The Fragile Ordinary

Sensing my fear and confusion Dad strode toward me and placed a comforting hand on my shoulder. “You’ve got time to think about the future, Comet.”

I drew in a shaky breath and did something I would never have imagined doing a year ago. “Will you come with me to Pan? It’s my first open mic. I... I’d like you to hear my poem.”

His response was a huge smile. “I’d love that.”

* * *

I was crushed.

Pan was crowded tonight with regular patrons and people who rarely, if ever, frequented the place. There were older people here, some obviously parents, and of course a lot of under eighteens. The café was busier than I’d ever seen it, and yet the person I most wanted there wasn’t anywhere to be seen.

My dad stood with Vicki, Mr. Stone and Mrs. Cruickshank. Steph couldn’t make it because she had a date with a college boy she’d met at the swim center last week. However, my one constant—Vicki—was with me. She’d convinced me to tell Mr. Stone about the open mic night and like my dad, his response had been immediate and positive. As for Mrs. Cruickshank, my dad and I had passed her on the esplanade on our way to Pan. She’d been surprised to see us together, and Dad had encouraged me to invite her along. The way she just spun around and started walking with us in response had made me want to cry grateful tears.

I had people here who loved and supported me, and as amazing as that felt, it still hurt not to have Tobias there.

“You’ve gone paler than normal,” Vicki said, looking concerned. “You okay?”

No, I wasn’t. I was next up on the stage, and the person who made me brave wasn’t here to cheer me on. I said so.

“We talked about this.” Vicki squeezed my hand. “Only you can be brave. Tobias hasn’t got that power. He’s not here? Well, screw him. His loss, Comet. You—” she smiled sweetly at me “—are one of my favorite people in the whole world and if he can’t see how special you are, then it’s his loss. Do this for you, Com. For all the people who made you feel like you weren’t worthy of them.”

I thought of my dad, who seemed to be doing his hardest to make up for it and who’d flinched at Vicki’s words, and of Carrie, whom I hadn’t heard from at all since she’d left except through secondhand conversations she’d had with my dad, of my primary six teacher who’d traumatized me and made me hate school, of Heather who’d bullied me out of envy, of Stevie, Alana, Jimmy, Forrester and their group for bullying me because it made them feel in control to be the tormentors instead of the tormented for a change, and even of Tobias, who’d made me feel alone when I needed him the most.

But despite that, Tobias had changed my life for the better. I had changed.

“She’s right,” Dad said. “Do this for you, Comet.”

And even though I wanted to throw up, I nodded, and heard all of their good lucks at my back as I took the steps one shaky upward movement at a time and approached the mic. I let go of a small exhale and the mic crackled. Unable to look at the faces staring up at me, I looked down at the poem in my hand instead.

“My name is Comet Caldwell,” I said, wincing slightly at the way my voice echoed around the room. “I’m seventeen and...this is my poem.

“Before you

Real life was a blurred Monet,

Dripping Tuesday’s pale blue

Into Wednesday’s dull gray;

All color muted to a lesser hue.

It was hot chocolate gone tepid,

And a winter with no snow.

Sea air somehow turned fetid,

Favorite shoes you outgrow.

Before you,

Real life was without magic,

No acts of heroism in sight.

Just girl, not savior, not telepathic,

No fight of dark against light.

There were no wizards or warlocks,

Angels and demons didn’t exist.

Its only charm was in its boardwalks,

Where sand and sea always kissed.

Before you,

I preferred the dreams I could buy;

A plethora of worlds to explore.

Lose myself in the beauty of a lie,

Have friends who never keep score.

Where there’s truth in true romance,

And uncool shy girls become heroes.

Where days are filled with thrilling happenstance,

And people have answers nobody here does.

Before you,

I judged without truly knowing,

Let people slip through my hands.

Saw someone flashy and outgoing,

And determined they’d never understand.

You made me see everyone’s layers,

All their secrets and fears.

Proving we’re all merely players,

Who smile through our tears.

Before you,

I believed real, true, glorious living

Was in adventure, was in the extraordinary.

But I’ve learned that time is not so forgiving,

And the real beauty of life is in the fragile ordinary.”

There was a hush in the air when I was finished and I was afraid to look up. But then someone started to clap and then someone else, until it was loud and warm and pushing up against me, forcing my eyes upward.

“Go, Comet!” I heard Mrs. Cruickshank shout, and watched as my dad and Mr. Stone beamed proudly up at me as they clapped their hands together high and hard. Vicki appeared as stunned as I felt as she clapped.

Strangers grinned and whistled and put their hands together in appreciation for me, and I was so shocked that I almost missed him in the crowd.

Tobias.

Hope flooded upward from the shuttered depths of me. All the hope I’d tried to keep buried inside, because hope had hurt me so much in the past. But I’d come to discover that hope was an uncontrollable creature, and it danced through me now, seeing Tobias here.

I stumbled off the stage, accepting praise, stunned, bewildered even, as I tried to make my way toward Tobias. Suddenly my path was blocked by the tall, rangy body of the owner of Pan. He was an older guy, perhaps in his midforties, with a strawberry blond beard and hair he wore up in a man bun. In the past he’d only ever smiled at me and made me a hot chocolate.

“Comet, right?” He held out his hand to me. “I’m Joe, Comet. I hope you start coming around to read more of your poetry to us, rather than sitting all the way in the back with a hot chocolate.”

Surprised but delighted that he knew who I was, I blushed. “Sure.”

“Good. I look forward to it. I enjoyed what you had to say up there. Cool name by the way,” he said before stepping aside to listen to the next person up onstage.

I stood stunned for a moment by his praise, but just as quickly as his positivity had warmed me, I remembered whose praise I really wanted. As I searched again for Tobias, the warmth leached out of me when I couldn’t find him. Panic suffused me until Vicki found me. She frowned. “He stepped outside. Tobias. He’s waiting for you.”

The panic receded, but I wasn’t so distracted that I didn’t see the dismay on her face. “What’s wrong? You hated my poem, didn’t you?” My euphoria over the reception of my poem died. It was great to have strangers like it, but I wanted the people I cared about to like it more.

“Do I keep score?” she blurted out.

For a moment I was confused until I realized she was quoting my poem. I took her hand. “I was talking about Steph and her competitiveness. And I used to worry a lot that the two of you would want to stop hanging out with me because I didn’t want to go to parties. I didn’t feel very understood, but that wasn’t on you, Vick. That was all me.”

Seeming relieved she nodded thoughtfully and then gently pushed me away. “Okay, you can go talk to Tobias now.”

I laughed but it was almost hysterical. The mic crackled behind me and realizing someone else was about to read, I quietened and tried to make my way through the crowds before the poem began.

Tobias stood outside the door, staring at the traffic, and just the sight of him made my heart start banging away in my chest even harder than it had when I stood on that stage.

I stopped in front of him, and he straightened up into attention. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

He scrubbed a hand over his head. “I loved your poem.”

“It was about you.”