Coping With Clarity

Chapter Seven

She actually finished the goddamn essay during Bittermen’s forgotten detention. It was the only thing she had focused on in days - days that she hadn’t seen Demi. And even writing couldn’t distract her from that.

Dr DeLuise told her it was ‘Acute Myeloid Leukemia’. The A.M.L. that Demi had lived with since she was six. The A.M.L. that Selena hadn’t asked about.

Instead of going on a computer or reading a book to satisfy her need to understand A.M.L. ; to understand Demi, Selena had waited. In that time she had written a pointless essay. A pointless and generic essay about her camping trip with Taylor and her southern horse-riding boyfriend, Lucas. All because Selena wanted to let the words imprint on her. To let it sink in. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to know; she did. But she didn’t want Demi not to know, that she knew. So the websites remained unchecked and her curiosity unfilled.

Selena notices the large grandfather clock in Bittermen’s classroom, as she always does, when the seconds start to strike away lives towards the end of the day. Bittermen had sneered at her earlier when she’d produced her over-a-week-late essay. But she took it from her nonetheless. When the oak clock hits the twelve, Selena is looking at a red C+ on her paper. Bittermen spews words like ‘unoriginal’ and Taylor compliments how she’d described her interactions so well. All Selena wants to do is show Demi. Its the second time she acknowledges it.

Taylor links her arm to safely steer her out of Bittermen’s clutches and into the bustling hall. Its the only thing a high school in Texas has in common with L.A. Their lockers are next to each other. Taylor’s locker looks like the own that Selena remembers owning, back in her old school. Full of pictures - she spies a recent one from their trip to Nashville a few weeks back - notes, memos, and a mirror. Taylor’s only differed from hers with the endless lyrics defacing the metal, against school regulation; the love letters and stacks of CDs.

Selena hadn’t spent so much time on her own, and even then most of the contribution was from Taylor. Just a photograph or two, and her bike keys hooked inside. Selena’s eyes pause over Nick’s polaroid. Her fingers tug it gently, slowly pulling the tape off, so she can hold the memory in her hand.

Nick. Curly haired boyfriend Nick. There were so many descriptions and metaphors Selena could spout to his being that would eventually confuse her over and over. But the photograph was enough. He’s smiling with her, something that came and went when he saw fit. One day he’d be wrapping his arms around her and kissing her over his guitar like she was the only girl in the world. The others...

“Selena.”

The smiling boy in the picture is in front of her, not as relaxed. He jitters in his plaid shirt, which was open at his collar exposing a flash of his chest for the swooning student body. 

“Nicholas.”

When she first called him that, she apologized. The second time she did it, he kissed her.

Nick hugs his books to his side and keeps checking over his shoulder. Selena hangs onto his every word; he only hears half of what she says.

“So, do you still want to do saturday?”

Its tuesday.

“Yeah.”

This is how Selena knows they’re on a break.

~

Her C+ graded paper and purposefully fast journey to Southwestern Medical are two of the things stopping her overanalyzing what Nick had said. What Nick had suggested. What she didn’t want to hear.