Labelled by Blood

      I don't remember what happened after that. I was riding the wave that lifted me to the moon. The bell rang at some point and Ms. Burgess had a little chat with me. I confessed that, yeah, Tuesday was a particularly awful day and I blanked on working on the essay and couldn't come up with anything for Wednesday. She said she was thankful she gave me a redo because she knew I was a strong speaker, but I just needed a push and some time.       I left her class and made my way to the school exit. I took it slow, really enjoying the peppy attitude everyone had today. It was Friday. Friday! And Jesse was about to play a big game, and this weekend was wide open to hang out with my two best friends. Mom and Dad were making an effort. Though life wasn't perfect. And the constant threat hung over us like a corrosive cloud that rained acid at the weirdest and worst times. Like when I was headed down the hallway and Toby was sitting outside his mom's classroom, writing away. It brought back the memory I had the day Jesus ambushed me. How I had written poetry just earlier that day. How Toby had reached out to me in an awkward way to connect. And how we both shied away from that.       I didn't need him to be my friend. Far from it, actually. He had his own friends and I really didn't want to expand my friend pool. But I needed him to know I saw him just like how he saw me.       "Hey," I said, slowing down to a halt. He paused and looked up at me. His eyes looked sad. "You writing poetry?"       This perked him up. He smiled and nodded, but didn't show me his work. I dug out my journal and read to him the poem I wrote on labels. Or started writing.       "Huh," he said, holding a hand up to his temple. "It's got a nice structure. The rhyme is unexpected. I think it's got potential."       My heart skipped a beat. Tobias Rohd thought my writing "had a chance." The boy who wrote almost nonstop. The one who helped Ava score an A on her poem.       "Really?" I asked, dumbfounded. "You think so?"       "Mmhmm. It's awkward, but I can tell it's deliberate."       I hugged my notebook and exhaled a smile. He looked at me and then down at his own journal before looking back up at me. "You mind if I share a poem with you?" Before I could answer, he continued. "It's really personal, but I just want your thoughts on it."       I smiled and he read. It was a love poem. A confession of his whole being. It was meant for Ava. It made me blush and I knew he was just practicing. After he finished, he shook his head.       "It's missing something," he said. "Maybe it's just clunky."       I shook my head, "no. She'll love it. I love it and it's not even meant for me."       He rolled his eyes, "sure. I've been working on this for a while, now. I just haven't found the right time to read it to her."       I giggled and shrugged. "You'll find the right time when both of you are ready to hear it aloud."       This got him to smile to himself. Then, Ms. Rohd called out for him from her classroom.       He stood up abruptly. "Oh, sorry. I'm about to meet my friends. Hey, thanks."       "Thank you, too," I said.       He shuffled his feet and scratched at the cover of his journal. Then he looked at me in the eyes. "This is really awkward. But. What was your name, again?"       I smiled politely. "You know what? Don't worry about it."       His shoulders sagged and he sighed. "I know, it's a jerk move, I'm sorry."       I held my smile. "No. Really. I'll see you around."       With a wave, we parted. I made my way down the hall. I really didn't mind that he forgot my name. Because I know who I am. I know who my people are. Toby was a great guy, but he was not part of my circle. Same with the twins. They were some of the coolest people I knew. But I didn't know them. I left out the front of the school and met with Jesse and Parker. They were hanging out with Jesse's football friends and when they saw me, they all gave him a hard time about it.       Jesse's response was priceless. "At least I've got someone to go to the winter dance with."       Most of the guys lost it at this, but a couple of them held firm saying they had dates, too. Jesse, Parker, and I all laughed it off as we made our way to our bus stop. The game wasn't until later. We had a few hours to kill and just wanted some time to be alone with each other and enjoy each other's company. The city was calm. The sun was the only thing in the sky. It was cold, sure, but that only brought the sense of winter in the air. People hustled and bustled on their way home from work, or home from school.       "So," Parker started, "how are you two holding up?"       Jesse scoffed. "Nightmares. TV's ruined for me. So are speakers."       Parker laughed and pushed Jesse, who put him in a headlock. They calmed down and we sat down on the benches at the stop.       "You?" Jesse asked Parker.       He sighed. "It's hard to explain. I'll tell you later. Just know that I'm hanging in there."       Jesse and I shared a nervous glance but didn't push it. Parker was not one to push on these things.       "Lex?" Parker asked me.       "Honestly? Better than I would've thought. I haven't had a dream since a couple of nights ago. Static and scraping sounds get to me, though. And I can't shake the feeling that--"       "We're being watched?" Both the boys asked.       "Right."       "Well," Jesse said, "I'm sure we're just overthinking it."       Parker didn't answer. He looked out into the distance. I had to shake him a bit to get him back.       "Sorry," Parker said.       "Why?" I answered. "Life's not the same for either of us. Don't apologize for being traumatized, man."       He laughed at this, but I could tell that me naming it made him feel better about it.       We made some more small talk and weekend plans talk before Jesse announced he had to go early to run some things by his team and coach. That left Parker and I alone. Parker got out his sketch book and started drawing the landscape around us. He did a great job with the details, I was impressed.       I got out my poetry journal and thumbed it. "Hey," I said.       "Hm?"       "Can I share another poem with you?"       "When you're famous around the world, people are going to be begging you to share your poems. I'll be one of those people."       With a jagged smile, I opened up my journal and read him the labels poem.       "Wow. I really like that one. It feels like you poured your heart and soul into it."       "Right. Because I did."       "Poetry is best when the author isn't afraid of being real with their audience. Kind of like with art."       "Yeah. I think so, too."       "You going to start submitting your poems to magazines?"       "What?"       "I think you could."       "No way."       "Lex. C'mon. You won't get anywhere unless you push yourself. And you've been doing a lot of that lately. Why stop now?"       "Right."       "Right."       That was the end of that conversation. I know he was only being harsh to make me see what he meant, but the idea of publishing my work made me paralyzed with fear. We worked on our own things for a while before Parker told me we had to get going if we wanted to make it to Jesse's game in time. We headed out and made it pretty early, but everyone else had the same idea we did. The place was packed and the line for entry was already huge. We hopped in line and waited our turn. I kept hearing people whispering and pointing at me. A group of girls even approached me and asked if I was Jesse's girlfriend.       "Partner," I corrected them.       "Oh," they giggled, "well, you're really pretty!" one of them said.       This made me do a doubletake. No one, except Jesse and, in a way, Parker, have ever called me pretty before. No one's noticed me like this before.       "O-oh. Thank you. You're all really pretty, too."       Parker joined in and tried to flirt with one of the girls. They played his advances off and he did, too. He took everything in stride, somehow.       "That was weird," I said.       "What was?" Parker asked.       "That. Being approached and called pretty."       "Get used to it," Parker said.       "Why? It's never happened before."       "Yeah. But now Jesse's really public about everything. And you've been walking with a lot more confidence. People tend to find that attractive."       "Huh."       I sat with what he said. The line moved. We got in, just like Jesse said. I got a few compliments on my dress, even from a few guys. It made me walk with even more confidence. Maybe Parker was right.       "Man," Parker said as we got to our seats, "these suck."       I laughed and playfully pushed him. "They're alright."       "It's what we got. Hey, Imma grab some food. You want anything?"       I handed him my twenty and he squeezed past body after body. The audience was buzzing with chatter and the cheerleaders were getting started. A roar of applause, whistling, and cheers came from the audience. I clapped when they did. The cheer routine was fun, and then the team poured out. Jesse was saved for last and a deafening hype train boomed from the audience. This time, I didn't hold back. I screamed until my vocal chords hurt. I don't think Jesse heard me over the rest of the crowd, but I saw him looking for me.       I waved at him and he eventually threw me a wink and a heart. This got the crowd going and a few random kids teased me about it. I didn't care. I smiled and laughed and cheered.       Parker was going to miss the kickoff, but he was also here mainly to cheer Jesse on. This wasn't his kind of scene. It wasn't mine either. Though it might be, now. The energy was contagious and I couldn't help but feed into it. I cheered with the cheer squad, chanted with the audience, booed the opposing team when they did. I wasn't a nobody here. I was just invisible. Watching the main stars take it away. But knowing that I was making even the smallest difference to the star player made my heart soar.       There was a coin flip and our team won. Jesse made a hand signal I recognized. The enemy team had the ball and did the kickoff to our team. I was chanting Jesse's name, and for a brief moment he looked my way.       I was excited. I was alive. I was Alex Linnet.