Audacious, p.12
Audacious, page 12
Derails me.
The pink dress hangs
In a dry-cleaning bag
In my closet
I lay it on the bed
Can I have it?
Kayli says behind me.
I want to wear it to Spring Fling
I narrow my eyes.
You? I say
Don’t you prefer something
More revealing?
Kayli blushes prettily.
A boy asked me to go, but he
Wants me to wear something…
I groan. Modest? I say
He’s not…
A Mormon, Kayli says
And we both laugh until
Dad calls up the stairs
Telling us to turn off the gas.
WITHOUT HIM
But later
My laughter turns
To tears
I cry and cry
Samir’s last words to me
You don’t understand
Cut, deep an untruth
An accusation
I cannot bear
I understand everything
What it’s like
How empty
How pointless
Heartless
And perplexing
To live
Without
Him.
TINY
The photograph
Lovingly framed
Then wrapped in blue tissue
And tied with white satin
I don’t look at it much anymore, Mom says
Maybe I should.
She peels back the ribbon
The paper falls away
It is a tiny photo, black and white
Two impossibly small feet
He weighed less than a pound, she says
Like a sprite, he could have curled up in my hand
Darling Gabriel,
Whose only task on earth
Was to break my mother’s heart.
It took him his whole life.
Can you make a painting?
Her uncertainty is unbearable
Because I would move planets
And eat snakes for her, for Gabriel.
CHALLENGE
Samir’s father’s words
Rattle around my head
Love is a blessing and a gift
Not for us to question.
But
Of love
I have so many questions
It would take to the end of the universe
To ask them all.
LEARNER’S LICENSE
I need a canvas
A big one
And Dad has taken the car.
My fingers ache to call Samir
I know he loves the art-supply place
But somehow, it’s David I dial.
He arrives, driving, his brother beside him
I got my learner’s license, he says with glee.
His brother is so painfully gorgeous
That my words get tangled as I say hello
I sit in the back, contemplating
How David and his brother look very alike.
I’m glad you called, David says
I’m so sorry about all the…that was NOT cool.
Beside him, his brother whistles.
I’m grounded beyond Pluto
But this is “homework” so we can hang out.
Michael will wait in the car, right?
Michael grunts and pulls out an iPhone
I stroll with David, looking at paint
And marveling at my capriciousness.
I heard you broke up with Sam, David says
God, I say, is someone blogging my life?
Genie told me, he says, she’s moving in for the kill.
It’s so funny I nearly laugh
That at the same time I want to murder Genie
I want to kiss David.
NOT FOR US TO QUESTION
Quaint, the idea that love is
Unquestionable undefeatable
Endless fathomless
Strong as time and
Tenacious as space but
If love is never to be tested
Or challenged then it is worth
Nothing.
AUDACIOUS ANGEL
Because you believed
In yourself
Your tiny self
Because you knew
There is no greater accomplishment
Than making someone love you
You only needed three minutes
Your footprints
Like your memory
Larger than life
Larger than you
Or me.
FREEDOM WALL
Time passes,
Like music floating though an open window
And spring arrives.
Mental clarity returns to me piece by piece
And I think I’ve said all I can say
To my poor shrink.
I’m going back to school after the break
I stop by to pick up some things
David skips, and meets me by the wall.
We have been “hanging out”
Since he has returned from Pluto
And once, he kissed me.
He’s not my boyfriend
I think even he senses Samir
Lingering in the corners of my heart.
I’ve even apologized
He says he doesn’t mind
But by my wall, he takes my hand
Territorially
I’m glad they left this up
He says of the Freedom Wall
All the other art
David’s, Samir’s and of course
Sarah’s have been taken down.
But the Freedom Wall remains
This is the first time I have seen it
In real life.
I can barely take it in
I’m overwhelmed by the honesty
And simplicity of the sentiments
I decide, someone has written
And He made us ALL perfect, writes another
And then I see it.
Small and tucked in a corner
A scrawl of Arabic
That I recognize
I googled it once, before Christmas
Thinking I might write it on a card
I practiced it about a hundred times
But gave up and went with English.
I know it says: I love you
Beside me, David sighs
Impatient, and lets go of my hand
’Sup, Sam? he says
Samir doesn’t answer
He gazes in his unraveling way
And David kisses my ear and leaves.
Are you two…?
Just friends, I say, not that you should care.
My heart is pounding.
How is Jibreel? I say to change the subject
He weighs six pounds
Like he was born yesterday
But beautiful, so beautiful
Like his uncle, I think
And Samir says, I miss you.
TRUTH
I could miss him too
But my ear remembers David’s kiss
David is in Students for Secular Humanism
And Samir in the Islamic Students’ Alliance.
I could have David as a “boyfriend”
Tolerate his low-slung jeans
And his hockey friends thinking they know me
Because they’ve seen a picture of my snatch.
I could make love with Samir
Right now, baptize him inside me
Spirit him back to the mudroom door
And take him on the narrow stairs.
I could walk away
From both of them
From another school, another crisis
I could walk away from myself.
Be Ella again, finally
Measured and careful
Popular and successful
Ella would choose
But Raphaelle
Wants what she wants
She can’t think of a reason not
To have her baklava.
And eat it too.
THE QUESTION
So just because I can
I’m going to have two boyfriends
One for Ella: the popular rich boy
Hockey jock with an artistic streak
One for Raphaelle: the moody, pious Muslim
Handsome and hot-blooded with a body to match
One for movies and parties
One for furtive tumbles and soul-searching
One for my head
And one for my heart
I will try to keep them from each other
I don’t want anyone to get hurt
Although both of them hurt me
I’m done with vengeance
I know it’s capricious, maybe selfish
But in the end that could be
the
whole
truth
about
me.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
It started with Sonya Sones, who introduced me to the idea of a verse novel for teens and got me addicted to the form. Ellen Hopkins was and continues to be an inspiration and cheerleader for novels in verse and verse novelists.
Carrie Gleason read this manuscript first and sent me a soul-nourishing email that I read over a bowl of Vietnamese noodles. Kris Rothstein and Carolyn Swayze listened to my big wish for this book, then made it come true. Sarah Harvey and Andrew Wooldridge weren’t at all fazed by the four-letter word at the heart of this story.
My sister, Monica Prendergast, a poet and scholar, gave me a confidence-building reality check when it all started to seem a little scary. My other sisters, Tess and Kathy, just believe in me, no questions asked. Mum’s perplexity about my love of young-adult literature makes me laugh. Dad, wherever you are, I know you noticed, eventually.
My husband, Len, and daughter, Lucy, tolerate my moods, poor housekeeping and general nonsense.
To all of you, thanks.
GABRIELLE PRENDERGAST is a UK-born Canadian/Australian who lives in Vancouver, BC, with her husband and daughter. She holds an MFA in Creative Writing from the University of British Columbia. A part-time teacher and mentor, Gabrielle blogs and rants at Angelhorn.com and VerseNovels.com.
Gabrielle Prendergast, Audacious
