33-Joe

Joe woke up for school feeling rejuvenated. The sleep had done him tons of good, and he drove to school calm and contemplative. There was even a focus there; a brewing hopefulness. It was a new day, after all.

But any confidence gained was swiftly shattered after he walked into the doors and merged into the maelstrom of swarming kids. It was a grim reminder that this place was, and always would be, utter chaos. His budding hopefulness veered toward desperation within mere seconds.

He caught Alana first, right after she shut her locker. She regarded him cautiously.

“Alana,” he said, his tone contrite. “Hey, I’m really sorry about the other night. I didn’t mean to say what I said. I was really messed up, and I have no idea how or where those words came from.”

Her eyes searched him for a moment before her expression fully calmed. “Don’t worry about it, Joe,” she said, finally.

He exhaled, relieved.

“What a night, though! How much do you remember?”

“Very little,” Joe said feebly.

She giggled. “You were out of your mind, dude.”

Joe nodded. “I know.”

“But also wicked funny.”

“Well…I have my moments, I suppose.”

“And sexy.”

“Oh…well, thanks.”

“Do you remember telling everyone that I was secretly hot?”

He shook his head.

“I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment, or what!”

“I really can’t explain it. I can’t explain anything. I’m just really sorry about what I said at the end. That was totally unlike me, to say something like that, and I feel really shitty about it. Seriously.”

“Don’t worry about it, dude. I knew you didn’t mean it.”

Joe nodded glumly.

Her smile vanished. “Are you okay?” she asked.

He nodded again.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded a third time. He couldn’t believe she was asking him—it should have been the other way around.

“You know, it was actually freakin’ funny when you decided to start throwing our clothes at Nikki Felton.”

“I’m…I’m just speechless to explain that one.”

She giggled. “Classic, dude. Classic. Hey, I gotta go. Thanks for the apology.” She smiled and walked off.

Joe took a deep breath and exhaled. Then he walked down the hall toward the sophomore lockers, moving like a ghost.

He saw Katherine soon enough, amidst the dense crowd around there. She looked so serious. He immediately felt the sting. She glanced blankly at him once, purely by accident, but that was it—after that she never came close to looking again in his direction. The sting worsened.

Nevertheless, Joe tried to approach her. There was simply no other recourse. But she veered off in another direction, in a way that looked coincidental but surely was not. He followed and tried to catch her, but the shield of friends she had hovering around her proved to be impenetrable. That surely was not a coincidence either.

The bell rang soon after and Joe ran toward class, his face downcast and bothered. The hallways quickly emptied as the students darted to their classrooms. By the time he’d made it back across the school, Joe was dreadfully late, his footfalls echoing down the lonesome halls. His teacher chastised him as he took his seat.

Those first few classes were painful enough, but Joe knew they were just mere warm-ups for the main event—Spanish. Slinking toward Señora’s room, he entered meekly and sat down at his desk, very cognizant of how she never once looked in his direction. The bright smile she always had for him was gone, it was nowhere to be seen, and Joe severely underestimated how much its departure would hurt.

For the entirety of the class, Señora conducted a review for the final exam. All throughout, Katherine’s expression was unwavering and studious, while meanwhile Joe sat there in slow-burning anguish. Of course, he was unable to pay any attention to the review—although he really needed to. It was the one class where he had really dropped the ball.

When Spanish ended, Katherine went flying out the door, as Joe knew she would. Unconsciously, he chased after her, again because he had just no other recourse. For the moment she was without her entourage—although, it was lunchtime, so she’d merge with them again soon enough and be within their protective grasp. It was a short window of opportunity that he had, and so Joe used it, calling out her name, his voice not lacking any desperation.

“Katherine!”

She looked back and saw him. They locked eyes for a moment while his face silently begged, and she remained fully expressionless.

Then her head snapped back forward, and she quickly skated off. Joe grimaced, the pain genuine and sharp. He didn’t follow anymore. He knew it would do no good. He merely looked in the direction she’d gone off in, but she was already lost amidst the crowd.

Joe stood there in limbo for some time. Then he trudged slowly to the cafeteria, barely able to speak with or even acknowledge those sitting around him. Lunch ended, and he went to his next class still in a stupor, but as that class progressed he slowly brought his head up. By the time it ended his eyes gleamed with focus.

There was one more class in the day, but Joe walked in the exact opposite direction he needed to, not toward the class but instead toward the parking lot. He took brazen strides and burst through the school doors and into the courtyard, without any precaution whatsoever for any administrators looking for deviant students. No one would stop him now, he decided, a dogged determination on his face. He wasn’t sure exactly what he would do yet, but already it felt good doing it. It felt great actually.

He started his car and pulled out of the parking lot. On the street he came to a red light and stopped. He waited patiently all throughout it, never once looking away from the light.

The only thing he thought of was the smile on her face, and how badly he wanted it back.

The light turned green and Joe drove off, operating the vehicle with crisp efficiency. Soon he cruised down the main drag, weaving in and out of cars, sometimes gunning the engine aggressively, other times moving at a slow crawl, and all the while scanning the strip malls that passed by. Finally, he saw what he was looking for, and took a quick turn.

There was a flower shop in one of the strip malls. He’d been there once before, to buy a corsage for a girl he took to the last homecoming. She went to a nearby Catholic school, and she was the girl he used to go out with—before he screwed that all up, too.

He swung the car into a parking space, turned it off, got up and slammed the door shut behind him. Halfway across the parking lot, Joe cursed and then stopped right where he was to check his wallet. He looked indecisive for a moment, but then walked briskly into the flower shop.

Joe didn’t even try to look around. He went straight to the counter, where a lady worked at the register.

“Can I help you?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am. I need some flowers…but I’m really not sure which ones are good.”

She looked mildly confused. “Well, what’s the occasion?”

“They’re for a girl.”

She offered a light smile. “You can’t go wrong with roses, honey.”

She was only trying to be nice, but Joe was not into it. He didn’t let it show though, and instead pulled out all the bills he had in his wallet, which was a massive, crumpled wad composed mostly of singles, and some fives—tips that he’d earned from work.

“How much can I get with this?”

She began organizing and counting it, but Joe spoke again before she could finish.

“What’s like a standard number? A dozen? A half dozen? Just make it look really nice. Something she’s really going to like. Please.”

She nodded and went to work.

“Wait…” he chirped, almost immediately.

“Yes?”

“Don’t use those red ones. I don’t think I can give her those.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. They look too…old fashioned. Like something my dad might use.”

“Okay. So what kind do you want then?”

“Use the white ones. Those are roses, too, right?”

“Yes, sir. Those are white roses.”

“Use those. Those look good. Those look…right.”

She smiled while preparing them.

“Wait.”

She looked at him again, her expression one of endless patience, like she was willing to do this all day.

“Not so many. I can’t give her that many. I mean, this is all ridiculous enough already.”

“How many would you like then?”

“Use like…three.”

“You’d like three white roses?”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“You really do know what you want, actually.” She grinned. “It’s a good thing.”

“Thanks.”

She went to work. Joe stood at the counter and watched what she did. While watching, his expression slowly went from grim to surreal. Finally, she handed him the arrangement. There were three white roses, as he’d asked for, with some mild garnish, and the whole deal was wrapped in plastic. Joe looked at it in astonishment.

“Is that okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, actually. It looks cool. It really does. I think it’s…perfect.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

Joe stood there frozen, still staring at what he held in his hand.

“Do you want a card to go with it?” she asked. “These ones are free, and you can clip it onto the bouquet.”

They were small, folded cards, no larger than the palm of his hand. It was a great idea, he thought. It would take everything a step further. A handwritten note would be part of it, he realized—it would be part of his plan, which he was making up as he went along.

“Yes, please. I’ll take one,” Joe said.

“It’s your choice,” she said, waiting patiently, still with that light smile.

His brow furrowed as he scanned over the cards. Some were plain, and some had words written on the front. He saw the one he wanted immediately. He marveled at how perfectly it fit.

“I’ll take that one,” Joe said, pointing. “The one that says Mi Amor.”

“She’s Spanish? Or…Latina?”

Joe nodded. “Kind of.”

She handed him the card.

“Thanks.”

Joe took both the card and the flowers and then marched out of the shop.

“Good luck,” she said.

Joe waved back at her, and then made it to his car. He got in the driver’s seat and put the flowers in shotgun. He drove back to the school tentatively. Occasionally he glanced over at the bouquet in the front seat, in awe, like it was an object from a magical realm, or someplace unreal.

By the time he pulled into the school parking lot, he felt rattled.

He wasn’t walking back into the school, not with his shiny new gift in hand—he’d rather set himself on fire than do such a thing. Thus, he knew he had to be quite strategic in its delivery.

Joe drove slowly through the lot, carefully scanning the cars he passed, until he saw what he wanted—Nikki Felton’s car. He knew from several previous conversations with Katherine that Nikki picked her up each morning, and the two generally rode home together as well. Joe did a silent fist pump upon spotting Nikki’s vehicle, but then had another setback at the realization that there were no empty spaces near her car.

He drove forward some more.

The parking lot was jam packed, more so than usual, it seemed. Finally, he found a spot—it was the same one he’d left from—and it was clear on the other side of the lot, much too far away to monitor Nikki’s car from afar. Since there was no other choice, he took the spot anyway, trying to comprehend what exactly he intended to do.

He shut off the engine but did not move. His eyes occasionally drifted over to the flowers in the seat next to him and each time they were shocking.

“This is crazy,” he whispered to himself.

He checked the time and saw there was still twenty minutes until school let out for the day. He exhaled, took another deep breath, and then reached over and removed the card that was attached to the bouquet. He stared at the red script on the front that said Mi Amor. Then he took a pen from his backpack and opened the card, as a look of concentration glazed over his face.

No words would come easily, he knew. He just had to say it. His hand moved the pen tentatively across the paper.

Juanita,

Mucho, mucho lo siento.

Pedro

He didn’t know nearly as much Spanish as he should have, but he did know that mi amor meant my love and lo siento meant I’m sorry.

He considered, and then wrote more beneath the Spanish.

Katherine,

Seriously, I’m really sorry. I really like you so much. More than I know how to say. I’m so sorry about what I did. I hope you can forgive me.

Joe

He read over the note and felt satisfied. It would have to do, because it was the best he had—of that, he was sure. He reattached the note to the bouquet and then waited in complete silence.

A couple big fat raindrops hit the windshield, and Joe saw the sky had become purple and grey. He acknowledged it blankly, knowing it didn’t matter—having come this far, he’d stand out in the rain if he damn well had to.

The minutes kept ticking away as his angst grew, and when the bell finally did ring, his heart leapt in his chest. Mere seconds later, kids began pouring out of every opening in the school, like a tank overflowing with water.

He opened the door and stood up, clutching the bouquet, which felt utterly massive in his hand. He walked past a couple cars, all the while watching the tidal wave of kids from the school creeping ever closer. He fought the urge within that screamed for him to run back to the safety of his car where he could hide himself and his insane gift. But instead he staggered ever closer to Nikki’s car, forcing each leg forward, thoughts of her smile driving him.

Soon it was too late to turn back. The front line of kids would engulf him in seconds. He held the bouquet at his side, watching them nearing.