Redwood and Ponytail

Alex	Alyx	Alexx
We are the kids in the halls . . .
	We are the kids you don’t see . . .
		We are the kids watching . . .
We are everyone.
	We are everywhere.
		We are everything.
And what do we see?
	And what do we see?
		And what do we see?
A love story?
	A tragedy?
		A comedy?
Real life?
	Will we cry?
		Will we laugh?
I guess we’ll find out.
	I guess we’ll find out.
		I guess we’ll find out.
Our quest for normal . . .
	Our search for truth . . .
		Our all-knowing glances . . .
always watching her.
	always watching him.
		always watching you.

---

TAM	Kate
I dig the heel of my palm	I stare out the window
calmly pressing	the sun huge
into my chest	bright
harder and harder	burning
because I know it’s there	taking up the whole sky
it has to be	and it’s like
somewhere	I can see inside
beating	my chest
my heart
my heart
my heart
So why does it feel	Bursting
missing	too full
skipping	it hurts
every	so much
beat	all the feelings
nothing alive	pressed into my ribs
inside me?	like my eyes to the window.
Could it be	Could it be
that my palm digs calmly	that all the feelings
because you can’t panic	are exploding
when you have no	at once, finally
beats?	free?
my heart
my heart
my heart
Where are you?	Why are you like this?
Where could you be?	Why do this to me?
Why would you leave me here	Why aren’t you
so quiet	normal?
so empty?	Why can’t you leave me be?

TAM

What does it mean

to be a friend?

I ask this question

to my ceiling

quietly,

a whisper

with no answer.

Kate

In my pocket,

a book.

Not a regular book;

a tiny book that tells my future.

I take it,

open it.

Inside, lined up in two rows,

faceless, armless

matches. Fates.

They know the way.

TAM

I miss her.

Every part of me.

Every molecule.

But this is what she wants.

So this is my gift to her.

Leaving her alone.

Going away.

My present is

zero presence.

Exactly what she wants.

Kate

The match explodes,

a burst of light

and sulfur.

I hold it to the poster

pinned to my wall.

The poster that started it all.

I understand now

why people say

flames lick

because I see the orange tongue

slide up the side,

slurping the paper,

eating its glowing snack.

Black

smoke also licks,

leaving a mark on the ceiling

while I watch everything

burn.

Katherine?

Mom barges in.

KATHERINE?

The smoke alarm

bright in my ears:

Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Beep-beep!

	Katherine!
	What are you—?
	Get the—!
	Oh my G—!

Mom tries to push me

out out out of the room

but I don’t budge.

She runs past me,

shouts,

Where’s the fire extinguisher?!

And in my chest

everything lurches,

comes alive

pounds

beats

a new pulse

matching the alarm.

The poster burns.

I hold out my phone.

I hit record.

Flames lick, devour,

reach golden arms to the ceiling.

And my eyes

close.

I feel the heat.

I breathe the ash.

As a new chapter

in the story of my future

begins

right

now.

---

Kate

Just right.

I tell myself this

as I straighten my bow,

smooth my skirt,

tie my shoes.

You’re just right.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Bow tight.

Smile bright.

Just right.

TAM

Like a breeze

or a sneeze

you blink

and it’s over.

How does that happen?

I mean, really?

Summer is here

and then it’s gone.

Snatched away

and before you know it

it’s registration day,

new schedules,

new classes,

and I don’t hate the idea

of school back in session,

but really

does anyone

love it?

Kate

I love it!

At least I think I do.

I always have loved it,

so surely this year will be the same.

School itself is neither here nor there

but all the kids and clubs and stuff?

That’s the fun part.

Right?

It always has been.

So I’m sure it will be that way

this year, too.

Almost ready?

Born ready, Mom.

Tell that to my watch.

Mom’s smile

is a little bit sideways when we get to the car,

a troublemaker grin I recognize

from someone else’s face,

a grin I haven’t seen in a long time.

For your birthday.

She hands me an envelope,

and what?

My birthday is so far away!

I tilt my head, like a confused puppy.

Mom laughs.

	Look inside.
	You’ll understand.

I open the envelope

and oh my gosh,

so many tickets . . .

Mom!

She laughs again.

MisDirection is playing?!

ON MY BIRTHDAY?!

	I know, honey.
	I bought enough tickets for
	the whole squad.
	How could I not?

The whole squad invited

to a concert

on my birthday?

It’ll be amazing . . .

Mom smiles, taps her temple.

Always thinking ahead.

Right.

I should be cheer captain by then

and if I’m not,

these will seal the deal.

Kate

I make my hand into a microphone,

I sing,

Oh, baby,

Oh, baby,

Mom puts the car in reverse,

turns to look behind her,

backs out of the driveway,

eyes focused,

smile tight now,

tight as my bow.

And this smile,

the familiar one,

not the lopsided one,

the all-knowing,

all-seeing

Mom-smirk . . .

it makes my stomach flip

just a tiny smidge.

I keep looking at Mom,

I croon into my hand

softer this time:

Oh, baby,

Don’t,

Don’t,

Don’t break my heart in two.

Because yeah,

I’m happy about the tickets

but also?

Does everything,

even my birthday

have to be a chess move?

TAM

Are you stoked for school?

Mom. Please don’t say stoked.

	Don’t be shook, baby.
	I’m sure it will be very lit.

Mom. No. Never say those words.

We’re both laughing now

as the car wheezes up to

school

and the radio kicks in

with ridiculous bass

and that stupid song

Oh, Baby

starts up

and my ears,

they bleed.

Ahhh! No!! It’s too much!

Between you and this,

just . . .

turn it off!

Turn you off!

Mom cackles her witch laugh,

pulls to the curb at school:

	Oh, baby,
	oh, baby,
	how I love yoooooou.
	Please, baby, please,
	don’t break my heart in
	twoooooo.

STOPPPPPPPP!

I jump out,

slam the car door,

laughing even though it

encourages her.

See you later!

I can still hear Mom singing

as she drives off.

Kate

Becca’s scream is so loud,

so long,

so piercing,

I’m afraid for a minute

she’s going to turn herself

inside out.

	MisDirection?!
	ALL of us?!
	LOVE YOUR MOM!!!!

Seriously, I think she might cry.

And for some reason

her enthusiasm,

her made-for-TV freak-out,

it just,

I don’t know,

oh, baby,

oh, baby,

how I wishhhhhhhh

I’d kept the secret

a little bit longer.

Is that weird?

I don’t know.

TAM

Juggernaut-less gym

today.

No whistles.

No squeaks.

No leaping and landing,

digging and diving.

Instead,

pencils and schedules,

sighs and lines.

Registration day.

Seventh grade.

I look up at the caged bulbs,

big round bright,

they heave

fluorescent sighs

coughing out light on

one table at a time.

Find my line

A through F

whisper an apology