Back to you, p.10
Back to You, page 10
“No, sorry. This isn’t right,” I had said.
Trevor ogled my body, the parts of me no one had ever seen. Of all the people I care about, he didn’t deserve to see me. Unfortunately, I came to that conclusion too late. Trevor and I barely talked or knew each other. If I was going to let anyone see me, it needed to be someone who loved me naked or not. And Trevor just wasn’t it.
He licked his lips. “It’s cool. I saw enough of what I wanted to see.”
Hearing that statement made my stomach turn sour. I fled the room as quickly as possible.
There’s a light tap on my window. I raise the blinds to find JJ standing in front of it. He must not have gotten my message. I lift up the window.
“Guess you didn’t get my text.”
“I did get it. Allons-y,” he says.
I think he misunderstood what I said or maybe I just didn’t understand the French correctly but I always thought Allons-y meant “Let’s go!”
“I don’t wanna go anymore.”
“Clove, I don’t care what you want to do right now. I’m standing outside your window at 5:30 in the morning. Let’s go.”
The assertiveness in his tone stupefies me. He’s never been this firm with me before. Perhaps I should explain why I think I shouldn’t go.
“JJ, about last night-”
“No,” he cuts me off.
No? “But I want to expla-”
“Don’t,” he replies. He scrolls through his phone and then my phone chimes. He’s sent me his run playlist. By the time I finish reading all the artists and songs, he’s vanished. Another message appears on my phone.
JJ: Get dressed. I’ll be on ur front porch.
Wow! His self-confidence and attitude is working for me. I do as he requests, getting dressed as fast as I can all while sneezing.
As soon as I step out on the porch, JJ starts jogging. Geez, can I get a warm-up walk?
I catch up to JJ and our rhythm matches the beat in the song. I admire the sky as my feet hit the pavement. If I wasn’t so busy trying to keep up with JJ, I might actually stop and dance.
The sky is already periwinkle and no longer dark. I try to recall all the different twilights he told me about, but I can’t quite remember them in the right order.
Sooner than I expect, we are back at the hill. I rest my hands on my knees but then stand up because I remember what he told me about breathing.
“Which twilight is this again?” I say trying to catch my breath.
“We’re in civil, also known as dawn.” He takes a sports bottle and squirts water into his mouth. Then he hands it to me. I take in as much water as I can while still saving him plenty. JJ helps pull me up the hill.
Once we reach the top, I collapse against the tree. I give my breath a few minutes to steady and then I ask JJ, “Why do you think God keeps waking me up at this time?”
JJ stares out at the horizon. “What makes you think it’s God?”
Ever since we were younger, he’d often turn questions around to make me think about things for myself. I had asked myself this question many times and I wasn’t really sure of the answer.
“By now,” JJ says. “It could be that your body is just used to waking up at this time. Therefore, you continue doing it out of habit.”
I don’t truly think that’s what he believes.
As the sun rises, the sky turns into this beautiful gold hue. Gold. Gold birthday. I started waking up like this the day before my Golden Birthday, the day of my birthday and the day after. I’ve been waking up before the break of dawn ever since.
“This time of day,” JJ says quietly. “Is known as the golden hour. It happens at sunset too. It’s the moment when the sun appears to give gold light. It’s a photographer’s best time to take a photo because everything is just right; the lighting, the atmosphere, and the quietness. They all provoke solitude and meditation. We’ve watched this together a few times now. I think you know why you’re waking up at this time.”
Once again, he’s right. If I quit avoiding the obvious, I do know. My mom and dad used to get up at five faithfully to read and pray together. I think I’m supposed to be doing the same.
“No one else my age gets up at this time to read their Bible and pray,” I say.
“How do you know? I’m up.”
That’s true too. He had been getting up just as early even before I started waking up at five. But I was convinced it was just so he could run and now so he could run with me.
“JJ, the playlist you sent me was really good but...I think I’m done with God. I don’t understand Him or Her.”
“Okay,” he says. We watch the sun until it’s fully ascended into the sky. We stay out here a little bit longer than we have in the past and let the sun warm our faces but not too much. He’ll get more freckles and I’ll get sunburn, specifically on my left cheek where my white vitiligo patch shows.
We lay on our backs in the cool grass and bask in the light. The sun gives so much warmth that it feels like a kiss.
I turn my head towards him. “Why’d you make me come out here with you this morning even when I told you I didn’t want to?”
JJ puts his hands behind his head and I am so tempted to lay my head on his chest but instead I focus on those cookie crumb freckles on his nose and cheeks.
“I didn’t make you. I can’t make you do anything. You did that,” JJ says.
“But you were bossy. You told me to get dressed and that’d you be on my porch. I didn’t want to just leave you out there.”
JJ sits up and wraps his arms around his knees. “I’m not giving up on you, Clove. Even if you want to give up on yourself. I’m going to push and pull you out of the dark and into the sunlight.”
All the things he’s saying to me and the way he’s saying them, he’s never done before. He begins to get up and extends his hand so that he can help me. We run all the way back to my neighborhood. When I want to stop and take breaks, JJ encourages me.
Keep going. Come on. You can do this. Breathe. You’re doing wonderful.
These were things JJ kept saying over and over to me until I started saying them to myself. He wouldn’t let me stop running until we finally turned onto my street. I breathed hard, with my hands on top of my head.
“See, you did good even though you didn’t want to. Up top.” JJ puts his hand up for me to slap him a high-five. My high-five is weak compared to the five he gives.
“Once you start doing this consistently, it’ll get better.”
I don’t know if I believe him or if I want to be consistent with this. Using my spare key, I unlock the front door. “Wanna come in? I can make us something to eat.”
“Um, does it involve you cooking?”
I push the door open. “No, it involves cereal, milk, and a spoon.”
He thinks for a moment. “You know, I actually have to do some weight lifting down at Xavier’s. Wanna weight lift?”
What a silly question. I don’t want to lift weights. I want breakfast, water, and sleep. In that order.
“I’ll help you and then we’ll get Xavier to take us back to my house,” JJ says. “We can have breakfast there.”
That does sound like a better idea. My house is empty. Dad’s still out of town and Gram went back home after she stopped by to check on me last night. She wasn’t even here when I got in. Her social life is better than mine. That kinda sucks.
I take JJ up on his offer and we walk side by side to Xavier’s house.
“Are you sure he’s up?”
“Yes, he gets up early as well.” He looks at me with an expression that says I’m supposed to know what that means. And in a way I do but it’s hard to believe both of them get up early to pray or read the Bible.
For the first three minutes or so I watch Xavier and JJ take turns bench pressing. Then it’s my turn. I definitely don’t want to bench press anything. Xavier starts to take off the heavy weights for me.
“No,” I say. “What makes you think I can’t lift what y'all lift? I can handle the weight.”
Xavier and JJ exchange glances and then Xavier slides the weights back on.
I sit on the bench and lay back. He stands above my head to help me lift. “Ready when you are, Princess.”
“Don’t call me Princess, Xave.”
“Fine then. Lift, Clove.”
I push and push and push. Nothing happens. Isn’t he supposed to help me or something?
“You’re not helping. You helped JJ.”
“The heavy lifting was all him. I only made sure that he didn’t drop it in case it got to be too much. How about we start with smaller weights, eh?” Xavier suggests.
“No!” I don’t want the smaller weights. Frustrated, I sit up.
JJ squats down in front of me. “Clove, you have to start small. Small steps equal big change.”
Why is he all philosophical today? Fine. I decide to take the smaller weights and this time JJ helps me lift. We do about three rounds of bench pressing, then push-ups, and lastly pull-ups. I don’t even try to do what the guys do. For the pull-ups, I just hang on the bar.
“Hang in there,” Xavier jokes.
"Lame!” I say and then the three of us start laughing.
After we finish, I decide to walk back home so I can shower. JJ walks back with me and then Xavier is going to take him home.
“No breakfast? I had a green protein smoothie all planned out for you,” JJ grins.
Yuck. “Sounds delicious,” I say flatly. “But I think I better shower first. Maybe we can meet up later and hang out?”
Truthfully, I didn’t want this time with him to end. His hair is wet around the edges and his cheeks are flush from us working out. I’m very tempted to touch his face regardless of how sticky it might be. He makes my heart race and there are butterflies flying everywhere in my stomach. Lately, every time we hang out together, he gives me these feelings. This is how I should’ve felt last night. Trevor gave me no butterflies.
I smile at JJ and he smiles back.
“Spending the entire day with you would be awesome,” he says. “We haven’t done that in a long time.”
“But,” I prod. I can tell that there’s a rebuttal coming. He must be busy, have a date with Tisha or something.
“But,” he echoes. “I have a project to finish and my mom wants me to help clean-up. We have company coming over for the weekend. If I’m not mistaken, I think you’re going to be hanging out with Mom later tonight.”
My eyes widen. This was the first time I was hearing about it. Where are we going? What are we doing? Why am I just now finding out? All these questions must have been written on my face. JJ lightly punches me on the shoulder. “You have questions and I don’t have all the answers. My mom will call you later, okay?”
“Okay.”
JJ begins to back away. He watches me and I watch him. Him walking away from me is like a magnetic force between us—at least it feels that way for me. The farther he gets, the stronger the pull. He must have magnets in his soul.
Karaoke
When JJ mentioned I was going out with his mom, I wasn’t expecting to be standing on stage in front of a smoke-filled room, with a bar, and a touch screen jukebox that plays karaoke. I don’t even know how I mustered the courage to get up here.
Mrs. Jourdan, a guy name Jeremy, another one named Crane, and a woman named Mya sit at a table top bar in front, smiling and cheering me on. When Mrs. Jourdan told me that her friends were in town, I didn’t realize she meant Mama’s friends too. I know them, and they’ve known me since I was little. They’d all been at the funeral, but I was too out of it to remember.
I listened while they exchanged stories about my mom. I think that’s what gave me the courage to get up here because they talked about how she was never afraid of anything. For a split second I thought I could be courageous too, but now that I’m up here, I’m not so sure.
The room is dim and all I can see is the glow of orange wristbands worn by the 21 and up crowd. I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants. I chose a song by accident and couldn’t figure how to change it or stop the countdown. When Mrs. Jourdan sang, she got a standing ovation. I didn’t know she had such a beautiful voice. Mya went next. Her voice wasn’t great but people still clapped. It takes guts to sing in front of a crowd of people but I seriously think my guts might spill all over the floor.
I wait for the music to begin and inhale slow, then exhale. I try to give myself an internal pep talk. I’m brave. I can do this. If I can get my nose pierced, then this is a piece of cake.
The song is upbeat but old school. I try to dance to help calm my nerves. The words turn yellow which I think means I’m supposed to sing. My voice comes out all wrong but Mrs. Jourdan and her friends keep cheering. One of them holds up a lit flame from a lighter. The other shines his phone light into the air. Their antics make me laugh and I start falling behind on the lyrics.
Mrs. Jourdan cups her hands around her mouth.“Come on Clove. You got this, Dearest!”
I sound awful, like a turkey gobbling and warbling. Oh goodness this is terrible.
“That’s alright!” Crane tells me. He stands up to clap. Then all of them stand and start dancing. I sing the chorus with more confidence because that’s about the only part I know. It’s also the part of the song I can relate to; wanting to dance with someone who loves me or maybe even just likes me.
There’s this rush of energy inside of me and I start dancing, getting more into the song.
When the music stops, everyone claps, including the people at the bar. I know I sounded pretty bad, but I appreciate the enthusiasm.
Mrs. Jourdan hugs me. “You did so good!” I know she doesn’t really mean it.
“Cheers to courage!” Mya puts her drink in the air. We clink glasses and then Jeremy asks me how I feel.
I’m out of breath like I’ve just gone for another run. “Pretty good,” I say. “It was scary but exciting at the same time.”
Jeremy nudges Mrs. Jourdan’s arm. “Adele, you should’ve brought Jonah,” he tells her. “This would’ve been perfect for getting him to combat his shyness.”
That’s silly. JJ can’t sing. If he were here, I definitely would not have gotten up and sang that song the way I did or at all for that matter.
“Clove, have you ever heard Jonah sing?” Mrs. Jourdan asks.
I shake my head no and, in my mind, I can’t even imagine him singing.
“Hmmmm, well I’ll have to fix that then. He’s got a beautiful voice and I’m not just saying that because I’m his mom.”
That’s just preposterous. Next, I suppose she’ll tell me he can dance too. I’ve never seen him do either one of these things.
“He does have a good voice,” Crane affirms. “Is he still thinking of going to college at Belmont in Nashville?”
Mrs. Jourdan talks to them while I try to envision JJ singing. He can sing? What? I don’t believe it. Talk about multifaceted. I never expected to hear that my nerd...I mean my best friend, could actually sing. He’s like a Boy Wonder, both smart and talented.
Liked Or Loved
It’s after 10 p.m. before Mrs. Jourdan and I get back on the road. I listened to her friends talk about high school and growing up in Smalltown. Mrs. Jourdan was not born and raised here, but came from Louisiana while in high school. Following graduation, she studied in France which is where she met Mr. Jourdan and started their family. I knew all of this from JJ, but I listened anyway.
“So,” Mrs. Jourdan says and then yawns. “Did you have fun?”
“Yes ma’am. Thank you.”
“Oh don’t thank me, Dearest. It was my pleasure. However, I wasn’t just talking about Karaoke. Did you have fun at the party last night?”
My eyes bulge. I swear JJ tells his parents everything, but not in a snitch type of way. He’s just very open with them. I don’t know if I should answer. I’m almost positive he didn’t tell her everything.
We ride without talking for a moment.
“You know, Clove,” Mrs. Jourdan begins again. “I know you have your Gram, but if you need me or if you ever want to talk, I want you to call me, ok?”
“Yes ma’am.” A few questions come to mind, but I go with the first one that sticks out most.
“Was there ever a time you thought about dating one of your friends? Like, when y'all were going to school together?”
She ponders my question. “Mmmmm, not really. We’ve all pretty much been just friends. Mya and Jeremy dated for a little bit and realized that it just wasn’t right for them. Thankfully, they hadn’t gotten in too deep and it didn’t ruin the friendship.”
I’m grateful that she doesn’t ask me why I had asked the question. I change the subject.
“My dad doesn’t want to let me go to the dance and I don’t understand why. He went to dances when he was my age. He got to go to movies with girls and date and stuff. Why won’t he let me do these things?”
Mrs. Jourdan stops at a red light. “Your father is just doing what dads sometimes do. You’re young and pretty and he wants to protect you from everything, but you’re both learning that’s not possible. No one can protect everyone from everything. I can tell you do’s and don’ts but either you’ll heed them or experience them.”
I get that. Jessa had warned me not to hang out with Trevor. I chose experience as a lesson and it sucked. Apparently, it sucked way too hard because I feel like I have the mark of the beast on my neck. Mrs. Jourdan said nothing about the scarf I chose to wear tonight even though it's warm.
“How will I know if I’ve met the right person?” I ask.
She smiles slightly. “What right person are you looking for? You want someone to love you or like you? Hook up with or be friends with?”
I’m not sure that I’m looking for either of those things. But I understand that my usage of the word “right” wasn’t right.
I breathe in deeply. Mrs. Jourdan talks without my answers.
“The right person will push you to be your best self and bring out all the good in you that you didn’t even know you had. Someone that truly loves you, knows your value and your worth. They respect you and your body. Does that make sense?”
