Love Letters to the Dead(6)

I thought of you, watching the earth always changing from above. The tall grass swaying. The rivers like long fingers and the fog from the sea sucking up the shore. And how, when you disappeared down there, you must have become a part of it.

Yours,

Laurel




Dear Kurt Cobain,

All weekend I had been worried that Natalie and Hannah might forget about me in school on Monday, but today in English, Natalie passed me a note that said lame-o! with an arrow pointing toward the guy sitting next to me, who was drawing naked boobs on his poem handout. I looked over at her desk and smiled to show that I got the joke. And at lunch, I saw Natalie and Hannah wave to me from their table. My heart leapt. I threw away my lunch bag with its kaiser roll in a quick toss and went to sit by them. Hannah was licking Doritos cheese off her fingers and passed me the bag.

I tried not to look, but after a while, my eyes found Sky. I saw him see me with my new friends. I wondered if the sun landed right on me like it did on them. I imagined growing brighter and let myself look back at him a moment too long.

Hannah caught me. “Who are you looking at?”

I mumbled, “Nobody,” but my cheeks got hot and probably red like an unfortunate truth meter.

Hannah insisted, “Who?! Tell me!”

I didn’t want to risk losing my new friends, so I said, “Oh. Um, I think his name is Sky.”

Hannah’s eyes picked him out, and she said, “Ooooh. Sky. Yeah. Mr. Mystery.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

Hannah shrugged. “He’s one of those guys everyone knows of, except no one actually knows him. He somehow manages to seem popular without having, like, any actual friends yet. He transferred here this year. He’s a junior. But he’s totally hot. I’d do him.”

Natalie hit her shoulder. “Hannah!”

“What?” she said. “I didn’t mean I’m gonna. He’s Laurel’s.”

I blushed again. I mumbled that he wasn’t.

Hannah looked over her shoulder and said, “We’ll make him yours. He’s looking at you.”

When I glanced back, he still was.

I realized then that this could be who I am. Right there, with the cement burning my legs under the middle school jeans I’d cut off this morning, short enough that they would pass the longer-than-your-fingertips test only if I shrugged up my shoulders, and May’s silver-white shirt that shimmered in the light.

It was as if an invisible band started playing the sound track to a new life. I heard you. I wondered if this was how May felt when she was in high school. It must have been, because it was her music. All the songs we’d listened to together, playing at once. The world she’d disappeared into was here. I looked up from my blush, away from Sky, whose eyes were still on me, and turned to Natalie and Hannah. I laughed out loud, full of the secret someone I could become. Hello, hello, hello.

Yours,

Laurel




Dear Kurt,

May’s clothes must have worked like magic, because since I started wearing them, things have been happening. I sat with Natalie and Hannah at lunch all week. Then today, Friday, I was walking down the hallway to Bio, just making my feet follow the lines of light on the floor. Suddenly I looked up, because I was about to bump into someone. It was him. Sky. I could have reached out and touched him.

He said, “Hey. What’s up?” His voice sounded like gravel turning to grains of sugar.

I started thinking of how to answer. I know that “What’s up?” is just something people say, but it’s a very hard thing to say anything back to. It’s like the only response is “nothing.” I didn’t want to say “nothing” because, actually, a lot was up.

Instead I said, “I saw you the other day.” Each word felt like its own stone, falling to the bottom of a lake.

He nodded, his head tilted a little. Like he was trying to figure out what I was.

“I’m Laurel,” I added.

“Sky.” He smiled.

I was about to say I know, but thought better of it. When my eyes finally focused, I saw he was wearing a Nirvana tee shirt. This seemed perfect. So I said, “I love Kurt Cobain.”

“Yeah? What’s your favorite album?”

“In Utero.”

“Right on. Everyone says Nevermind. That is, everyone who doesn’t really listen.”

I smiled and scrambled in my head to keep the conversation going. “Yeah. I really like how he’s … how Kurt sounds like, like he’s exploding from inside.” I couldn’t actually believe I said that.

But Sky nodded, like he knew what I was talking about. And that’s when I suddenly realized that he was looking at me like he wanted to touch me. I tugged on May’s tight orange shirt. My skin was burning. I had to get away before I broke out in flame.

“I’m just going to Bio.”

“’K,” Sky said. “Maybe I’ll see you around.”

I nodded and walked away, my heart pounding. I told myself not to turn around. But I did. And his eyes were still on me. I felt something spark—the mystery of what he saw when he looked at me.

In class, while Mr. Smith was talking about covalent bonding, I kept replaying it and noticing new things each time. Like the way one of Sky’s sleeves was a little bit turned up over his arm. How the hairs on his biceps were standing up. The freckle on his eyelid. I thought of what Hannah had said, about how he transferred here. I wondered from where, and I wondered if he’d ever been in love before.