Chapter VIII
With his door closed and his ear buds in, Jamie opened his AP English book. He was supposed to be writing an analysis of the poem Sea Lullaby by Elinore Morton Wylie. And all he could do was contrast this poem to Helen. Granted he’d never seen an ocean for real, he’d been to the shores of Lake Michigan. He’d seen movies and TV with the ocean, surfing; sunbathing.
See, here was the thing about Helen: she didn’t act like any other girl he knew. When they’d first met, back in third grade, he’d initially thought she was a boy, until he’d learned her name. She had worn her hair super short, and she dressed like a boy. She didn’t hang out with the girls; she played keep away with the boys. She was as daring and fearless as any boy he knew. More so than he was in fact. Now in high school, Helen still didn’t dress like other girls, she didn’t wear jeans, she wore slacks, dressy pants like you’d wear to church. She wore shirts with a vest usually. She still kept her hair really short. She had her own style. She didn’t wear the kind of shoes girls wore either. Yes, he’d even noticed that detail, she wore boots or clogs. Yes, Helen had a style all her own.
They’d started hanging out together on the playground. They made up their own games that they played with some of the other fringe kids. Those who didn’t fit into any of the cliques that inevitably formed. Helen was usually the leader, and most of the kids that hung out with them were younger. Jamie learned to think of Helen as a buddy.
Then there was the fact that she was smart. Not just a little, she was probably the smartest person in the school. She wasn’t one who was always raising her hand in class or anything, but Jamie would bet she always knew the answer. In fact, usually the only time she raised her hand was to ask a question. A question he’d bet none of the other kids had even thought to ask.
And then there was Jamie himself. In middle school, when he was still eating his lunch with Helen, who still wore boy clothes and still kept her hair short, the boys in his gym class started calling him the “F” word. He’d had to look it up, in the huge Oxford English Dictionary - the one with print so small it came with it’s own magnifying glass. He knew he wasn’t one, knew Helen wasn’t one, and just blew off the intended insult - which only served to spur on the bullies.
He certainly wasn’t a jock. But he wasn’t a Mathlete either. He didn’t consider himself handsome - Not like Trevor Jensen, with his straight blond hair that always looked perfect, his naturally straight teeth, and his varsity jacket. Jamie was man enough to notice that Trevor was handsome. Whereas Jamie’s ears stuck out beyond the mop of dark curls. He wore braces that gave him a slight lisp because he had to curl his tongue around the wire in the top of his mouth. He didn’t really even have enough facial hair to shave. He was still skinny and gawky. The girls didn’t look at him. They all had eyes on the Trevors of the school -and there seemed to be a lot more Trevors than there were Jamies.
Where exactly did that leave him. He had just figured out his one-time playground buddy had hair that smelled like sage and sunshine. That her laugh made his toes tingle. There was no way a girl like Helen, who did not follow any rules but her own, would *like* like him. He certainly didn’t want to chance ruining what they had. He felt like he could be real with Helen, that he could just be Jamie - flaws and all, and if he did something stupid like try to kiss her, that would all end.
Jamie looked at the package from Clarence Greene. He was so thankful that Helen had been there to help with the research, he’d never had gotten this far on his own. Well, maybe, but if he was honest, no, he’d never have gotten this far. Stop thinking about kissing Helen. His mother poked her head in the door. Jamie panicked; he turned off his music. He thought quickly - had he said that part about kissing Helen out loud.
“Dinner’s almost ready, can you come set the table please.”
Jamie took a deep breath, moms sometimes seemed like they could read minds, and he didn’t want his poking around in his thoughts at all right now!
“Be right there, mom.”
As she shut the door, he he let out his breath. He was going to have to figure his feelings out.
Chapter IX
Helen had always felt different. She didn’t want to be a boy, she didn’t think she was a boy, but she didn’t feel like a girl either. She was just Helen. She did find that boys had more freedom, more leeway to be loud and boisterous if they wanted. Girls were quieter - unless they were squeely. Girls were more careful about their clothes, their shoes, careful not to muss or scuff. Boys had the freedom to run, slide, stain.
Helen had insisted on boy clothes when she was very young. Her mother had tried dresses and Helen had shrieked until her mother put her back in pants and a tee-shirt. Her mother had tried to grow Helen’s hair out, so that people would know she was a girl, but Helen found her mom’s sewing scissors and chopped her hair off so severely, that she really did look like a boy when the salon got done with neatening the job Helen had started.
When she started school, her mother tried to talk her into wearing clothing from the girl’s section. Helen flatly refused. When her mother insisted that the girl’s clothes were cute, Helen refuted that they didn’t look like her. When she looked in the mirror and she had on girl clothes, she looked like someone else. She wanted to look like herself.
By third grade, she’d found a group of kids who didn’t care what she looked like. She called her group the fringe kids. The outsiders who didn’t follow the rules of any clique or group. The fringe kids made up their own games on the playground, and often deferred to Helen as the leader. Jamie was one of the fringe kids. He’d always been a little shy, a little awkward. When they first met, he’d thought she was a boy until he learned her name. He didn’t seem to care what she looked like. And they were both in the dirt shooting marbles shortly thereafter.
She had nearly perfected her look by middle school. The other kids mostly avoided her as impossibly weird. She didn’t care. She and Jamie often met for lunch, with the other kids often taunting them. Helen learned early that being true to herself, and maintaining her goals was more important than paying attention to what the other kids thought.
Helen liked her look. It was a complete package: girl on the inside and boy on the outside. Both at the same time. That the kids at school didn’t get her was on them, not her. For as long as she could remember, her mother had been trying to make her just a bit more feminine.
“Why?” Helen would ask.
“It matters how other people see you.” Her mother argued.
“I think it matters more how I see myself” Helen would reply.
Helen resented that other people were always trying to “fix” her, to change her. Teachers, her parents, even her older cousin Jocelyn. If she just dumbed it down a little in class, if she just wore her hair a little longer. Maybe a barrette or two. Could she at least wear a dress to church? Helen found that standing up for herself meant doing it over and over. She learned to be stubborn about certain things and she was not willing to compromise herself for someone else’s view of how they thought things should be. She believed the only “Fix” she needed was that she be comfortable inside her skin. And to do that the image on the outside needed to match the image on the inside.
As long as she could remember, Helen had been fascinated with the night sky. The stars, the moon, the planets. All the possibilities swirling around in the cosmos. She had no fantasy that she’d ever travel to the stars, but she could study them. Her dream was to one day study and work at Caltech in Pasadena, Ca. Maybe even at JPL. To get there, she had to study.
She didn’t want to be distracted from her goal. So, she was floored that she found herself thinking about Jamie. A lot. To be honest, Helen wasn’t even sure she liked boys. Not that she liked girls in that way either. A week before Janet Walker moved away, Helen and she had shared a kiss. Helen hadn’t even been sure she was doing it right. For a few months after that, Helen and Janet stayed in touch via email, until Janet announced that she had a girlfriend, and she wouldn’t be emailing anymore. Helen was more relieved than anything.
As much as she hung out with boys in grade school, they were a crude lot when all was said and done. Jamie was more sensitive. It had been Jamie who had invited the younger kids from the fringes to join them back in grade school. She’d seen Jamie protecting kids in middle school from bullies who just taunted him even worse.
Maybe she saw a little of herself in him. Someone who wasn’t willing to compromise their principles for someone else’s opinion. Maybe that was it. Maybe it wasn’t the fact that his curls bounced when he was excited about something. Or how his eyes lit up. She and Jamie had been good friends in grade school and supportive friends in middle school. Now in high school, what did their friendship look like. She thought about the kiss she’s shared with Janet, but pictured Jamie instead. This time, she shivered. Did she classify Jamie as a distraction from her college goals? Jamie probably wouldn’t want her to change, but how could she be sure. They were getting along so well. How did they keep their companionable working selves if they were considering something else.
She tried to diagram the problem out, but only got more frustrated and started second guessing herself. It was time for bed anyway. She picked up her Algebra book and chose a problem to work on while she fell asleep. Her last thought was how easy it would be if only she had to solve for Jamie instead of X.
— Lkai
With his door closed and his ear buds in, Jamie opened his AP English book. He was supposed to be writing an analysis of the poem Sea Lullaby by Elinore Morton Wylie. And all he could do was contrast this poem to Helen. Granted he’d never seen an ocean for real, he’d been to the shores of Lake Michigan. He’d seen movies and TV with the ocean, surfing; sunbathing.
See, here was the thing about Helen: she didn’t act like any other girl he knew. When they’d first met, back in third grade, he’d initially thought she was a boy, until he’d learned her name. She had worn her hair super short, and she dressed like a boy. She didn’t hang out with the girls; she played keep away with the boys. She was as daring and fearless as any boy he knew. More so than he was in fact. Now in high school, Helen still didn’t dress like other girls, she didn’t wear jeans, she wore slacks, dressy pants like you’d wear to church. She wore shirts with a vest usually. She still kept her hair really short. She had her own style. She didn’t wear the kind of shoes girls wore either. Yes, he’d even noticed that detail, she wore boots or clogs. Yes, Helen had a style all her own.
They’d started hanging out together on the playground. They made up their own games that they played with some of the other fringe kids. Those who didn’t fit into any of the cliques that inevitably formed. Helen was usually the leader, and most of the kids that hung out with them were younger. Jamie learned to think of Helen as a buddy.
Then there was the fact that she was smart. Not just a little, she was probably the smartest person in the school. She wasn’t one who was always raising her hand in class or anything, but Jamie would bet she always knew the answer. In fact, usually the only time she raised her hand was to ask a question. A question he’d bet none of the other kids had even thought to ask.
And then there was Jamie himself. In middle school, when he was still eating his lunch with Helen, who still wore boy clothes and still kept her hair short, the boys in his gym class started calling him the “F” word. He’d had to look it up, in the huge Oxford English Dictionary - the one with print so small it came with it’s own magnifying glass. He knew he wasn’t one, knew Helen wasn’t one, and just blew off the intended insult - which only served to spur on the bullies.
He certainly wasn’t a jock. But he wasn’t a Mathlete either. He didn’t consider himself handsome - Not like Trevor Jensen, with his straight blond hair that always looked perfect, his naturally straight teeth, and his varsity jacket. Jamie was man enough to notice that Trevor was handsome. Whereas Jamie’s ears stuck out beyond the mop of dark curls. He wore braces that gave him a slight lisp because he had to curl his tongue around the wire in the top of his mouth. He didn’t really even have enough facial hair to shave. He was still skinny and gawky. The girls didn’t look at him. They all had eyes on the Trevors of the school -and there seemed to be a lot more Trevors than there were Jamies.
Where exactly did that leave him. He had just figured out his one-time playground buddy had hair that smelled like sage and sunshine. That her laugh made his toes tingle. There was no way a girl like Helen, who did not follow any rules but her own, would *like* like him. He certainly didn’t want to chance ruining what they had. He felt like he could be real with Helen, that he could just be Jamie - flaws and all, and if he did something stupid like try to kiss her, that would all end.
Jamie looked at the package from Clarence Greene. He was so thankful that Helen had been there to help with the research, he’d never had gotten this far on his own. Well, maybe, but if he was honest, no, he’d never have gotten this far. Stop thinking about kissing Helen. His mother poked her head in the door. Jamie panicked; he turned off his music. He thought quickly - had he said that part about kissing Helen out loud.
“Dinner’s almost ready, can you come set the table please.”
Jamie took a deep breath, moms sometimes seemed like they could read minds, and he didn’t want his poking around in his thoughts at all right now!
“Be right there, mom.”
As she shut the door, he he let out his breath. He was going to have to figure his feelings out.
Chapter IX
Helen had always felt different. She didn’t want to be a boy, she didn’t think she was a boy, but she didn’t feel like a girl either. She was just Helen. She did find that boys had more freedom, more leeway to be loud and boisterous if they wanted. Girls were quieter - unless they were squeely. Girls were more careful about their clothes, their shoes, careful not to muss or scuff. Boys had the freedom to run, slide, stain.
Helen had insisted on boy clothes when she was very young. Her mother had tried dresses and Helen had shrieked until her mother put her back in pants and a tee-shirt. Her mother had tried to grow Helen’s hair out, so that people would know she was a girl, but Helen found her mom’s sewing scissors and chopped her hair off so severely, that she really did look like a boy when the salon got done with neatening the job Helen had started.
When she started school, her mother tried to talk her into wearing clothing from the girl’s section. Helen flatly refused. When her mother insisted that the girl’s clothes were cute, Helen refuted that they didn’t look like her. When she looked in the mirror and she had on girl clothes, she looked like someone else. She wanted to look like herself.
By third grade, she’d found a group of kids who didn’t care what she looked like. She called her group the fringe kids. The outsiders who didn’t follow the rules of any clique or group. The fringe kids made up their own games on the playground, and often deferred to Helen as the leader. Jamie was one of the fringe kids. He’d always been a little shy, a little awkward. When they first met, he’d thought she was a boy until he learned her name. He didn’t seem to care what she looked like. And they were both in the dirt shooting marbles shortly thereafter.
She had nearly perfected her look by middle school. The other kids mostly avoided her as impossibly weird. She didn’t care. She and Jamie often met for lunch, with the other kids often taunting them. Helen learned early that being true to herself, and maintaining her goals was more important than paying attention to what the other kids thought.
Helen liked her look. It was a complete package: girl on the inside and boy on the outside. Both at the same time. That the kids at school didn’t get her was on them, not her. For as long as she could remember, her mother had been trying to make her just a bit more feminine.
“Why?” Helen would ask.
“It matters how other people see you.” Her mother argued.
“I think it matters more how I see myself” Helen would reply.
Helen resented that other people were always trying to “fix” her, to change her. Teachers, her parents, even her older cousin Jocelyn. If she just dumbed it down a little in class, if she just wore her hair a little longer. Maybe a barrette or two. Could she at least wear a dress to church? Helen found that standing up for herself meant doing it over and over. She learned to be stubborn about certain things and she was not willing to compromise herself for someone else’s view of how they thought things should be. She believed the only “Fix” she needed was that she be comfortable inside her skin. And to do that the image on the outside needed to match the image on the inside.
As long as she could remember, Helen had been fascinated with the night sky. The stars, the moon, the planets. All the possibilities swirling around in the cosmos. She had no fantasy that she’d ever travel to the stars, but she could study them. Her dream was to one day study and work at Caltech in Pasadena, Ca. Maybe even at JPL. To get there, she had to study.
She didn’t want to be distracted from her goal. So, she was floored that she found herself thinking about Jamie. A lot. To be honest, Helen wasn’t even sure she liked boys. Not that she liked girls in that way either. A week before Janet Walker moved away, Helen and she had shared a kiss. Helen hadn’t even been sure she was doing it right. For a few months after that, Helen and Janet stayed in touch via email, until Janet announced that she had a girlfriend, and she wouldn’t be emailing anymore. Helen was more relieved than anything.
As much as she hung out with boys in grade school, they were a crude lot when all was said and done. Jamie was more sensitive. It had been Jamie who had invited the younger kids from the fringes to join them back in grade school. She’d seen Jamie protecting kids in middle school from bullies who just taunted him even worse.
Maybe she saw a little of herself in him. Someone who wasn’t willing to compromise their principles for someone else’s opinion. Maybe that was it. Maybe it wasn’t the fact that his curls bounced when he was excited about something. Or how his eyes lit up. She and Jamie had been good friends in grade school and supportive friends in middle school. Now in high school, what did their friendship look like. She thought about the kiss she’s shared with Janet, but pictured Jamie instead. This time, she shivered. Did she classify Jamie as a distraction from her college goals? Jamie probably wouldn’t want her to change, but how could she be sure. They were getting along so well. How did they keep their companionable working selves if they were considering something else.
She tried to diagram the problem out, but only got more frustrated and started second guessing herself. It was time for bed anyway. She picked up her Algebra book and chose a problem to work on while she fell asleep. Her last thought was how easy it would be if only she had to solve for Jamie instead of X.
— Lkai
The plot thickens! Good descriptions of kids who are growing up different. If this is young adult fiction, these two characters could be such a relief to teens struggling with overbearing adults. Or if adult fiction, might open eyes of parents, teachers, youth leaders. I'm still in the story, for sure!
ReplyDeleteThis is so beautifully realistic and THOROUGH ! These two have wonderful personalities! You've brought forth LIFE~ (Macoff)
ReplyDelete