Lilac

This was the point in the movie when Neil Perry decided to kill himself. His entire plot line, perfect smile, his eyes, so bright and full of life, the character itself was only made so that his life could end just like that. Everything in the film lead up to this very moment, the moment when Neil lost all hope. He had finally found his passion for acting, and had scored his first leading role. Not to mention his amazing group of friends, and irreplaceable English teacher; just so it could be taken all away from him. In the argument he had with his father leading up to his death, he asks Neil, “What do you want?” (Everyone know that he doesn’t truly care, and Neil obviously knows this too.) At this point, Neil is so filled to the brim with anger that it comes as a shock when he simply smiles and says, “Nothing.” His very last word.

How…. poetic.

To be honest, if I was Neil Perry, I would probably want to kill myself too. But, fortunately, I’m not Neil Perry. And as much as this seems like it’s going to turn into a five-paragraph essay for my english class about Dead Poets Society, it’s not. My name is Adeline Bacallao, and this is a 60-something paragraph essay about my unfortunate, Neil Perry-esque dilemma.

It is June 18th, 1994. I am 15 years old. I live in South Pasadena, California. Everyone is still mourning the death of Kurt Cobain. Tonya Harding and her hick husband attacked Nancy Kerrigan. Another earthquake just hit us. Basketball apparently isn’t happening anymore because they want more money or less racism or whatever. My little sister is downstairs, singing the genie song from Aladdin for the hundreth time this morning, and I am packing my bags, listening to Green Day, and hating my life.

I’ll start from the beginning. Yesterday, to be exact. It was my last day of sophomore year in the hellhole known as inner-city public school. But, more importantly, the day that my senior friends finally graduated. To celebrate, we went to our usual hangout, Long Beach. We had a fun time shopping, swimming, and just walking around; that is until Tucker took out his favorite combination: cigarettes and vodka. Who was I to refuse? I looked to my brother, Junipero, knowing that all I would see was his sly eyes of disappointment. I tried to tell him that it wasn’t a big deal, but we both knew that that was not true.

Three hours later, I found myself stumbling down the boardwalk, laughing until I cry at….nothing in particular. We strolled around, barely even taking notice of the unusually large amount of police presence in the area. It was around eight o’clock when we decided it was a good idea to sneak into one of those silly, over expensive, tourist stores and try to steal something. My flip flops squeaked and squawked as we walked inside, already boosting my nerves. I quickly targeted a pair of sunglasses that I slipped inside of my pocket. Juney stayed outside and played lookout, his jaw clenching tighter every second, as he constantly turned his head to make sure there were no cops nearby. I grabbed for a snow globe with limp hands, knowing it was a mistake before it even clattered to the ground.

“Young lady, you’ll have to pay for that,” an angry, wrinkly old man says from behind the counter. I look up at my friends to wait for their responses, but it seemed as if they’re pretending that they didn’t know me.

“I…. uh… I’m sorry….” I stumble over my words and feel my palms start to sweat.

I made eye contact with Junipero, and did the only thing that I could think of: run.

Of course, seeing that I couldn’t even walk straight, I quickly decided that running wasn’t the best idea. But it was too late for that, because there was already two big, white policemen pinning me to the ground, one with unnecessary force, and as I looked around from my nice spot laying in the sand, I saw that my friends were already gone. I was left with Junipero by my side, a frailer Latino police officer pulling him by the arms as well. I don’t even attemt to resist as they pushed me inside the cruiser and sped away.

“Adeline Bacallao, age 15, you were taken in today because of a blood-alcohol percentage of 0.17%, which, by the way, is two times more than what one needs for a DUI, and for the attempted robbery of a local vendor. And I can see here that this is not your first time.”

“Yes. I admit. To everything. I bought the alcohol, it was my idea to shoplift, they were my own bad decisions. May I please call my parents now?” All I can say is, it was a long day. Admitting to everything was the best thing to do, because I don’t want my friends to get in trouble like they have so many times before. After all, they’ve just graduated, and, honestly, they really are in need of a clear slate. I’ll be able to wait a couple years to clear mine. I know that they would all do the same for me.

But I knew that it wouldn’t go over well with my parents. With my record and my grades I would’ve been thankful if they didn’t ground me for the rest of the summer. Little did I know, something much, much worse was coming.

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“Adeline Valeria Bacallao, do you even know what kind of trouble you could have gotten into tonight?” The veins in my father’s head look just about ready to burst.

“OJ could’ve taken you captive! You could be dead right now and we would not even know! All we see on the news is, ‘15 year old, unidentified, Hispanic female taken hostage by OJ.’ and we would sit and pray to God that it was not you!” The angrier he becomes, the worse his english becomes.

“Papa, OJ wasn’t even near Long Beach! He was in LA! You are just trying to avoid the real topic of why I’m in trouble in the first place!” I don’t think I’ve ever even seen him this angry before, perhaps only when our dog was run over by a--to this day--unknown driver when I was nine.

“Adeline, Juney, your father and I have come to, may I say, risky-” she looks towards Papa, who is wiping the sweat off his brow in quite a fuss “-decision. I know this is going to be very hard for both of you, but I think it’s for the best.” Juney glances towards me, but I am staring off into space. This is always the worst part. But soon my mother will ‘forget’ about their decision, and Papa will be too busy to notice, and I’ll be able to return back to my normal teenage life.

“Niños, based on both of your behavior over the past few months, we came to the conclusion that maybe a….change in the environment might be of need,” This time it’s me who shoots a glance at my brother, because 1.) Junipero has never done anything wrong, since the day he was born, and 2.) I had no idea what Papa meant by a ‘change in the environment’, but I that when he said something, he meant it.

“Now, this is going to be hard for all of us, but at this point, it is necessary. I cannot even count the amount of times you have disrespected and disappointed us, our family name, and your teachers.” At this, he turns to us, leans and leans in, making sure that we understand him. His face becomes soft and vulnerable, but, with no regret, he says,

“You will be staying with your grandmother in Massachusetts for the next year.”

103 days before

So that brings me here in my room, packing my bags and trying not to think too much. I’ve emailed all of my friends to tell them about my situation, and my new address, but I doubt that I’ll see any of them within the next year. My parents and little sister are coming to visit at Christmas, but other than that, we won’t be seeing them at all. I honestly could not care less. Sure, I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life, but I don’t deserve this. There’s no way I’ll be able to change their minds, so I pack up my final things and hop in the car. Maybe this will be the start of something new.

102 days before

The empty fields and busy roads of Massachusetts are not at all what I remember. I’ve only ever been to my Grandma’s twice; the last time was when I was 10. I don’t understand how my parents expect me to move in with a random woman just because she’s my ‘mother’s mother’, and ‘at this point you’re lucky we’re not sending you off to boarding school’.

My uncle picked us up from the airport in Boston, where I really wanted to go shopping, but I kept my mouth shut for the sake of my brother. I’ve never seen him act this way before, especially towards me. I know that once we get to Danvers and settle in that we’ll be able to sort things out. For now, I accept the fact that this is ‘all my fault’ until he tells me why he was really sent here with me.

But, what worries me the most about this little, insignificant, Yankee town is, of course, the social structure. Obviously, I was quite popular back in California. My parents and brother often told me that my friends were ‘fake’, but it doesn’t matter to me what they say. I had everything I wanted, and that’s exactly what I plan on getting here, too. With no parents and a fresh start, anything is possible.

96 days before

I think unpacking was the worst part of my first days. My grandmother is actually a very sweet, mostly sane old woman, and definitely a lot more tolerable than my abuelita. But, at home, I am constantly surrounded by noise, whether it’s Mariana, my sister, singing tone-deaf in the kitchen, Junipero playing basketball with the neighborhood kids, or Papa playing guitar in the sunroom, my alone time was very limited. And now it’s just Junipero, our old, French grandmother, her little dog, and me. I try to spend as much time as I can in my new room, because it’s where I’m most alone, and it makes me proud to know that is not what my parents wanted. But then I look at my bags, and I’m reminded of the noise, of my parents, and the rather dysfunctional, but tight-knit family that we had. And I wonder if they miss me. If they regret what they did.

53 days before

Days and weeks go by, and soon enough, it’s almost school time. And Juney has started talking to me again. Throughout the two months I’ve passed here, I’ve made two new friends: Elliot, who likes to bird watch, listens to Simon and Garfunkel, and definitely writes poetry in his spare time; and Indiana, whose parents thought she was going to be a boy and inexplicably named her after Indiana Jones. And of course the girl who works behind the counter at the record store downtown, if that counts. But anyways, Elliot, Indiana, and I have made a pact to stick through this year together, no matter how many silicone girls get in our way. According to my lovely new friends, I ‘don’t have what it takes’ to be popular around here, and have too much of a ‘West coast vibe to be cool’ unless, of course that’s what’s ‘in this year’.

At this point, popularity is one of the last things on my mind. Being with such genuine, amazing people, who aren’t friends with me just because I know some drug dealers, is quite refreshing. It’s only been a little over two months, and I barely even think about my old life now. The only person I really think about, other than my family, is my boyfriend, Ryan. I used to miss him a lot, his smile and his stale cigarette kiss. That was, until, a friend wrote me saying he’s with another girl. Elliot says  I should call and dump him, but I say he’s not even worth it if he’s not going to call me first. At least I have all of his flannels that I brought with me. He’s never going to get a single one of those back.

28 days before

Todd Anderson of Dead Poets Society didn’t know what to expect when first entering Welton Academy. His brother, and his father before him had both gone there, so he obviously had to keep up the good rep. But what was there for him? How did he have any idea what he was going into, especially being the introverted person that he was?

But, he powered through it anyways.

That is exactly what I felt like when first entering the halls of Danvers Public High School. I was better off than Todd was, though. At least I had two good friends, and the basic shakedown of the school that I had gotten from them. Yet it was still so scary walking down those unfamiliar halls. Back in California, I was never confronted with something new. By eighth grade, everyone knew who was in which clique, and everyone stayed there, the only exception being new kids. I guess I was one of those.

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“So, new girl, what’s your deal?” the girl from the record store takes a seat next to me in French class.

“Oh, um, well…” no one had actually ever asked me about this before. Not even Elliot and Indiana. “My brother and I came here for the year to stay with our abue-- I mean, grandmother while our parents are working on a…. Very important case. They can’t be around other people. Not even each other I guess.” A small lie. But what was I supposed to tell her, Oh yeah I got in a mess of trouble with my older sketchy drug friends and was basically sent here on probation? No, this will do for now.

And she seemed to like it, “Woah, dude, that’s so cool! I wish there was something actually interesting going on in my life… who’s your grandmother?”

“Oh, Susan Bernard. The really French one?”

“Yeah, I know the lady! She’s so sweet, she comes into the store sometimes, as do you…. what’s your name?”

And, of course, Mr. Thomas, turns around and begins class. I pass a note, though. It comes back to me, scrawled in not-so-graceful handwriting.

I’m Claira. Pretty boring name, I know. Are you up to hang out when school gets out? Meet me at the store.

I smile and nod at her to show my approval. Fifth period is most-definitely the highlight of my day.

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Elliot and Indiana whine at me as I pull them towards downtown. “Noooooooo! Claira is alternative. We cannot mix with her. Are you seriously breaking our pact on the first day of school?”

“Indie, chill out, I’m not ‘breaking’ anything. I’m not leaving this group, and Claira invited me to come hang out with her, and I ever so graciously invited the two of you.”

That gets me an eye roll from both of them. “Okay, Addy, we know that you were Ms. Popular-whatever-the-hell in Cali, but you’re here with us now, and you must follow the social pyramid. And we do not rest in the same section as Claira. Got it?”

“Well whoever made said pyramid? And who says you can’t climb through it with your friends? Listen, last year I was at the top, and this year I’m at- well I don’t even know where we’re at! But I say we just make it a one-dimensional circle… no, a pool! Anyone can swim wherever they want to.”

“Man, if it was a pool we would be the toddlers with those little life-preservers in the shallow end, and Claira would be in the deep end with the adults, an-”

“Yeah, but she would be in, like, the corner with the biker moms with tattoos all up their arms.” Indie cuts into Elliot’s rant.

“Guys, I’m done with this argument. I’m going to hang out with Claira whether you guys are coming or not. And besides, look, we’re already here!”

I start to walk through the door, and before the little bell above the door can even ring, signifying my entry, the both of them pull me back out. “Adeline, you know, you really are a great friend, I don’t want you to end up hanging out with… her.”

At this point, I’m getting pretty pissed off. “Okay, Indie, so what’s the real reason you don’t want me hanging out with her? Why is she ‘popular’ but not extreme ‘popular’? She’s pretty, she’s funny, she’s sweet, she has an amazing personality, not to mention her taste in musi-”

“Addy…. she’s gay!.” Indie looks at me with a concerned expression. Her fingers rest in her mouth, as she chomps on her nails, and I can feel the waves of anxiety coming off of her.

“Well, that’s at least what people say. Apparently she had a thing with some girl a couple of towns over last year. Steven Gray says he caught them kissing in the sophomore lot back in March.”

“That’s why she’s… estranged from all those people she used to identify with. She’s alternative, obviously, but she used to be at the top of the chain.”

It takes a minute for everything to sink in. I don’t care, at all, really, but it didn’t make sense to me that my friends were creeped out about it. I knew a guy back in California who was openly gay, and sure, he got comments in the hall, and the occasional fist fight, but it was generally accepted by most. Elliot and Indie were the last people I’d think to be like that.

“So… why is that a problem?”

They exchange a worried glance and then turn back to me. “We don’t have a problem with it, it’s just, we’re worried….”

“I think she’s into you.” Elliot finally let’s those words come out of his mouth. “And…. we’re just concerned for you.” he gives me the most sincere, but the most fake face that I’ve ever seen. My response is to simply turn around and walk swiftly through the door, but I turn to see that Claira is standing right there with the door already opened. We were so caught up in our conversation that none of us had noticed. How much had she heard?

I try to play it off as if it’s nothing, and give her a hug.

“Hey, Elliot, Indiana, cool of you guys to come along!” Claira smiles brightly and gestures for us to come in. At that, I notice all of the beautiful rings on her fingers. A big, golden ring with a bear, one with a beautiful woman carved into the silver, and another copper with Roman numerals. There is the same amount on the other hand, but I can’t see them.

“So, how was your first official day at Danvers?”

“Oh, it actually went pretty well, thanks for asking,” I turn to Elliot and Indie, who had not even mentioned school except for their complaints about the new, apparently annoying, gym teacher, “It’s really different from Cali, but I’m getting through it. It’s nice to already have two good friends,” I turn to her and smile, “And it looks like I’m already making new ones!” The rest of the day fades into laughter and silly stories about my friends’ past experiences at Danvers, and my crazy life in California. I almost immediately forget what Elliot and Indie had told me before going into the record store, but as I watch Claira walk home that night, her bleach-blonde hair blowing in the wind, I start to think that I might feel the same way about her.

20 days before

I’ve started to miss my family more and more as the weeks go on, and I think about how Papa used to make me breakfast every morning. I always woke up to the smell of fresh coffee and homemade omelettes, filling my nose as I rose from my bed. I also started to realize that I am missing my old friends less and less. I don’t even care about Ryan anymore, and I’m honestly very happy that I’ve found the people that I have now. I’m just lucky that I’m not a shy, insecure person like Todd Anderson was. Danvers would absolutely suck.

I’ve found myself hanging out with either Elliot, Indie, Claira, or Juney everyday, yet I still get my homework done, which is very different from last year. School started almost three weeks ago now, and the buzz about Homecoming is starting to go through school. I know that I would get constant bullying if I asked Claira, so for now I’m most likely going with Sean, the kid who sits next to me in math class. New England has such weird morals.

1 day before

“Claira, what do all of your rings mean?” I ask, taking her hands in mine to examine them, and she looks up at me, surprised as I do.

“Oh, well, one time, this lady who always used to hang out downtown with a bottle of whiskey in her hand, told me that my spirit animal was a bear. Although it was probably just a random comment from a drunk old widow, I always remember it. So then, that same day, I found this at a little antique store down the road, and it spoke to me,” her blue eyes glitter as she tells me the story, but then she begins to shrink into herself, “It’s pretty stupid, I know…”

“No, no, no, it’s not stupid! That’s a really nice story actually!” I take her hands into mine again. “You don’t have to tell me the rest if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah…” she looks off, distracted from our conversation.

An hour later, we’re laying in my Grandmother’s yard, watching the clouds as they float by. I turn to her, “Hey… are all the things that people say about you true? You know, about how you’re… gay and stuff?”

I see her  stiffen as I say it. “Don’t listen to what everybody says, but.. Yes. Yeah, yeah I am.” she smiles, nervously, and looks up at me. “I’m sorry, I just- I haven’t told many people.”

“That’s okay! I’m totally cool with that, I just wanted to know. ‘Cause...you’re my friend and all.”

“I’ve gotta go.” She leaves our little cloud gazing session, and in that moment, I am so filled with regret. I wanted to take her hands, covered in the rings that meant so much to her, and look into her oceanic, bright blue eyes, and kiss her. And tell her how I felt. All that I want is to look at her. To bask in the sun and in her beauty. But I knew that I couldn’t.

So I simply said goodbye, and watched her walk away, until she was out of view.

the day

Dances, dances, dances. I’ve always found them pretty stupid, but I guess it’s one way to let teenagers get all of their hormones out in a safe environment. Sean picked me up at 8 after the game.  I told him the other day when I asked him that we were strictly friends, and that there will be no hands except for friendly dancing, but he seemed to forget that part of our conversation.

I danced with him, had a fun time with my friends, and stared longingly at Claira the whole time, who seemed to switch between me and her other friends every twenty minutes or so. We had a ‘friendly’ dance together, where she asked me to walk her home from the school, to which, of course, I agreed. I caught a glimpse of my brother and his new friends, but he didn’t approach me. I guess he’s just thankful that he finally ‘fits in’. Yeah, you’re welcome Junipero.

When it came time to go, I waited outside for Claira, going over different, possible conversation topics in my head.

Most of our walk was lighthearted conversation about our friends and equal hate of the French teacher, and I couldn’t help but keep looking at her. She was wearing a simple, lilac, ‘skater’ dress, with, of course, battered and beaten black high tops.

When we arrived at her house, we stopped at the walkway. She turned to me. “Thanks for walking me home...I had a really great night.”

“Yeah, I think I’m actually starting to warm up to this insignificant little suburb.” I smile and look up at her. She is smiling, too. Her beautiful, true smile. “It especially helps to have a great person like you here.”

This was my moment. Now or never. It’s like Neil’s decision to die, except, like, the complete opposite.

All at once, I become as passionate as Neil, as romantic as Charlie, as daring as Knox, as intelligent as Meeks, and as joyous as Pitts. There’s a small Todd in the back of my mind, telling me to hold back.

But even he had to come out of his shell at some point.

So I do what I’ve always wanted to do. I take her hands in mine, I look into her endless eyes, and I kiss her. And I forget about my parents. I forget about California, and Junipero, and my grandmother, my old friends and the new. I forget about Dead Poets Society, I forget about Ryan, I forget about school, and I let the rest of the world fade away.

I think about Claira. I think about her pale, smooth, perfect skin, the rings on her fingers, especially the bear. I think of her bleach blonde hair and daydream eyes, of her soft lips touching mine. Her old vinyls and her stunning dress, and I’ve decided that lilac is my favorite color.