Broken Glass, Broken Hearts part 73

Before, the first thing I would have heard after asking my parents if a boy could come stay overnight would be a slightly over-dramatized, "No," from my father. Now, though, the first thing I heard was, "Oh, yes, of course!" My mom said it, not my dad, but the expression on my dad's face made it fairly obvious that he, too, was excited at the prospect of a guest coming over. Anything to distract them was good, even a boy staying overnight to visit their daughter. "Oh, that would be very nice! When we met him, he seemed like a very nice boy!" Her voice was too energetic, fake. "Ok," I said, "Thanks." And with that, I waved and went out the front door, where Selena was waiting in her brother's Jeep to take me bathing suit shopping.

I wasn't sure how I was going to tell my sister about my decision. I didn't know if I should just casually mention it or if I should burst out of a cake holding a sign that read, "WE'RE GOING HOME!" Eventually, I decided the best path to take would probably just be to tell her, no casual setup, no party balloons. So I walked over to her room, knocked on the door, and pushed it in when she hollered permission for me to do so. "You intruded?" she said, sitting in front of her giant speakers and adjusting the volume in a way that was very irritating for onlookers ears. "Yup," I said, "I've got some news." She turned, facing me, and said, "Good news, or bad news?"

"I'm thinking you'll think it's good news."

"Goody. Spill."

"We're moving."

"News Flash of the century. Thanks for the memo."

"Back." Her face froze, her eyes slowly widening, and then the largest smile I had seen on her since she was a child broke out on her face. She screamed giddily and crossed the room quickly, throwing her arms around my neck in a hug and jumping up so that she was hanging from me. I laughed, slumping over slightly from her weight, and let her get back on the ground before saying, "So you're cool with this decision, I take it." She looked around the room and said, "Oh, gosh, I sure will miss this place." She turned back and grinned at me mischievously. I laughed and noogied her, and she squealed and tried to wiggle out of my grasp. It was just like when we were children.

Selena was very enthusiastic about her approval of Tyler visiting me. A little too enthusiastic for comfort, actually. I tried, unsuccessfully, to change the subject during the entire shopping trip, but she kept finding her way back to Tyler and I. "What do you think he wants to tell you?" she asked, her voice thick with a gossiper's deadly curiosity. I shrugged, "I don't know, he's probably just getting back to me on that shotgun wedding we'd been planning on. I was fine with just getting it done at the local place, but he's a real romantic, you know, so he'll probably want to surprise me with tickets to Vegas." Selena grinned, shaking her head at my sarcasm, but she persisted, "I don't think the whole marriage thing will happen any time soon, but maybe he'll ask you out... what do you think?"

"About dating relating to marriage? Oh, yea, it's like the gateway drug to married life."

"You are so ridiculous."

"And this is coming from you."

"I know. You should probably be worried."

"Oh, dear, I do believe you're right."

"Get your therapist now, before all the good ones are taken." I chuckled and shook my head, and Selena grinned before leading me into another store. At least I had managed to stop the interrogation... for the time being.

© 2010

Moody Music

Duckies-

I have discovered- or, rather, revisited two artists that are now making me make this face:

:D

These artists are Anya Marina and Lykke Li. I found them on the New Moon soundtrack,

(thank you, New Moon soundtrack!) performing the songs Satellite Heart (Anya Marina) and

Possibility (Lykke Li.) My father was listening to Pandora last night, under an Eisley and Alanis

Morisette channel, so I recommended that he make one of these artist, who I thought had styles

similar to the other two artists. Through that, I found a new Lykke Li song and also a song by

another artist I hadn't heard of that I now adore. All this music seems to fit the mood perfectly

of my book Broken Glass, Broken Hearts, which is good, because I've been trying to find a

musical mood for the book- music that I can listen to that will inspire me while I'm writing. So,

here's the playlist I will be listening to as I write:

1. Hanging High by Lykke Li
2. Tonight by Lykke Li
3. Until We Bleed by Kleerup ft. Lykke Li
4. Let it Fall by Lykke Li
5. Little Bit by Lykke Li
6. Knocked Up by Kings of Leon (covered by Lykke Li)
7. Breaking It Up by Lykke Li
8. Window Blues by Lykke Li
9. Move You by Anya Marina
10. Whatever You Like by T.I. (covered by Anya Marina)
11. Satellite Heart by Anya Marina
12. High On The Ceiling by Anya Marina
13. Miss Halfway by Anya Marina
14. Move You (SSSPII) by Anya Marina
15. All The Same To Me by Anya Marina
16. My Love by The Bird and The Bee
17. Again & Again by The Bird and The Bee
18. Preparedness by The Bird and The Bee
19. Diamond Dave by The Bird and The Bee
20. Birthday by The Bird and The Bee
21. What's In The Middle by The Bird and The Bee
22. White Houses by Vanessa Carlton

DUDE. Longest playlist ever.

Keep On Rockin',

Sienna

(professional wrestler in all 60 states)

© 2010

Broken Glass, Broken Hearts part 72

Milly's music was blasting from her room, and I couldn't focus on my studying, so I stood up, eventually, exasperated, and walked over to her room. I opened her door to ask that she turn the music down, but as I did, I saw her sprawled out on the bed, facing away from me, with a wide smile on her face. She had a phone pressed up to her ear, and I heard her, over the music, say a phrase that included the pronoun "Jake." As she lay there, laughing, radiant, somehow able to hear the person on the other end of the phone even with her music blasting, I realized there was really no decision to make. I loved my mom, I really did, and I cared about her happiness a lot. But Milly was smiling right now, right there. And Milly's smile was more bright than any lights of New York could ever be. I wasn't about to let it slip.

My mom had a slight grin on her mouth. I don't what I had expected to receive from her, but it wasn't that. She nodded calmly as I explained my decision to her, and the playful half-grin danced on and off her mouth in a way that made her look young, like the hippie with long dark hair and bright blue eyes who had run away with my father. Her bright eyes were a precise replica of Milly's smiling ones, though the skin around them was more aged. I discovered, as I looked at her smiling eyes, how my father must have felt when he saw them. Why he would leave behind his whole life to travel the country in a van with this woman. Those smiling eyes, just like my sister's, were something that could make the rest of the world seem insignificant. I could imagine, as my dad had looked into them, that he must have felt how I felt when I looked in Angela's eyes. And as she replied, calmly, to me, that she was perfectly fine with my decision, and was proud of me for making the decision unselfishly, I knew that I had to appreciate her smiling eyes more. Milly's were never something I took for advantage. And I should treat my mother's the same way.

And maybe I should also think more about the importance of smiling eyes. Because there was one person in the world whose eyes had even more of an effect on me than the eyes of the two women that were connected to me by blood. And now that I knew her secret, her pain, I knew I would never take her smiling eyes- even just her grinning eyes, her smirking eyes- for granted again.

Tyler called me on Tuesday afternoon. His voice was bright, excited, and so warm. I wanted to climb into the phone and fold the warm blanket of his voice around myself, to fall asleep to the rhythm of his vowels. He told me that he had something important he had to tell me, but that he wanted to say it in person. I invited him to come out that weekend, to stay overnight from Saturday to Sunday. He offered to stay at his grandmother's house, but I told him that I had a guest room, and that he could sleep there. When we hung up, I felt a surge of adrenaline running through my body that I could fight, so I changed my clothes and went outside, jogging in the fog, down my street. I paused after a while, sitting on a tree trunk as I re-tied my sneakers, and I smiled at the idea of Tyler visiting. I wouldn't mind hearing that voice of his in person. Or seeing those indescribable blue eyes... I wouldn't mind at all.

© 2010

Broken Glass, Broken Hearts part 71

My mom was packing when I got home. My stress level, which had already been off the charts, rocketed upward. "Hi, mom," I muttered miserably as I walked in the front door, my backpack weighing me down as I kept my eyes on the hallway in front of me, focusing on not noticing the half-packed living room. "Hello, darling! How was school?" I shrugged, "Educational." She grinned and turned back to her boxes, and I slipped past her, into my fully-unpacked room- yet another thing I had to stress about.

My gym teacher is strict. And by strict, I mean if you are not playing like you are in the Olympics 100% of the time, including when we're playing something like dodgeball or crab ball, he will yell in your face and humiliate you in front of the whole class. And that's just his first-warning punishment. He would send people to the office so much, the principal eventually had to say that no PE students were allowed to be sent down to the office except after three serious offenses. So it's a given that he does not accept the lousy excuse of "I have to go to the bathroom right now or I will pee my pants" as a worthy excuse for stepping out of the PE area. And so it happened that I was waddling around the gym pregnant-woman style, trying desperately not to think of waterfalls. I tried to do it subtly, not draw attention to myself, but most people noticed anyway, and automatically knew what I was about. They sent me looks of pity and tried to help me play as little as I possibly could while still looking like an Olympic champion in battle. When PE ended and I was finally able to race to the bathroom like the track star coach wants me to be, the words running through my head- other than finally I can pee! were, "I can not wait until summer."

I sat at my computer and stared at the half-written essay in front of me, trying to grasp the word that was on the tip of my tongue, that was the perfect conclusion to the ending sentence of my second body paragraph. I bit my lip and looked at my backpack on the floor next to me. It was open, halfway unzipped, and my desk lamp was casting a shadow on the many binders nestles inside. I turned in my chair and stared at my room for a moment. My bed was made, my clothes littered on top of it and all over the floor, and three pairs of shoes lay near my half-open closet door. Two books sat on my bedside table, another one, folded open at the seam, on the floor by my bed, next to my Muse t-shirt and dark jeans. I sighed and folded over in the chair, tucking my head between my knees. Picking up and leaving right after settling in, again, was going to be hard enough- why did I have to have all this added pressure?

There was a storm Monday night. I sat in my room and listened to the rain pattering on the roof, remembering the days when I could look over to the window and watch the rain fall. Tonight I could sleep in my room, but on especially warm nights, the room would get too stuffy, and I'd have to go down the attic stairs to sleep in the guest room. The Saltwater Room by Owl City played out of my speakers, and I whistled along with it as I stood up and started rearranging my drawers, pulling out the clothes and refolding it, taking out the occasional old garment that I had forgotten about to give to Salvation Army. I closed my drawers and looked up at the poster above them- a picture of the 80's band Devo. Their outfits were bizarre, totally sterotypical 80's. My sister had never really liked their music, but she said she liked their "philosophy". I remembered her telling me once about how "devo" was short for "de-evolution". She said that the band members believed that as technology advanced, humans became more lazy, more stupid, and basically de-evolved. I wasn't really sure what I thought about their "philosophy", but they did seem to fir the mood of our room...so I never asked her to take it down. Now, as I stood and stared at it, I bit my lip and reached up, tearing it down. The wood underneath the spot where it had been was faded, lighter than the wall around it. The poster was nice enough. But I thought that the spot where it was might be a good spot for something else.

© 2010

Broken Glass, Broken Hearts part 70

Being a week and a half away from summer wasn't exactly easy for anyone to stand, but I'm pretty sure it was the most difficult for the teachers. I even watched my English teacher stare at the clock for over a half an hour while we sat and read. At one point during the thirty minutes, she noticed my stare and looked down, pretending to be occupied with something, but after about thirty seconds she looked back at the clock again. Tapping pencils and impatient sighs followed me through every hour of the day as I tried to both focus on what was going on in class and debate what decision I should make concerning where we move. By the end of the week, I felt like throwing back my head and screaming, "I WANT SUMMER NOW."

Although I somehow doubt I was the only one thinking this.

I sat in Stephen's Books on Saturday afternoon, my eyes intent on the pages

of Linger as I neared the end, and my cell phone rang in my pocket. I pulled it

out and glanced at the caller id before pressing "accept" and saying, "Hello?"

into the phone with a smile. "Hey!" Tammy's giddy voice replied. "Hey, Tammy,"

I replied, still smiling as I looked back down at my book, staring at the green

words on the page without registering them. "So, how've things been? Did you

work everything out with Tyler?" I remembered that the last night Tammy had

been with me had been the day after I'd confessed to Tyler about Dustin's death.

I bit my lip, "Oh, um, yup. It's all good."

"So are you guys going out yet?" she asked hurriedly. My eyebrows shot up.

"Excuse me?"

"Are you guys going out yet?"

"Tyler and I?"

"No, you and Sean. Yes, Tyler and you."

"Oh, um, no. It's not like that, I mean..."

"Yes it is."

"What is?"

"It is like that." I bit my lip, not sure if I could really argue with that, and said,

"Well, um, he lives, like, seven hours away, you know." Tammy sighed, "Ah, the

tragedy of distance killing love." I laughed and rolled my eyes, and I heard

someone yelling on the other side of the line.

"One sec," Tammy said before the line went muffled and I heard indecipherable

yelling. Then Milly's voice was back, and she said, "Sorry, Ang, I gotta go,

problems in the jean department. I'll call you back, k?"

"Yea, sure. See you later."

"Bye!" and the line went dead.

© 2010

Spoon part 17

"Kristin?"

"Jeanette! Oh my gosh, are you alright? Where are you?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine. Katherine and I are at your place." I practically screamed, "What?! Are the paparazzi everywhere? Oh, geez, I'm so sorry-" Jeanette cut me off, "No, no, not Jackson's house. Yours. Kassy called us yesterday and told us to go to your parents' place-she said if we stayed at our houses or Jackson's, we'd be eaten alive by paparazzi pretty soon. So we had a sleepover at your place last night." I breathed a long sigh of relief and Jeanette said, "That was really brave, Kris. I saw the whole show on TV. I like the song, too." I laughed- Jeanette, always looking at the silver lining- and gratefully accepted the coffee Kassy's sister offered me. I sighed, "Well, I have an interview today. I'm going to solidify that I'm Jackson and then hopefully this will all end soon enough." Jeanette sighed, "This sucks. And those poor guys- they get teamed up with members that are awesome and sure to never break up, and then the band dies 'cause one of them's actually a girl." I laughed and shook my head, "I gotta go. I'll talk to you guys later."

"Ok. Hang in there, babe."

"You too. And thanks. Bye."

"Ciao."

Jackson Aepatt didn't exactly die quickly. I had to do interviews with basically every major news channel and magazine in the US before it was finally the straight-up truth that Jackson Aepatt was not real. I was afraid I would be charged with fraud, but Kassy took care of all the legal stuff quickly enough. The biggest shock of it all was finding out that the person who had leaked the story was Kassy's daughter. Kassy was devastated and with the way she was fuming, I was surprised she didn't disown her. I was pretty ticked at her, too, but I couldn't get too mad, because I knew pretty much anyone with that kind of a secret on their shoulders and that much to gain from leaking it would probably do the same thing. I had a scheduled meeting with the guys today and Jackson's-now, my- house. It was private, not for public viewing or anything like that- but I... just needed to talk to them. I hadn't since the night of the concert, and I was really grateful to them for having not talked to paparazzi about anything, only saying that they, "Found out about this at the same time as the rest of the world," in Luther's words.

Now, I opened my front door and bit my lip as the guys stared at me. They were all holding their favorite snacks, enough for four, along with each holding a carton of Haagen Daaz ice cream. I wanted to be strong when I saw them for the first time after the confession, but I couldn't help it. Seeing them there, staring at me with those blank expressions, holding the foods from our touring like a peace offering, I broke down and started crying. They just stood there awkwardly, Kevin looking desperate, as if he felt like he needed to do something but didn't know what, Luther looking horrified, and Joel looking like he wanted to cry, too. I pushed the door the rest of the way open and quickly waved them in. They put their stuff down on the coffee table and all sat down on the long couch as I rinsed my face in the bathroom.

I sat down on one of my arm chairs, facing the couch, and put my head in my hands for a moment before looking up and finally saying, "Look, you guys- I can't even describe to you how sorry I am. I just... when this all started, I thought it was a joke. I didn't expect anything to come out of it. And then, you guys showed up, and you were so awesome, and I couldn't just turn you down..." my voice trailed off, it was so strange telling the guys this story as if they hadn't been present when it had played out. But they really didn't know anything about it. I took in a jagged breath, "It just got out of hand." I shook my head, "I'm really sorry that you guys had to get involved in all this. It was really selfish of me to do this to you." I didn't really know what else to say. And they didn't say anything in response. We all sat there in awkward silence for what seemed like an eternity before Kevin's face suddenly glazed over in shock and he looked up at me with wide eyes and a dropped jaw, "Holy crap." I rose an eyebrow, "What?"

He just blinked at me for a moment before finally saying, slowly, "I've been sharing a bed with you on every single tour." I fought a laugh as I nodded and said, "Um, yea, that was sort of a one-sided awkward situation." He just scream-groaned, and dropped his head into his hands, shaking his head. Luther whistled through his teeth and said, "So this is why you freaked out every time we knocked on the bathroom door." I laughed, "Um, yup, that's why." The rest of the afternoon was pretty much just spent reviewing all the things they should have realized that showed my obvious female-ness. Joel didn't say much of anything the whole time, just kind of grinning at the occasional funny observation and sometimes throwing in an observation of his own. When they left, I didn't really feel any sort of closure. If my relationship with them had been a cracked open door, and I had been waiting for closure, I would say that the door really just opened wider that day.

© 2010

Spoon part 16

"How you all doin' tonight?" I asked the crowd as I leaned into the microphone the following night. I smiled slightly as they hollered in response and then I leaned back into the mic again and said, "I've got a little something new for you guys tonight," the crowd screamed again and I glanced back to see all Kevin and Luther raise their eyebrows as Joel sort of half-smiled at me. I looked back out at the crowd and said, "I'm gonna need you guys to bare with me here, 'cause this is a surprise to everyone here, not just you guys." The crowd hollered even louder in response to this. I turned around and pulled papers out of my jacket pocket, handing the sheet music to the guys as they stared at me with wide eyes, all but Joel, who accepted it with a nod and said, "Good luck with her." I smiled slightly in response and just shook my head at the irony of this statement as I stepped back up the mic and said, "This song is called I Have To." I looked back and nodded at Joel, who smiled widely at me before starting off the song. I leaned back into the mic and sang, loud and clear,

I spend too much time

Thinking about the past

I should move on with my life

I'm stuck in a life that won't last

But it's so hard to move on

From the life that we lived to hold on to

And it's so hard to admit I'm wrong

About the things that I've always wanted

Always dreamed of

It's not that I haven't yet realized

That the path I've been taking

Is all wrong

It's just that it's so hard to move on

When I have worked so hard

To find this place where I feel I belong

But it's so hard to move on

From the life that we lived to hold on to

And it's so hard to admit I'm wrong

About the things that I've always wanted

Always dreamed of

And I know what they're saying about me

And I know that what they say is only truth

And I realize that I'm digging my own grave

And I realize that I no longer belong

Here

Or anywhere near here

But it's so hard to move on

From the life that we lived to hold on to

And it's so hard to admit (that) I'm wrong

About the things that I've always wanted

Always dreamed of

I can remember times when I would fantasize

About the life I'm living now,

The one that's flashing before my eyes

I can recall days when I would linger

On how the success felt-

But now it's slipping through my fingers

And I know it's time to move on

From the life that I lived to hold on to

And though it's hard to admit I'm wrong

About the things that I've always wanted

Always dreamed of

I will now

'Cause I have to

I leaned away from the mic at the end of the song and caught my breath as the crowd screamed and hollered and yelled my name. I took another deep breath before leaning back into the mic and saying- in my British accent, for the last time- "I have a little something to show you guys before this is over." They probably all assumed I was talking about the concert. But I wasn't. I was talking about Jackson, I was talking about Spoon. I was talking about all of this. I stepped away from the mic and saw the guys, whose eyebrows were all raised now, from the corner of my eye before I looked straight at the stage lights and took off my wig.

"Well," Kassy said to me as I pulled open her car door and slipped in, my cheeks streaked with tears and my bags in my hands, "That was certainly not the approach I had been expecting..." She bit her lip and started the car before looking at me and saying with a little smile, "But effective, nonetheless, right?" I nodded and stared out at the road. I couldn't stop thinking about all that I heard after I had taken my wig off. First, for the first time ever since I had started performing, there was nothing but complete, undisturbed silence from the crowd. From everyone. And then they started screaming again- but for albeit completely different reasons. Screams of horror, rage, and despair filled my ears before things started being thrown onto the stage and someone pulled me quickly off the stage. I didn't realize until later that the arms that had pulled my stiff body off that stage had been Joel's. Then, when I was finally out, back in the bus- their was more silence. I sat alone on one of the couches while Kevin stepped into the bathroom- he was literally sick to his stomach- Luther stepped into the back of the bus, his head hanging down, and Joel sat across from me, staring out the window. Everyone's reactions didn't surprise me at all. I called Kassy as soon as everyone went to sleep- having not spoken a word to me- and begged her to come and get me. Luckily, she had already been on her way, having heard the news. I had packed my things in silence the next morning as the guys all sat in the front of the bus-Joel in the armchair, quietly reading a book, Kevin next to Luther on the couch, eating a Subway sandwich and staring at the ground, and Luther sitting with his hands clasped behind his head as he stared out the opposite window, his eyes dazes. I didn't even say goodbye as Kassy's car came up next to the parked bus, just walked past the guys and out the open bus doors, into Kassy's arms as she squeezed me through the crowd of paparazzi that had gathered the night before and relentlessly didn't move.

Kassy and I drove in silence now, her taking every random road she came by until she finally lost the paparazzi that followed us on a dirt road that came out of nowhere. I finally cleared my throat, "Um, do you know where we're going?" She nodded, "Mhm. I have a sister who has a house here." I rose an eyebrow, "And you know how to get there from this random dirt road?" She laughed, "No, but my GPS does." She smiled at me as she pulled over for a moment and I stared out the window as she put in the address of her sister's house, then starting again onto a different road, where, luckily, no paparazzi vans were waiting for us.

© 2010

Last Book In Maggie's trilogy(FOREVER)/GAHHHH!!!!!!!!

OMGOMGOMGOMG-OSH

So, remember how I'm, like, totally obsessed with Maggie Stiefvater? Yea, well, check out the beautifulness of this.

OH MY GOODNESS

WOW that is breathtaking. I am soooooooooooooooooo psyched. And you are too.

Because I am. And you're very empathetic- so you feel everything I feel. OW! I stubbed my

toe. But you know that already, 'cause you felt it.

You can pre-order this wonderful masterpiece (FOREVER, not my stubbed toe,)

HERE:

http://www.fountainbookstore.com/autograph-maggie

And you can be a scary Stiefvater fan girl like I am

HERE:

http://m-stiefvater.livejournal.com/

In case you want to. And you do, because you feel everything I feel, and I feel the need to be

and obsessed fan girl of Maggie Stiefvater. (And Adam Young, who you are also an obsessed

fan girl of, even if you're a guy.)

Now, just another moment in basking in the beautifulness of this cover, next to its companions

so that you can get the full effect:

Ok, I'm done now.

(Sorry that the last picture is so puny, that's the maximum size of pictures you can upload to blogger. :( sad face. The arrows say Sam, Cole, Isabel, Grace, and Sam.)

(Also, the girl in Linger is not necessarily Isabel, it could also be Grace, but I labeled her as Isabel for the purpose of including all the main characters' names on the covers.)

© 2010

Legend of Peter Pan

I saw Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga'hoole (go see it now) yesterday. Twas AMAZING and I had a total spazz attack when To the Sky (the song Adam wrote for the movie) played. (Yea, if you saw it yesterday and happened to see some girl freaking out when that song was playing from the corner of your eye, that was me.) I think I probably got more excited than Adam did when he heard his song in the film.

In news not relating to Adam Young, (rare occasion around here, I know,) I have been completely obsessing over Peter Pan this last week for some reason. I had to write an essay in my English class that focused on the meaning of innocence and (super-common-English-topic) the loss of innocence. I referenced Peter Pan in my paper, and then I found the book in my closet when I was looking for a sweater, and then I remembered that I had the DVD of the 2003 version, (with real people.) I watched the movie, I'm reading the book, and I've fallen in love with the story all over again. Super-dorky, I know, but...I don't really care. So, I've compiled a list of things I need to buy on iTunes the next time I purchase an iTunes card:

1. Sky Sailing album: An Airplane Carried Me to Bed
2. Youtopia by Armin Van Burren ft. Adam Young
3. Fireflies (music video) by Owl City
4. Vanilla Twilight (music video) by Owl City
5. Umbrella Beach (music video) by Owl City
6. To the Sky (music video, once it's released on iTunes) by Owl City
7. Brielle (music video) by Sky Sailing
8. Peter Pan soundtrack (2003 movie)
9. Welcome Home by Radical Face (Maggie Stiefvater recommendation)
10. The Sound of Silence by Simon and Garfunkel
11. The Boxer by Simon and Garfunkel
12. Eclipse (the movie) soundtrack (scores only, I'm not too fond of the actual movie soundtrack- the one with lyrics, I mean)
13. The Mitch Hansen Band album: Twilight Hour

So maybe you should go out and purchase all those nifty tracks too. I don't know 'bout you, but I love 'em.

À bientôt,

߈´˜˜å

(Sienna with the option key pressed)

(professional wrestler in all 60 states)

© 2010

Broken Glass, Broken Hearts part 69

For some reason that truly escapes me, cold showers are one of life's most thrilling things to do. They're freeing and shocking and even painful, but they also make you feel a lot more clean than a normal shower does. I walked outside after I had showered and took in a deep breath of the cool Saturday morning air. Jake was still sleeping, my dad had left for work, and my mom left early to go to the gym. I stuck my hands in my pockets and walked to the bottom of the driveway, sitting down on the curb and leaning against the mailbox. I closed my eyes and started humming To the Sky, a song by Owl City that I had found from a movie trailer and been listening to on repeat lately. The wind whistled through my neighbors wind chimes, and I opened my eyes and listened to the tingling for a moment before standing up and walking into the woods.

I sat next to Milly at 10 on Saturday, shoveling cereal into my mouth and watching as she put stencils over a white t-shirt. She set up the letter carefully, her arms set in a way so that I couldn't read what she was spelling out, and then she took her can of spray paint and sprayed over the whole top of the shirt. When she was finished, she removed the stencils and turned to smile at me. I looked at the shirt and read the words, "This too shall pass" a quote I had heard many times before. I rose an eyebrow and smiled back at her. It looked so strange, so out of place. Those particular words just didn't seem like the type of words you spray paint on t-shirts. But hey, what did I know about these things?

I walked into the kitchen and paused, seeing Jake chopping carrots violently with a steak kinfe. I rose an eyebrow and walked up, saying quietly, "What are you doing?"

"Making salad," he grunted. Both of my eyebrows shot up, "Um. That's what you call that?" Jake spun at me and I jumped back, afraid he might accidently stab me. "Shut up, or I'll make you make it."

"I'm fine with making it. I like making salad."

"Shut up. Go away." I whistled, "Sheesh, someone's in a bad mood."

"How extremely observant you are," he shot back sarcastically. I narrowed my eyes, "Ok, Jake, clearly something's up. What are you all worked up about?"

"Nothing," he grunted.

"Something," I protested.

"No."

"Yes."

"Shut up!"

"Not until you tell me what." He groaned and finally smacked the knife down on the sink and spun towards me. "Milly just called, Ok? And she said there's a good freaking chance that she's moving to New York. That's all, Ok? Can you leave me alone now?" My mouth fell open and my eyes widened in shock. Jake turned back to his poor carrots and I stumbled to the couch sitting down and staring at the wall in front of me. Tyler and I had finally gotten past the one thing that was really keeping us apart. Right now, the only thing keeping us from each other was physical distance. This didn't seem like that big of a deal, especially when compared to the other problems we worked out. But physical distance could become a problem.

When it was all the way across the country.

© 2010

Broken Glass, Broken Hearts part 68

Milly found out that the decision was up to me. The result of her gaining this knowledge was that she started sucking up to me. Not subtly, either. Full-on,

"Tyler, can I get you anything?"

"Tyler, that outfit looks very nice on you."

"Tyler, you are such a good older brother."

And then, the worst, my weakness, the pushing of my button:

"Gee, Tyler, don't you miss Angela?"

She actually said 'gee'. I glared at her and said, "You are really getting on my nerves." She smiled and said innocently, "I'll stop if you tell mom you want to move back to grandma's neighborhood."

"You are not even sneaky about this."

"Why should I be? Being direct, I find, is much more efficient." I rolled my eyes and looked back down at the homework in front of me, waving her off with a flick of my hand. She sighed heavily and left my room.

"Leather? Or cashmere?" Kelly asked, holding out a sweater and a jacket in front of my face. I looked up from the book I was reading the back cover of and stared at the clothing items presented to me. "Hm," I said, "Well, what look are you going for?" She bit her lip, "I don't know."

"Well, more biker, or more church-goer?"

"I don't know."

"I like the cashmere one. The leather jacket seems a little over-exaggerated. And I don't think it will work with those jeans. Unless you were planning on changing...?"

"Nope. Thanks." She walked away from me, pulling the crimson cashmere sweater over her head. I looked back at the book in front of me, completing the summary before putting it back on the shelf and walking back to the cash register.

My mom could never cook. Well, that's the understatement of the century. When she "cooks", the responsible thing to do with her leftovers would be to deposit them into a pile of toxic waste. So when she walked out of the kitchen as I walked in the door after work, which had started right after school ended, wearing an apron that said, typically, "Kiss The Cook" and smiling widely at me- surprisingly not covered in flower like every horrible cook movie character to ever be created- my buzz from getting my check plummeted. "Um," I said, not sure what else to say. She smiled widely and said, "I made burritos!"

Burritos. Simple enough, not something easily destroyed.

But never doubt the skills of my mother in making a lovely dish turn evil.

Jake stared at the burrito on his plate for about five minutes straight before my mom finally said, "Are you not hungry, sweetheart?" Jake blinked at her and said, quickly, "Nope. I'm not. I think a bowl of Cheerios will fill me up, but thanks anyway." He quickly deposited the burrito into its rightfully deserved home, the trash can. As he poured a bowl of cereal for himself, I sighed heavily, imaging evenings to come- two months worth- of this same ritual. When I was finally released to my room, I climbed into my bed, pulled the covers over my head, and blasted my iPod in my ears, trying not to think about the fact that I was going to be stuck-alone- in this house for two months straight.

New York City. "The Big Apple". "The City That Never Sleeps." A highly desired place for people all over the world.

If only Angela lived there.

I didn't really have any idea how to go about the making of this decision. So I asked Sadie. Sadie, at first, said that I should make the decision to stay, but when I told her that wasn't an option, she composed a few lists to help me make a reasonable decision.

Pros of NYC

1. Makes mom happy

2. Saves gas

3. Social network to die for

4. LIGHTS

5. Connections

6. Always something to do

7. Opportunities

8. Desirable destination

9. Good schools

10. Cheap rent

Cons of NYC

1. High crime

2. Traffic

3. Hard to find housing

4. Difficult to find jobs

5. Familiar faces

6. Crowded everywhere

7. Tourists

8. Noise

9. Easy to get lost

10. No Angela

Pros of Old Town

1. Makes Milly happy

2. Close to grandma

3. Angela

4. Safe area

5. Familiar faces

6. Angela

7. Easy to get across town

8. Good water polo team

9. No traffic

10. Angela

Cons of Old Town

1. Not what moms wants

2. That's it.

© 2010

Broken Glass, Broken Hearts part 67

Of course my mom decides to responsible the one time I wish she wouldn't. "I can't make a decision for the life of me," she said to me, "and your sister wouldn't make the decision that's really what's best for this family. So I'm leaving this up to you. I hope you make the decision for everyone."

Great. No pressure, or anything.

I wanted to just say, "Oh, yea, we should move to grandma's neighborhood, it's a really great place," not only because I was desperate to move back to Angela, but also because I did love the area and New York didn't seem particularly practical. But my mom wanted to go to New York, I knew that much. And Milly, I was sure, would end up loving the state, especially NYC. I would be unhappy with either decision- guilty if I went to Angela, miserable if I had to leave her. So maybe I should just ignore my feelings and think of only what was best for my mom and Milly.

Unfortunately, that did not make the decision any easier.

The warming weather made the stuffy little bookstore even stuffier, so that

I found myself constantly fanning myself with pamphlets and emptying out the

water bottles that were kept in the mini fridge in the back room. Despite the

uncomfortable temperature, I came to remember why I had loved working at

the bookstore back in ninth grade. I remembered the day that Dustin came up

to me with the information for the job, giddy and bouncing. I didn't really want

to work at a bookstore, but I also didn't want to sit at home while Dustin got a

job, so I went to work with her. I was always the one who lounged around the

cash register, reading and loving the smell of all those pages, while Dustin

fluttered around, constantly rearranging books, making absurd patterns based

on character interests and the names in dedications rather than in alphabetical

order by author, frustrating customers constantly until Stephen finally put his

foot down and made her put the books back in ordinary order, leaving her only

to entertain herself by trying to memorize the acknowledgements in the back of

books as if they were monologues. I quit the job a while before she passed away,

in the summer before junior year, because I had heard that junior year was the

hardest, and I wanted to focus on school. I was planning on starting up in the job

again come summer, but then Dustin passed, and I didn't have the courage to go

back to the bookstore without her.

Now, though, here I was, sitting behind the cash register like I used to, reading

Linger by Maggie Stiefvater and smiling at the memory of my sister's peculiar

way of working. I had come a long way in the past year. And I had a good idea of

who it was that had helped me do that.

© 2010

"His palms are sweaty, knees weak, arms are heavy

There's vomit on his sweater already, mom's spaghetti

He's nervous, but on the surface he looks calm and ready

To drop bombs, but he keeps on forgetting

What he wrote down, the whole crowd goes so loud-

He opens his mouth, but the words won't come out

He's choking, how? Everybody's joking now

The clock's running out, time's up, over, BLOW!

Snap back to reality- Oh! There goes gravity

Oh, there goes the Rabbit, he choked

He's so mad, but he won't give up that easy, no

He won't have it, he knows his whole back's at these ropes

It doesn't matter, he's dope

He knows that, but he's broke

He's so stagnant that he knows

When he goes back to his mobile home, that's when it's

Back to the lab again yo

The old rhapsody

Better go capture this moment and hope it don't pass him

You better lose yourself, in the music, the moment,

You own it, you better never let it go

You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow

This opportunity comes once in a lifetime yo"

-Marshall Mathers (Eminem), Lose Yourself

Le Démon Vertueux

Livid

from the expression on his face

Caught off-guard

by the way he whispers grace

Shivers

because his footsteps leave no trace

Deeper

into this wicked place

Livide

de l'expression sur son visage

Pris de la garde

bar la façon dont il chucote la grâce

Frisson

parce que ses traces ne laissent aucune trace

Plus

dans ce lieu méchants

p.s. No, I don't know that much French already. I looked up the french words for my poem on Google. Google is one of my best friends.

© 2010

Broken Glass, Broken Hearts part 66

To say that the the weather was warming up would be a bit of an exaggeration. The sun hardly ever shown absolutely clear here. That's not to say we never saw the sun. We just rarely saw the sun without a raincoat of clouds. The air was, however, starting to feel less icy, like the invisible snowflakes that I had imagined flying around in the air for months now were finally melting.

It was unsettling, the fact that summer was coming soon. School was structure, rules to follow, places to go, people to see, every day. Summer was freedom. To most, this sounded just lovely. To me, it sounded... well, like I said, unsettling.

Of course I was happy that the school year was drawing to a close, and excited that my senior year was so close. But the idea of having two whole months in my house, with my parents and my brother, and with no consellation of having Tyler nearby to take me away when I needed escape, was driving me crazy. Jake walked around in a fog, miserable because Milly was gone and bored out of his mind all the time because that's the way freshman boys are. He sat around eating junk food, watching TV, and playing video games, about 80% of the time, when he wasn't:

A. In school

B. In his room blasting music

So a summer alone with him was not exactly an exciting notion for me. And then there was my parents, still constantly trying to entertain themselves, never facing up to the fact that there daughter was dead and no amount of cocktail parties and dinners and movies were going to change that. The worst part about there strange way of mourning was that they seemed to have forgotten that they had other kids, kids who were still alive, and who needed them, were waiting for them to come back, to tell them everything was just fine.

So you see why staying in school for a while a little while longer didn't sound to unappealing to me.

I sat in my room one evening, staring at the essay prompt in front of me and trying to compose my thoughts, to form them into sentences that would make sense of paper, my pencil hovering over the word, "unbelievable" in my third body paragraph- when I realized that I heard music. I put my pencil down and looked around, wondering where the sound was coming from. I stood up, pushing aside my binder, and took another glance around the room. The noise was clearly not coming from downstairs. It was very faint, and... it almost sounded like it was coming from Dustin's and my hallway. I walked slowly over the door and pulled it open, and, sure enough, the faint noise became slightly louder, though it was still muffled, and quiet. I walked to the end of the short hallway and turned the handle of the back room, pushing the door slightly ajar- and the music became clearer, though still quiet. I pushed the door the rest of the way open and walked into the room, and it became obvious that the music was coming from the chest. I kneeled on the ground, my jeans surely getting covered in dust, and pulled the the top slowly up on the chest, looking in. I moved a few things around until I found Dustin's iPod. An unstable tennis ball that had been balancing on a large children's hardcover book for months had finally given up, falling deeper into the chest and startling awake the hibernating iPod. Solar Midnite by Lupe Fiasco blasted from the iPod that had been last been played at full volume. I pulled the iPod out and stared at the screen. It read,

Lupe Fiasco

Solar Midnite

New Moon Soundtrack

I remembered how much Dustin had loved the popular book series. I had loved it, too, but not nearly as much as her- well, I wasn't the one who obsessed over things. I smiled, remembering all her Good Charlotte shirts that were quickly replaced by Twilight shirts when the movies came out. I had really liked the stories, too, though- the enormous poster of Bella and Edward that Dustin had tacked onto our wall still remained there, though it was slightly tattered. I looked back down into the chest where I had found the iPod and my eyes settled on one of Dustin's sketch pad. It was open to an incomplete sketch of Dustin and I, a copy she had been doing of a photograph we took when we visited a beach in California. The faces were the incomplete part of the sketch- Dustin had often done that, gotten completely through a sketch only to get frustrated when she started on the faces, drawing and redrawing them until her pencil eraser was completely gone, at which point she would sigh heavily and go do something else. I pulled the sketch pad out and ripped the picture out, looking at it. I could see that shadows of where the faces she had erased multiple times had been. There was one line that had clearly been erased the most recently, a line across her cheek, a mistake, a slip of her pencil. I remembered her laying there on the day she left me, laying on the glass shards. I remembered the cut across her cheek, the first one I had seen, before my eyes quickly looked down at the huge shard of glass pointing out of her chest. I remembered looking back at her face, in shock, and just staring at the insignificant cut on her cheek, not fully able to process what had just happened.

Dustin had always loved the summer.

I folded the sketch and put it in the back pocket of my jeans, reaching into the chest to find Dustin's headphones, which I plugged back into the iPod before turning it off and wrapping the cord of the headphones around it. I closed the chest and stood up, pulling the door closed behind me as I headed back to my room with the picture and Dustin's iPod.

© 2010

Broken Glass, Broken Hearts part 65

It was an unbelievably freeing feeling, knowing that Tyler knew. Knowing now that all the parts of my life- no matter how damaged those parts may be- were connected. I could feel Dustin sitting behind me, brushing my hair with her fingers and whispering that everything was going to be all right. I could call Tyler and hear his calming voice, so happy to hear mine. I was so miserable, separated from two of the most important people in my life.

And yet I was so joyful, because I knew that all was right with us again.

The weather started to clear up a couple weeks after the dance. It had been foggy for a couple months now, but as the summer drew closer, the whisper of sun promised to come soon. This put Sadie in a good mood, with even more energy than she commonly had, but I had mixed emotions. I didn't mind the fog, but sun was nice, too, so I didn't really have any opinion as far as the weather went. The actual thought of summer was what I was nervous about. Of course I was glad to have the year over with, that was a given. But my mom had come into my room a couple days ago and given me a piece of information that made me both extremely miserable and wonderfully ecstatic at the same time.

We were moving.

That much we were sure of. My mom had thought that this place was the one, that we were going to stay here. Neither Milly nor I were surprised when that turned out to be wrong. So we were definitely moving, we just weren't positive yet where.

The first option my mother had given me was the option that had filled me with overwhelming excitement. She had taken a liking to the area where my grandmother lived when she visited her there occasionally. "I don't know why I didn't think of it in the first place," she said to me, grinning, "I could have just gotten a house there, and then you kids wouldn't have had to leave your friends. Such a shame that it hadn't crossed me mind." Shame, indeed. If that was all she had said to me, I would have been bouncing up in down in my seat waiting for summer to arrive, counting the hours until I was able to be with Angela again.

But that wasn't all she said. "Now," she had said to me, "I know this doesn't sound good now, but you should really consider it. It's a wonderful place, and it would be such a different experience living there. It could really turn your life around." What was that supposed to mean? Did my life need to be turned around? "We could move back to grandma's little town, or we could move to New York." The feeling of ecstasy that had been forming in me plummeted in that moment, and my face fell to a blank slate, emotionless. My heart was beating double-time. The worst part, however, was not that I had to wait for my mom to make the decision, that I had to sit, tapping my foot on the floor, waiting for the single most indecisive woman in the world to make the decision that could either make or break my entire world.

The worst part was not that.

The worst part was that she left the decision up to me.

© 2010

Thank You, Marshall.

It's really nice to listen to Eminem after attempting to sing a three-part Madrigal from the 1600's.

© 2010

Lord

You are the dirt beneath my feet

That protects me from the sky

You are the pain that I feel

That protects me from getting hurt

You are the darkness of the night

That lets me sleep, holds me tight

You are the things that makes me alive

That keeps me strong when I am weak

You are the air of which I breath

You are the heart and soul of me

© 2010

Devyn part 15

Bubba was really acting weird lately. Antsy, almost, and always referring to Devyn and I as "kids", acting like he was our dad. He even once referred to himself as "daddy". He came into Jacob's one day and was sitting at one of the little tables, bouncing his leg up and down, and I tried to ignore him for a while until it finally became too much. I stepped around the counter and walked over to his table, refilling his coffee cup and saying, "Ok, Bub, I let you get away with this ADD act for a while, but now you've really got to tell me what's up. What's going on, is something wrong?" Bubba shook his head quickly and took a sip of his newly relinquished coffee, gazing out the window at the parking lot with far-off eyes. He was driving me crazy! "Bub," I said, "If something's going on, you really should know that you can tell me anything. I'm your best friend, Bub. It's me, Justin. Kid." He looked up at me, now, finally, and let out a long sigh before saying in a hurried tone, "Kassie's pregnant." I blinked, confused for a moment. "Excuse me?"

"Kassie. My sister. She's pregnant, with that slime-ball George's kid." I let this process for a moment, then tilting my head and saying, drawn out, "Ok?" I shook my head, confused as to what was so crazy about this. "They've been married for two years, Bub. I thought you were over the whole my-sister-married-a-slime-ball thing already." He groaned and put his hands in his hair, plopping his head down on the table shaking it. "I was! I was totally fine with it, I'd gotten used to it, everything was just fine. But I just can't deal with the thought of more, miniature versions of that idiot walking around! And I can't deal with the fact that there will be little slime-balls walking around that are my sister's kids, my nieces and nephews!"

"Is she having twins?"

"No."

"Then it's only one..."

"It doesn't matter! This is just the beginning! And besides, even if it was just one, it would be one too many people with that guy's genes coming into this Earth!"

"Bubba," I said, "I think you might be over-exaggerating this. George isn't that bad of a guy. And you don't know that his kids will be exactly like him."

"They'll have his genes. And they'll be raised by him." I shook my head, "Yes, but they'll also have Kassie's genes. And be raised by her." I smiled at him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "All I'm saying is that I think you should have a little more faith in your sister that she can still make good kids, even if they are risen partially by a guy that you think is a slime-ball."

"I have no faith left for her. She's the one who married the jerk." I tried to stifle a laugh as I said, "Get out of here, Bub. You need to get out, get some fresh air, calm down. It's all gonna be Ok." He shook his head, sighing as he stood up and grabbed his jacket. "You say that now," he started, "but you'll know my pain when you have to help me babysit the little demons."

"Bye bye, Bubba."

"Gmph."

© 2010