MY CALEB
I walked into the school for the first time; my home for the next four years.  Dying to make a good impression, yet trying not to care what people think, I made an effort to look nonchalant.  People looked me up and down as I walked down the halls.  I was dressed all in black and my dark curls billowed down to my shoulders.  A few feet away a group of sophomore girls glanced at me and giggled.  I tucked a curl behind my ear and kept walking.  Just ignore it, I thought.  Don’t let it get to you…
Half way to first period I was greeted with the same winning smile I saw the last day of eighth grade.
“Claire!” he shouted.
“Hey, Caleb!”  Caleb Scott.  My best friend… guy friend, that is.  While I noticed his light brown hair gelled up into spikes in the front, a different haircut than he had three months ago, we walked over and hugged each other.  I realized that instead of hugging his shoulders I was now hugging something closer to midway down his back.
“You’re taller!”
“That’s what puberty will do to you,” he said with a smirk.
My heart beat faster, but I didn’t let it show.  His height and hair may have changed, but what hadn’t were his hypnotizing blue eyes and bright smile that made my stomach turn.
“Of course,” I laughed, “now I don’t have to bend down when I hug you!”
“Now let’s not get too cocky...” he said defensively.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t remember!” I said laughing.  “Last I knew I was 5’ 6” and you were 5’ 5’, sir.”
“Well, I am pleased to inform you that I am now a whopping 5’ 8”… and still growing!” he said with a triumphant smile.  He stood up straighter and lifted his chest.  “AND I’m filling out.  Did you notice?”
Yes.
I saw another figure walking towards us.
“Sammy!”
“Claire!  Caleb!”  Samantha Bennett, my best girl friend, ran towards us with a huge grin on her face.  She was excited to see both of us⎯the truth of the matter was that we’d had a sleepover two nights ago, but two days was forever when it came to Sammy and me.
“Sammy!” shouted Caleb.  He’d been the one at sleepaway camp for the summer… something I’d been quite upset about.  “Sammy girl, how was your summer?!”
“It was pretty good, pretty boring without you!”
“Oh, I see, I’m pretty boring?” I said with a teasing smile.
“Well maybe if you hadn’t insisted on writing to this one all summer,” she said, gesturing to Caleb.
“Oh, right… sorry about that, Claire.  I spent a lot of time writing to Becky… I wanted to write you back, but I kept forgetting…”
My heart sank.  Becky… why Becky?  What does she have that I don’t have?  I  changed the subject.
“Hey!” I said to Sammy with a laugh, “I spent lots of time with you!”
And, hitting both of them with my assignment pad as they laughed at me, we went off to first period.  We had been lucky enough to have almost identical schedules two years in a row… maybe if he wasn’t in so many of my classes I would have paid more attention.

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        I got off the bus and searched through my backpack for my key.  After unlocking the door, hanging up my black sweater, and greeting my cat with a quick pat, I walked into the kitchen.
“Mom?” I shouted.  No answer.  “Mom…”
I walked toward the counter where there was a slip of carelessly ripped paper with a few words scrawled on it:

            At work.  Dinner in microwave.  Love you.


Of course.  Audrey Jameson worked three jobs: one as a veterinarian’s assistant at the Greene County Animal Hospital, one as a waitress at the Hogan’s nearby, and one as a tutor for middle and high school students.  These kept her busy most of the time.  Not getting to see her much bothered me more when I was younger, and when I complained she used to say, “If you can grow a money tree, Claire, then you can get me as many days off from work as you please.”      

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       Agerville, New York is the definition of a small town.  I know that New York is thought of as a state full of bustling big cities, but believe it or not, upstate is pretty rural.  We have cows, farms, everyone knows who everyone is... every small town stereotype you can think of, we have… minus the southern accents.  So, as you can imagine, going into my house alone did not last very long.  Even when I turned 15, I still didn’t get much privacy from my neighbors.  Not five minutes after I read the note, Alma Peterson, my elderly neighbor, knocked on the door.
“Oh, Claire, how beautiful you look!  If only you would add some color to that outfit…”  she said as she hurried through the door and put a pan of something smelling of cinnamon on the counter.
“Hi, Alma.” I said.  “What’s that?”
“I made you a batch of my homemade cinnamon sugar cookies!  I knew your mom would be working late tonight so I thought I’d stop by and give you something to cheer you up.”  She removed the foil from the pan.  “Here, try one⎯”
“Er, thanks Alma, but I’ll pass.  I haven’t had dinner yet and I have to get started on my homework.”  The old I’m-so-interested-in-getting-my-grades-up excuse.
“Homework?  On the first day of school?  Oh, alright…” she said, walking away and sounding hurt.  “Enjoy them…” and she closed the door quietly behind her.
I felt bad for pushing her away, but if I didn’t she would hang around here all the time… and how would I ever get to be alone?  I sighed.  Maybe if you weren’t so selfish you could be nice to people… 

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          I was in my room alone, lying on my bed, thinking.  Sometimes I thought about my dad… who was he, anyway?  You don’t remember much from when you’re 3… All I knew was that his name was Gale.  I know, strange name for a guy… appropriate, though, seeing as it means “The Stranger”.  I didn’t think often, because I didn’t like my thoughts… I thought about Caleb, how I will never have a chance, how maybe I should just magically turn into Becky, how I’m too selfish, how my mom is never here, how I should be doing something with my life, how I’m not pretty enough, how I’m not good enough.  I broke down… but no one heard me cry.

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           The next morning I called Sammy.  I would have done it the night before, but she goes to sleep early.  I paced my room as the phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Sammy!”
“Oh, hey, Claire.  What’s up?”
“...I can’t do it anymore.”
“Claire…”
“I don’t know what to do!  How much longer am I supposed to sit here waiting for him… I wrote him letters all summer, and what do I get back?  ‘Thanks for all the letters, Claire.  See you in September.’”
“I know, Claire.  I know.  But you can’t give up… I see the way you look at him.  It makes my stomach turn.  It’s not something that you can control, and it’s not something that you can just let go… hang in there.”
“He’ll never look at me that way… and it’s not just that.  My mom… she’s just not here.  Ever.”
“Claire, she’s just trying to support you…”
“Well maybe she should be supporting me here, at home!  I can’t go through this alone.  I have no one to talk to!”
“I’m here…”
“In person, Sammy.”
“Oh, well⎯”
“And my dad… where is he?  What’s he doing?  What did I do wrong to make him leave?”
“I know these questions have been haunting you, Claire, but it’s not your fault.”
“Sammy, no matter how many times you say that, it’s not true!” I screamed.
There was silence.
“I’m sorry,” she said, sounding a bit hurt.  “Calm down.  Go take your mind off it.”
I hung up.
Calm down?  Calm down.  You try to calm down when your life is falling apart.  I took a deep breath.  On the other side of my small room on my bedside table lay my iPod.  I put on Taylor Swift.

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         I had never thought myself a good singer.  I’d never really tried before.  I mean, sure, I sang along to all the Disney songs when I was little, but no one ever said, “Wow, honey, that’s great!” or “Do you want to be a singer?” or anything like that.  I took piano lessons from when I was six to when I was eleven, but I still didn’t consider myself any good.  I had never before thought of writing songs.   If Taylor can do it, why can’t I? I thought.  I sat down in front of the piano and played what came to mind.  A few chords, a few melody notes, and I couldn’t stop.  I suddenly wasn’t thinking about my mom, my dad, or even Caleb… all I could think of were the sudden lyrics that I hastened to write down.  All I could hear was the sound of the beautiful chords that left miraculously from the piano.  All I could feel was the cold of the keys under my fingers and my voice beginning to loosen up after all these years.  It was the best feeling in the world… I never wanted it to end.

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          School was the same as always.  I saw Caleb and my heart skipped a beat.  We walked together to first period, and when he was speaking to me I was more absorbing the sound of his voice than hearing his endless chatter.  
“Claire, is something wrong?”
Everything is wrong.
“Oh, no, of course not.  Go on.”
He kept talking, I kept listening.  I kept dreaming of him and he kept dreaming of her.   It was normal, but it was torture, and it would never change.  I went home to write a new song about her… about him… about everything.  My best friend… the one who breaks my heart and yet keeps it alive… my Caleb.




Remember, be brutal!


<3madi









                                                                                        


Come on, people, give me some ideas here!


Well, one of my friends has been posting his novel up on his blog for people to comment on... 


Unless there are other suggestions, which I would gladly take, I can go forth and post a short story I wrote up here.


It's not... good... but it's a start, I suppose, and people can be brutal... you know, this sucks, don't quit your day job, things to that effect.  Practice makes perfect, right?


Alrighty... well starting in a few days I'll post it in parts, if that's what y'all would enjoy, if I don't get any other suggestions.


Hope you all are having a nice summer! 


<3madi



My... I haven't posted in a very long time... sorry!


Well, here's a new one for ya!


I just want to say to all those "hopeless" cases out there, don't give up hope.
There will be a time where everything starts to go... right.  And that may sound impossible... believe me, I've been there.  But while you sit there jealous of your friends (don't be ashamed, it comes with the package... you can be jealous and supportive at the same time, been there too ;) ) just think that someday, that will be you.  Don't give up hope.  Because you will find someone someday that loves you for your flaws, and that person will make you happy.  And I KNOW that someone telling you this does nothing.  "Why can't it happen NOW?" you're thinking.  Or, "how do you know?"  Or even, "easy for you to say."
I've thought all those things!  But I'm telling you... when you least expect it, good things will happen.  And then you will come back to this blog post and think, "Wow, Madi, you were right."  And I will think "I told you so." 


<3madi 

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