fernando ramos:

Thursday September 9, 1993

My sister’s been pretty cool at playing chauffeur lately. She gave me another ride to the library yesterday and earlier this afternoon she picked me up from school after the Echoes meeting. I got a nice earful too…the latest updates. I was a little disappointed to hear the drama regarding Patricia and Ramon…seems like things didn’t exactly work out. It actually made me sad a little cuz I was sorta rooting for her…for Patty—despite her bitch outburst. She’s a great girl…I probably just caught her off guard that day and her meanie words were nothing more than a reactionary defense mechanism. I don’t know…whatever. I don’t plan on approaching her anytime soon anyway.
   My sister’s gone right now. She invited me to sneak out the house with her, but I just wasn’t in the mood and I’ve got maybe twenty things I’d like to get done before laying head to pillow. I’m in bed as I write this…ugh. That pillow won’t stop whispering my name. Shut up! I got shit to do.
   I’ll probably still be awake when Mary comes sneaking back in.
   While at the library yesterday, I returned two of the four books I had checked out on Tuesday and grabbed another three to take home with me. The material on the shelves is very limited. I’ve already flipped through the pages of every book available, browsing and skimming through lines for topics of interest. I found numerous other sources in the process, an array of relevant articles (some proved to be not so relevant), and various histories and real-life stories concerning the occult, paganism, and witchcraft. I need to absorb as much as I can, interpret whatever needs interpreting, consume whatever knowledge I’m able to gather. But the thing is…no matter how much information I try to retain, it seems like my brain keeps dying out on me like a faulty flashlight you gotta hit every so often, and all this stuff keeps getting confused and mixed up in my head. I forget a lot of the little details, and I constantly have to go back to review a word or a sentence  cuz I know that true understanding must be carefully shaped.
   During lunch, I regurgitate all that I learn with Fool’s Crow. He adds his input and we discuss and often debate the ideas. Talking things out with him actually helps deepen and reinforce everything I’ve been picking up. And he’s awesome to endure my ramblings. Sometimes I think he actually gets me going on biblical matters on purpose. But whenever Moonshadow and Sparrowhawk join us, we give it a rest. It’s so strange, actually…cuz I thought we were all in this together…but ever since last week I feel like I need to pull back on the enthusiasm.
   I didn’t think that’s how it would be. In fact, not once has the coven been discussed when the four of us have sat together in the cafeteria. I don’t get it…but whatever. I’d bring it up, but I hate starting shit. And as long as I’ve got Crow, I’m totally alright. Besides, I’ve got enough to worry about. Sleep deprivation for one. I’ve been walking around the halls like a zombie, sneaking naps during a few classes…even the non-boring ones.
   I’ve let research take precedence over everything in my life this week. I suppose that’s a good thing cuz I haven’t done much Heather pining lately. It doesn’t mean the two of us have been on hiatus. Far from it…we’ve actually gotten closer. We always talk before, during, and after class and we’ve spoken briefly on the phone every night this week. And no, it’s not me doing the calling…not always. Heheh. I tell myself I should try to avoid her more…but that ain’t happening. My feelings for her keep growing. Every time I look at her I think she’s more beautiful than the time before…like this amazing daily transformation taking place before my very eyes. And I just wanna be a part of it…I wanna transform too…with her…to appreciate everything that she is in more ways than I already do. I know it’s a fantasy, but I don’t care. I know that being in her presence makes me absolutely miserable, but I don’t care. I know that I love her and that my love isn’t wanted, but I don’t care. I just don’t care. Let it hurt. Let it hurt. I don’t care how much…I just wanna stay right here…even if right here means alone.
   Sometimes I talk about it with Peggy…but I think all I do is convince her more and more that Heather is a bitch. I have no idea how that happened. But on the phone last night, Peggy offered up another possibility.
   “You never know,” she said. “Maybe the dumbass wasn’t ready for a boyfriend…and when she said no, that’s all she meant. Doesn’t mean she won’t go on another date with you.”
   As soon as she said those words, it was like a thousand glorious fireworks going off at the same time. I was so caught up in all my stupid self-pity that I never even considered it…I just assumed the worst without giving myself a chance to prove it otherwise.
   “You really think so?” I asked.
   “Well…you never know, right? I mean…you guys still talk a lot…she wouldn’t call you if she didn’t like talking to you.”
   “But that doesn’t—”
   “But you never know! How about you invite her to the party on Friday?”
   “What?”
   “Yeah…this way you guys can totally hang out in a more…social setting. She’ll meet your friends…she’ll see how much we love you…she’ll change her mind…and you guys will be humping in no time at all.”
   I laughed at the notion.
   “Yeah right,” I said. “I wish…and besides, that first date?…I’m pretty sure that was a pity-date.”
   “Okay…stop it, Billy. First of all…no one pities you more than you. And second of all…enough wallowing! Just ask the girl out on another date already, pissy-pants!”
   Ahh…haven’t heard that one before.
   “I think you should try,” she continued. “Just give it one more chance…maybe she’ll surprise you.”
   “I don’t know.”
   “Just do it, will ya? Please? For me?”
   “For you?”
   “Yeah…for me…so I don’t have to put up with your whining anymore. Come on…take her to the party on Friday…we’ll have a blast…and oooh…I’ll flirt with you a lot…you know, to make her jealous. That’ll totally get her going.”
   “Won’t Mark be there?”
   “Oh, don’t worry about him. Just do it, ’kay?”
   “I’ll give it a shot.”
   And I did. Not right away of course…I had to mentally prepare myself for the task.
   I sat outside with Heather this afternoon…on our usual bench. Echoes had just let out.
   “You know, if you want…you can tell your mom my sister can take you home on Thursdays,” I said.
   “Nah…that’s okay,” she said. “We actually do our mom and daughter bonding on Thursdays…go to a store or get some ice cream or whatever we feel like doing.”
   “Oh…okay. Just thought I’d offer,” I said quickly, shrugging my shoulders. “How many d’you get, anyway?” I reached for her proofreading folder.
   “Just two.”
   “Well…wait for the end of the school year…we’ll be taking stacks home with us.”
   “Sounds like fun…and what the hell was up with —— ? The guy’s a total creep.”
   “He’s okay.”
   “Of course you would say that! You’re a boy!”
   I laughed.
   “Damn proud of it too,” I said.
   “You’re all a bunch of sexist pigs.”
   “It just depends on the girl.”
   “Screw that.”
   “Well what would you prefer?”
   “For him to keep his opinions to himself.”
   “You mean for him to censor himself?”
   “Sometimes it’s for the best.”
   “That’s fucking bullshit coming from you…”
   “I know…he just makes me wanna slap someone.”
   “You can slap me if you want.”
   “I so knew you were gonna say that.”
   “Cuz you set me up for it.”
   “Whatever. Are you calling me a tease?”
   “No comment.”
   “HA! Like I said! You’re all a bunch of sexist pigs!”
   Goddamnit!
   “Fine, you win,” I said. “I bow to you, oh royal feminist highness.”
   “Cuz sarcasm is always appreciated.”
   “I am but your humble student.”
   “Man, you’re on a roll today.”
   “Why thanks…but you’re not laughing.”
   “I keep it all inside,” she said.
   “Well you should share.”
   She gave it a ponder, then shook her head. “Nah…”
   “I’m going to a party tomorrow night,” I said. “I’d like for you to go with me.”
   Her whole face changed. Here went nothing.
   “A bunch of my friends are gonna be there,” I added as all the self-doubts I had managed pushing away started crawling back in. But I kept my eyes glued on her face…it was crucial…and I saw her defenses going up in her eyes…in the tightening of her cheeks. It was a lost cause…no need to finish the conversation. Her face said it all.
   Not this again.
   “As a date or as a friend?” she asked.
   “Whichever you’d prefer,” I said…pretending indifference.
   “That’d be fun,” she said. “I’d love to go as a friend.”
   Of course.
   You’d think I’d be used to it by now. But it’s like I love setting myself up for disappointments. I wish I had the balls to ask her why she doesn’t like me. I wish it was proper etiquette for me to demand an explanation and for her to go down her list of reasons (Why Billy Is Not Good Boyfriend Material). But I suppose not knowing is better…the knowing would probably be more than I could handle anyway…especially if there are things I can’t change about myself. But what if I could change them? I would change them. For her…I’d do just about anything. I’d grovel to the ends of the earth and back, scraped and bleeding…and do it all over again if she asked it. But I have a feeling it still wouldn’t be enough. There’s no law that states just because I love someone, they must love me back. Life doesn’t work that way…and I’m gonna have to deal with it.
   Can I deal with it?
   I don’t know.
   But still…here I am…ever hopeful…trying to keep in mind what Peggy said yesterday. Heather and I will go to the party and we’ll go as friends…but maybe we’ll have a good time and something will spark…maybe she’ll even see me for the first time…and in her eyes I’ll be more than a four-eyed geek with a taste for horror books…and all those unfair assumptions she’d written on that list will begin to be crossed out.
   Hell, maybe she’ll even make a new list.
   Why Billy Would Be the Best Boyfriend EVER!
   But now that I think about it, Heather really isn’t a list person.
   In fact, neither am I.

~

Next Entry: Sunday September 12, 1993

© 2010 fernando ramos, excerpt from billy reflects – the journals of a smalltown boy