Freakboy by Kristin Elizabeth Clark Page A

online gaming.
    I start to think
    it’s all I want to do,
    that Larissa is all I want to be.
    The last weekend of Christmas break
    is the perfect time to laze at home
    pretending to be sick,
    not stirring.
    It’s just better this way.
    Except that
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â I miss Vanessa.

Final Day of Winter Recess
    I leave the house,
    drop an envelope in the mail,
    show up to practice
    tell everyone I got better,
    promise Vanessa
    we’ll hang.
    But during conditioning
    that word gets loud and
    something twists in me.
    I duck out of the gym
    catch a bus for home
    stand under the showerhead,
    let guy stink
    go
    down
    the
    drain.
    She has to be pissed
    I didn’t tell her goodbye.
    I just don’t know
    what to say to her.
    Of course I love you.
    Sorry I’m distant.
    No, I’m not mad
    just don’t feel well.
    Not sorry we made love.
    Can’t go out tonight.
    Family dinner.
    And that will be it.
    There’s no explaining
    some things.
    Others just have a sucky explanation.

(Angel)
    Gorgeous Sunday
    and I’m singin’ at church like
    music brings me closer to God.
    When I was little,
    Mama always took us to Mass.
    The Sperm Donor
    wasn’t big on worship,
    so he stayed home.
    Sometimes if Frankie fussed
    she’d take him
    into the cry room
    at the back of the chapel,
    leave me alone in the hard pew
    with wintergreen Life Savers.
    I spent my time looking
    at the stained glass window
    of the Three Kings,
    wishing I could wear
    their dresses,
    the colors were
    so gorgeous,
    so rich.
    Later on,
    I really
    started listening
    and realized that
    even if
    I liked church,
    with its soaring music
    and beautiful art,
    church didn’t like people like me.
    After Mama’s funeral
    we just stopped going and
    I sure as hell didn’t miss it
    until …

Three Years Ago
    after a sadistic-pervert john
    landed me in the hospital
    Social Services got in touch
    with the Sperm Donor.
    He wouldn’t take me back.
    (I wouldn’t of gone with him anyways.)
    Got a social worker named Pat
    who placed me with my foster mom.
    Praise be to Jesus.
    Girl, Veronica was homely.
    Fashion? Forget about it!
    It didn’t matter, though.
    Her heart was beautiful
    and big enough
    to take in kids like me.
    She cleaned me up
    brought tea, protein shakes
    while my jaw was
    still wired shut.
    Big Macs when it healed.
    She read books out loud
    when the headaches
    were too bad for me
    to keep my eyes open.
    Told me how smart I was,
    how beautiful.
    How valuable
    my life to God.
    I lived with her almost two years,
    kids came and went,
    bouncing around in the system.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â (And I know now
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â how blessed I truly was
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â after hearing stories
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â from the ones who didn’t get
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â a Veronica in their life
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â soon enough.)
    But I didn’t have
    anywhere to bounce
    and she said me and her
    were a good fit.
    When I healed enough
    to get around
    she invited me to her church,
    said it was up to me though.
    So I waited
    and then waited
    some more.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â (Till I was bored out of my brain.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â And we were used to each other.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â And I was feeling bad ’cause
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â I stayed out late one night.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â And didn’t call
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â â€™cause it’s hard
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â to live with house rules
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â when you been on your own.
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â And she cried when I finally
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â did get home ’cause she