see her perfect face now distorted with concern.

         “Okay,” I said. She was right, sitting around and moping was not going to do me any good. “Where do you want to go?”

         She flipped through the movie channels, dramatically expressing her distaste for each one. “How about we go to see a movie?” she suggested.

         I shrugged. “Sure. As long as it’s a comedy.”

The smell of hot popcorn oil and sight of random stains on the cosmic carpeted floor that usually made me sick to my stomach strangely put me at ease when we stepped into the cinema. Any place would be better than home or school. We realized the only comedy movie that was playing was “Chihuahuas in Space,” which April rolled her eyes at. The two of us bought tickets for “Slaughter Mansion,” a horror movie that we would be about two minutes late for. We figured it wouldn’t be a big deal since it would most likely have barely any plotline at all.

         Everyone in the theater glared as we made our tardy entrance, sitting right by the aisle only a few rows back. Our hunches were true- the movie was incredibly easy to fall into without the opening. About halfway through it, I heard laughing just as the fifth victim was about to be massacred- a petite bleach blonde with a bloodcurdling shriek. I turned around to see who else but Seth sitting in the very back row, alone. He caught my stare and smiled, nodding his head once.

         Something rushed into me that I had never felt before, eliminating any surprise I felt from seeing Seth there. I wasn’t myself anymore. It was like the candid belief that Seth was the one publishing clandestine verses, and then being recognized, had allowed me to break out of my shell. Never again would I be afraid to be Rachelle Davis, because Seth liked Rachelle Davis. Not everything I said would sound stupid. My glasses weren’t too big and my hair wasn’t too dry. The flapping sleeves I wore every day didn’t make my already thin arms look lanky. None of my flaws seemed negative anymore, because Seth liked them about me. Just that one ounce of approval gave me more security than I had ever felt in my whole life.

I sprang out of my seat, just like I did after the bell rang every Thursday at 11:25 to read the lovely words of S.R. The only difference was I wasn’t running for S.R. anymore- I was running for Seth. This was it. This was the moment I had been picturing for so long. As I made my way up the steps and to his theater seat, I prayed the orchestra would be ready for when the moment came, and someone would do something about shutting that dreadful movie off.

         Seth’s eyes were on me the entire time I strode toward him. No one else seemed to notice. That was exactly how I wanted it- this was our moment. I wasn’t going to let anything ruin it, including my quivering body and overactive gag reflex. Seth was now only a foot in front of me, and I planted both feet firmly on the sticky floor. He tilted his head and looked at me.

“Can I help you?” Seth asked smoothly, smiling politely.

         I had trouble finding my voice, and when I did, it was just a whisper. “S.R,” My trembling voice choked out. Tears of mixed emotion began to blur my vision of his glorious face. I blinked them back, swallowing my dry throat to prepare myself for more words. “It was you. You are S.R.”

         Seth smiled at his feet as he sucked in a slow breath and looked up at me again. Anxiousness was so thick in the air it pressed on my shoulders, crushing my spine. Others who were watching the movie shushed us.

         “No. I’m not,” he replied blankly, shaking his head.

         “Yes, you are,” I argued. Curious heads began to turn our way. “Your initials are S.R. You write me, Rachelle Davis, a poem every week in the school newspaper. You called me last night. You are S.R!” The volume of my voice had risen louder than I ever thought possible. Some snickers hissed through the people around us, while others became more aggravated.

         Seth stood up, his face towering a near foot above mine. “No. I’m. Not.” He spoke slowly like I was a young, stubborn child, and he was a frustrated parent.

          “Yes you are,” I whimpered. “You have to be. Your initials… and April talked to you for me… and you’ve always got a notebook with you…”

Seth was the next person to laugh. “Um, it’s called homework? And I wasn’t talking to April about you. You didn’t even come up in the conversation.” The way he said “you” was so cold, I felt like I would be frozen where I was standing forever. I couldn’t even make my lips work to produce more words. He continued, showing off for the audience around us. “And about the whole S.R. thing, I wouldn’t waste my time chasing him if I were you. I don’t know of any guy in his right mind who would write poetry for a girl like you.” More tears began streaming from my eyes, hot against my cheeks and salty in my mouth. I tried to breathe but only gagged, sobs breaking my airstream. Seth suddenly sat down and smiled. He was looking past me.

         I turned around to see Carolyn standing in the middle of the aisle, a large bucket of popcorn and two sodas in her hands. “Rachelle…” she whispered, trembling. April was standing behind her. Within a beat I figured out exactly what was going on. Everything around me began spinning, my head felt as if it had been stabbed in the temple, and the worse of all possible things happened. I threw up, right in Seth’s lap.

         Before I knew it, I was in the restroom washing out my mouth. April and Carolyn were standing behind me, watching. When I was finished, I straightened up and looked at Carolyn in the mirror. “You were with Seth, weren’t you?” I asked quietly.

         She nodded her head, looking down. “We didn’t want you to know, Elle. I never meant to hurt you. I’m so sorry,” she blurted desperately. She had said we, and I felt like I was going to vomit again.

         I looked at April. “You knew?” was all I could say.

         “Yeah,” she muttered, arms crossed, staring blankly to the right. I spun on my heel to face her.

         “You knew and you didn’t tell me?”

         April looked at Carolyn, and then me again. “It was kind of a hard position, Rachelle. You’re my friend, but so is Carolyn. She asked me not to.”

         “When I asked you to talk to him… what were you talking about?”

         She paused, and gestured towards Carolyn. I snapped my head to look at her.          

“Why, Carolyn?” I whispered. “You knew how much I liked him. Why?”

         She shook her head, still refusing to look me in the eye. “He asked me,” she finally said. That was all it took to set me off, and I began to stomp out of the restroom.

         “Rachelle, wait,” Carolyn pleaded from behind me. I stopped, but couldn’t bring myself to face them.

         “Can’t we just forget about this?” April asked. “Forget this ever happened and go back to normal?” I shook with fury and began to cry, turning to face them. It didn’t even take a second of assessment before I knew what I had to say.

         “How can everything go back to normal?” I almost yelled. “How can I ever trust you two again?” With that, I was gone.

         Word spread fast, and that next week of school, there was no place I could go where ridicule wouldn’t find me. It seemed like everyone would point and laugh, whispering to each other and hissing “S.R.” in my direction. Sometimes I would even pass by Seth in the halls, who couldn’t even look at me and keep a straight face. No one in school was on my side. Carolyn and April were kind enough to find a new place to sit at lunch so I could eat at our usual table by myself.

         Thinking back on that day at the movie theater, I grasped how wrong I was- I was not in love with Seth. I was in love with what I thought he was, from the poetry, the phone call… For all intents and purposes, I was in love with S.R, whoever he was. After what happened, though, I had no interest in finding out who he was.

From that whole mess, I know of at least one positive outcome. I realized that there was nothing wrong with being me, not just because I thought Seth liked me, but because there never was anything wrong to begin with. Even if there was no S.R. out there, I now understood that every quirky habit, every unfitted outfit, and every wiry hair that grew out of my head were just what made me unique, and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that. Seth, with his unapproachable stance, had taught me to love myself.

It was already showing, from the minute Carolyn and April approached me in the bathroom. The old me would have backed down and cry my eyes out for a day or two, but then go back to my friends in fear that I would never make any more. Instead, I demanded explanations. I questioned their judgment. I stood up for myself. I stood up to April. No one I knew could ever do that, especially not me.

In the end, when their answers didn’t satisfy me, I did what would have been best in the long run and left. Sure, I would be walking out alone, making the decision to live my every day life unaccompanied, but at least I knew that I would never be hurt by them again.

         I ate slowly at my forsaken lunch table, taking a swig of milk to wash down the peanut butter that had coated the inside of my throat. Students were buzzing about, not one stopping by to acknowledge my presence. That was okay, I wasn’t really expecting anyone. Like clockwork I chewed another bite of my sandwich and drank a sip of milk in peace. I was actually so entranced in every tiny movement I made that I hardly noticed that someone had taken a seat next to me.

         “Hi, Sam,” I greeted. He looked around the room, his eyes finally landing on my face.

         “Rachelle,” he began. I looked up into his eyes. They were smoldering with emotion, and almost frightened me, but I still didn’t look away. “I’m sorry.”

         Confused, I asked, “Sorry for what?”

         Sam spoke very quietly, pausing between each sentence. “I’m sorry you were hurt. I’m sorry you’re alone. I’m sorry you were deceived. I’m sorry Seth is such a jerk,”-he shuddered slightly with anger-“and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” He then stood up and sauntered away. I was compelled to follow him or call him back, but restrained myself. Maybe I would call him, or maybe I would message him in computer class. Either way, I felt the unbearable need to talk to him soon.

         That Thursday, there was no poem written by Sam Richards on page three.