Imagine being able to move your way up
Brick towers
Secured right on
Like a snake.
It was a windy September morning when The Vines
Floated over the cobblestones
Into the school doors.
First was Nicolette, her hair
Shiny
Like polished counters in her loft.
Then was Bridget,
Tall and thin and walked like a fairy should walk,
We weren’t sure if she stepped down the halls or simply
Let the wind take her through.
And Eve,
So clever that this one wouldn’t
Fall for cursed fruit.
Then me,
But my eyes retained the beauty
I should have been seeing around me.
The classrooms looked the same,
The people slightly different.
And we exchanged thoughts of who got
prettier
who got
uglier.
And then later we’d all stay up late talking about love;
How stupid it was.
How everyone would love to think they were immune to it,
But how it is so easily captivating.
And how everyone just wants someone.
And how nobody can ever have someone.
And things that are fleeting,
And things that are confusing.
How those two go hand-in-hand.
But more importantly, we talked about how
sometimes
we walked on the other side of the street
to see how different the view looked.

You didn’t know the rules of it;
There was the beginning.
The thing about love is you never really have it.
You just have someone,
But all the time when I had someone
They’d have me
but not want me.
The Vines entangled me and then it was like
I was wanted
and there was this wonderful
chase
every boy was playing.
But the thing about a chase
Is that you can either run forever,
lose,
win,
or stop the race altogether.
“I wish I could stay.”
My fingers running through his sandy hair.
The beach was almost empty; the sky had lost its sun.
“Then stay.”
He held my side and brought me closer,
Letting him kiss my cheek, leaning towards him and
resting my cheek on his warm
shoulder.
I laughed. “I wish.”
And he pulled away,
Looking right into my eyes and saying:
“Then stay.”
Once more.
“My parents want me home.”
He stared at me, face flattening. “You hate your parents.”
Smiling,
“They don’t care.”
His hand brushing my smile,
“There it is.” Smiling back. “You haven’t done that in a long time.”
“Done what?”
Staring, tilting his head, thinking:
“Smiled.”
Brushing my lips against his hand, holding it for a moment more,
“Maybe later.”
He raised an eyebrow. “On a school night?”
Laughing, I say back:
“I’m a bad girl when I want to be.”

It was the time of summer when it’s already over
But it keeps going on.
When you’re holding on to this little
Thread
Strand
And screaming, “I can’t wait another year”
Like a lost love
Or a boat moving towards sea.
You want it back;
But patience is the only option.
S***.

The room illuminated all of a sudden
And this terrible noise
Exploded through everything.
In half a daze I briefly imagined
Abductions –
Like the stories Auntie used to tell the cousins.
“Watch out,”
She’d warn,
big eyes,
“There are a lot of them here.”
And so I sucked in my breath,
expecting something shattering,
but then once more
my phone beeped.
I’ll wait outside the door.
Then the next:
Anytime you wanna come outside, babe.
And believe me,
For a second I thought about it.
But that didn’t stop me from slipping on my shoes.
Tiptoeing,
Although I wasn’t sure
If I really didn’t want
To be caught.
Sometimes I wished that
I loved him.
Even if he didn’t love me back,
Sometimes I think it would be nice to
have your heart broken.

He’s holding a sweater in his right hand
When I come out he
Smiles.
“Hey beautiful.” Wrapping me up in it.
Whispering in my ear,
“Think you’d be able to sneak out more often?”
I took a hand in mine,
His hand,
And ever so carefully he moved
So his arm touched mine.
The thing was
Touching him was normal,
natural;
Because it seemed like
Every time we touched,
He was expecting it.
“Guess what.” We sat on the beach now, feet bare and buried in
sand;
“What?”
And his eyes shimmered,
“I want you.”
There’s this moment where I saw him,
The way he looked at me,
And this wave overthrew me:
Because at that moment I wondered why,
When we’re all so dear to one another
We never care enough.
Letting the wariness ooze off of me like a blanket
Unwrapping
I stared at him,
He was beautiful under moonlight,
And I told a lie:
“I want you too.”

“Stop.” I breathed, bringing a hand to his chest and holding it there,
I could hear him breathing.
And he leaned towards me, kissing my neck.
“What is it?”
And my mouth all of a sudden felt dry, and I stared at him
And I said,
“You need to promise me something.”
He nodded, “Okay.”
“You-“ I ran my hand down his bare chest, listening to his heart
It was beating loud enough that
I could hear it from my head on the sand,
“You need to go steady with me.” I bumbled over my words.
And he grinned, white teeth and pink lips,
Kissing me gently.
“I’ll fucking marry you, Portia.”
His grin disappeared, and he became so much more serious now:
Kissing me lightly, then harder, kissing me all over, and breathing heavily:
“You’re beautiful, Portia.”
Blushing, my face was flushed.
My bare chest covered by his and my hair wrapping through seaweed and rocks,
“And I’ve been in love with you for so long.” He whispered,
So close that I could feel his eyelashes
Against mine.
“Really?” I bought it, but I let myself buy it.
He laughed, running a hand through his blonde hair, nodding.
“I just want you.” He shook his head, “I want you so badly.”
And I smiled at him.
“Tomorrow you’re driving me to school.” I told him,
“And holding my hand.” I continued,
“And when you wake up? You’ll kiss my forehead.”
His face remained flat, and he nodded,
“Anything.” He promised.
So I held out my pinky finger,
He broke a smile, linking his with mine.
“I promise.”
I nodded, “All right.”
And he moved closer, resting his body on mine,
“I love you.”
I kissed his cheek.
“Do you love me back?” He checked.
And I ran fingers through his hair,
“Ryan,” I began, raising my eyebrows,
“Every girl who has ever met you has fallen in love.”
He bit his lip.
“I only care about you.”

Imagine the moment
Right before a thunderclap
When all is silent,
completely silent,
and calm.
Imagine that rumbling,
how it begins low,
And slowly begins crawling through the
clouds
and you know it’ll pass,
But at that moment time freezes
And you hear everything so, so slowly
Like an ant it sneaks in and
Like a butterfly captivates you and
Like a hornet scares you
Then like a minute
It passes without action.
And that was sort of what it was like
When they walked into the school,
And silence erupted
So, so loudly.
There was something sweet in being stared at,
but then something sinister right behind.
Nicolette led them, her face stony.
Something caught in my throat,
And now she stood before me.
Eve’s face solemn,
Bridget’s startled.
And she positioned herself,
Staring down at me
And began:
“Portia, what the hell did you do?”
And my throat was dry,
And I begun thinking of answers,
but she answered for me:
“You b****.” And the sharp pain of her hand
Slapping my cheek,
shook the locker next to me,
rattled my bones
bumbled along my nerves
and I fell,
capsized
A sinking boat,
to the floor.
She hovered over me, and her eyes wet with tears she said:
In this sing-song voice which she always had:
“You slept with him.”
And I brought a hand to my mouth,
My lip was bleeding.
“You slept with Ryan last night.” Her words clipped,
As if by scissors,
And her eyes sliced into mine like
knives
and she stepped backwards,
Like I reeked of something.
And in disgust she turned,
Walked away,
And Bridget and Eve stared down at me.
Eve extended an arm.
And stared
As I let her help me up.
And then the entire hall stared at me
Shocked,
Excited,
Glad they weren’t
me.
And Bridget stepped towards the onlookers,
raising an eyebrow,
hip cocked with a hand placed
So delicately on it.
They turned away.
And Eve kept staring at me,
finally:
“What were you thinking?”
And I tried to answer,
And then he tapped my shoulder.
Eve’s face fell.
Bridget bit her lip.
Ryan took both my shoulders, “I’m sorry.”
And I took a step back.
He tried moving closer, “Portia come on.”
And I shook my head.
“I never liked you.” I blurted, rubbing at the blood and the tears.
He put his warm hand on my face,
shivering down my spine,
staring at me and what surprised me was
he looked so hurt.
“I’m sorry. We’ll fix this.”
I shook my head.
“I never liked you.”
The words tasted salty on my tongue,
but also like they didn’t belong.
Yet they fit perfectly within the creases of my
Lips
That he had kissed.
And I kept myself from falling into the dreamland,
But his lips were so close.
And what compelled me to lean in and kiss him,
And feel so at ease with his arms on my waist,
And let my body fall into his,
And let his hands grasp mine,
And begin to smell him,
Taste him,
Opening my eyes and staring into his,
Then feeling the sob in my throat.
And again, moving backwards
Breaking the embrace.
None of it seemed right.
“It won’t work.” I told him, voice wavering.
And I’ll tell you this:
I’ve never felt so weak.
So Eve took one arm, brushing my bangs
Away from my eyes,
And told me she’d take me home.
And Ryan kept looking at me but now spoke to her:
“Is she all right?” Concerned, so, so worried.
And Eve looking icily at him. Opening her mouth like she
Wanted to say something,
Closing it like she
Decided against it.
“Just leave her alone.”
At this point
It was like
I could fall into anyone’s arms,
As long as they were around me.

There’s this lovely drama
that dawdles right behind
rainfalls.
All the youth in my town were so disturbed,
You could tell by the way whenever thunder came
they’d all be outside.
What I think is that it is in our nature
To always imagine in
happy endings,
Believe in them like they were
Ghosts after scary movies,
Santa Clause on Christmas Eve,
but now during every sad story about death and
lost loves
I find myself speculating
all the ways it can end well,
But there’s something telling me
Yeah,
everything seems sweet when left to just your mind.
Sometimes I wonder what shaped me.
And every time I begin this,
It reminds me of the seventh grade.
Miles Webber was the kind of boy
who made you feel
completely
and entirely
insignificant.
There were stories about how
He scooped girls up like water in palms,
Then slowly would let them drip away
Like the gaps between his fingers,
And he’d watch.
And it was frightening,
But mystifying.
And we were all in complete, utter, entire
love
Or love that seventh grade girls could muster.
I think the splendid thing was that when you heard his name,
Just heard it,
All of a sudden these shivers ran down your spine
tickled you in places
you couldn’t help notice in the seventh grade,
and you thought
and you imagined
how nice it would be to have a boy like Miles Webber –
at your beck and call.
Or even to give you a smile,
But this whole time the thing that changed me,
because there’s always something that changes someone,
was the fact that I had the idea.
It was:
What if I was like Miles Webber.
what if there were fables and fantasies attached
to my name
and what if I was remembered
like I’m remembering him now?
And I remember when we went to the high school graduation
Because Carly’s brother was there,
And I remember her whispering:
“How can someone never get attached to another person?”
and I remember whispering back:
“I think it’s all because you love someone, you just don’t know it yet.”
And she shook her head,
“Miles Webber will never love anyone.”
But looking into his eyes maybe I should have dreamed,
or hoped,
or imagined,
but right then it was like Miles Webber was a firework,
right before it erupted.
Silent, pregnant with baited breath and
I wanted to cause his sparks.

Eve said to me:
“You know, you come across as such a sad person.”
She said it after class one night when we were in the girls’ restrooms
changing because
we both had tennis
and she had these sneakers,
white ones,
that always looked new.
And I looked up at her,
Bridget and Nicolette weren’t there because
They went to field hockey,
and sometimes being alone with Eve
or anyone clever, for that matter,
frightened me.
It was like I thought
that they were dissecting me.
In a beautiful way I yearned for someone to figure me out,
But in an ugly way I shyed from
Resolutions
and Confrontations.
“Why is that?” I questioned, looking into the dusty mirror at the frowning girl
thinking:
It’s right in front of you.
Eve pulled back her pretty red hair,
shrugging carelessly.
“Just… you give off those vibes.”
And anger whipped through me like venom.
“I’m not a sad person.” Arguing like a toddler,
I felt stupid.
But as quickly as the venom was released I collected it all
back inside my head
and said –
“Do you remember Miles Webber?”
Silence.
A girl in the stall coughed.
Eve stared at me, narrowing her eyes:
“From five years ago?”
I nodded.
“I think so. Why?”
And I shrugged, ending it there.
Like, how does that feel?

Usually I look for ways to
sum things up.
How I’m feeling,
And I’d be able to pin it down
Like a squirming bug.
Then maybe I could squash it.
The thing that will let you down is this:
I will never
meet Miles Webber.
And everyone would say:
that’s how you ruin a story.
But I think
it’s all for the better:
Because it was people like Miles Webber
who ruined a life.
The dark was a place I visited a lot,
Because it always came with an excuse
for bumping into something.
It was hard to explain what happened to me
that Saturday
in December.
It is hard to describe
How it felt
But it starts like:
I’m completely bare, and my feet have no shoes on them.
I’m standing on the beach
and I’m wondering if I’m dreaming,
Or if I’m actually awake.
And then when I step into a wave
and feel the coolness
I know that it is all real.
That scared me.
And it was like all of a sudden my legs began to control me.
When I was younger Mum used to tell me:
Don’t ever let yourself go,
Don’t ever lose yourself.
And I’d wonder why, but never voice it:
because she’d follow with:
“Sometimes, if a lovely young girl loses herself,
Then she’ll be forced to sit back and watch herself maneuver.
And not be able to do
a thing.”
It will be hard to explain what became on me that Saturday night;
But imagine a river that is completely and utterly calm,
And imagine a single bubble rising to the surface.
Then imagine tens of them,
hundreds,
thousands,
millions so that you can’t even count them anymore.
It’s bubbling like it’ll erupt
And the ground is shaking
And the leaves are shrieking
Birds whipping their feathers
The sky turns red
Fire red
Screams
Shouts
Bubbles
Rising to the trees like a curtain at the end of a show
And then:
Imagine the silence.
Imagine a calm pool with no bubbles.
It’s like that,
But try as I might,
I couldn’t stop the few more bubbles from protruding the surface.
That’s what it feels like to have semi-control.
That’s what happens
When young lovely girls
Lose track of themselves.