Chapter 1

May stared disappointedly at the mirror. It wasn’t what she saw in the mirror that caused her thoughts to grumble, but the mirror itself. When she had dropped numerous hints (or maybe the word “hints,” is too subtle) that she wanted a mirror for her bedroom, she had something very specific in mind. Not this yard sale monstrosity that still stunk with the must of someone else’s garage, coated in the dust from… well, she learned in school what dust was made up of and it made her want to gag. A lump formed in her throat as she stared at it. She had to look away, deciding she would just pretend she hadn’t seen it there, propped up against her dresser waiting to surprise her.

For the last few weeks, she had found herself lost in a designer’s daydream whenever she sat in her room. She was endlessly bored and increasingly embarrassed by it. It had been her room these sixteen years, the furniture and accessories slowly morphing with time, but always vestiges of previous and outgrown eras seemed to peek through. As she sat her on bed every afternoon, school books spread all around her, she found herself staring at the walls in her room, seeing in her mind’s eye the space as she longed for it to be. May was the first to admit to herself that too many Saturday afternoons watching HGTV had contributed, perhaps caused her obsession with wanting to re-work her space. It didn’t matter to her why, though. She wanted her room to be beautiful, sophisticated… cohesive.

As it was now, none of the furniture pieces matched each other. Her dresser had been another yard sale find; a pale wood veneer with gold accented edges and a decidedly French, Louis XIV style. Her headboard was a dark brown, almost black. She had always thought it was ugly, its boring straight lines gave no hint to her as to what style the creator may have been going for. Her nightstand was actually a wooden TV-dinner tray, that all too often folded up and collapsed back on itself when she fumbled for the snooze button on her alarm in the mornings. The sound of her lamp, books, and clock crashing against the wall was an even more unpleasant way to wake up than the static blare of the alarm. She had decided that it all had to go. Her dream furniture would be a black stained shaker style. Not frilly. Classic and simple, with creamy white and a subdued lime green for accent colors. And May had seen the perfect mirror to match in some Sunday ads last week.

This mirror, this… interloper into her room, seemed to bring her whole fantasy crashing down around her. Its presence seemed to her to say, “sorry, it’s never going to happen.” The way it matched how everything in her room didn’t match was evidence that as long as she was here, in her parent’s house, ideas of the bedroom sanctuary of her dreams would ever remain flights of fancy. It was rectangular, about one foot by two feet. The frame that housed the mirror was a thick, clunky, dark wood. Though May imagined herself knowledgeable in the things of interior design, she didn’t really know what kind of wood this was supposed to be. It was carved with a random variety of adornments… floral motifs, egg and dart, but not done very tastefully. She could just picture it hanging on a faux wood paneled wall in somebody’s grandparents house next to a burnt orange easy chair

“Well, May-may?” her Dad called from her doorway, his voice breaking through her depression induced hypnosis. “What do you think of the mirror I found for you? As soon as I saw it, I thought of you.”

May jokingly thought for a moment that this should offend her. Knowing her dad, though, he meant it as a compliment. He had a heart of gold, but May thought him completely clueless. She didn’t want to hurt his feelings. But she also didn’t want him to think that she was really happy with it.

“Oh, yeah. Um, thanks. It will do, I guess. I had been picturing something else…”

But as with most everything and everyone else, May hadn’t actually said what she really wanted. She had only said a mirror. How was her Dad to know? He wasn’t a mind reader. She instantly felt like she was being bratty and ungrateful—probably because she was. But she didn’t want her Dad to know it.

“…Thank you though. This is really nice, and it gives me a new idea for my room.” Garage sale chic, she thought.

This made her Dad smile, and he headed back down the hall. May listened to his footsteps grow quieter, and she snorted in disgust at the mirror again when she was sure he was gone. What was it with that man? The family was hardly poor. They were thoroughly middle class, he made a stable income, and yet he insisted on buying practically everything in their house second-hand. May had a joke with her brother Jared, who was one year older, that when Dad went grocery shopping he did it out of the dumpsters behind restaurants.

“Have you finished your homework?” May’s mom popped her head through the door, scanning the room until she found May sitting cross-legged on the floor next to her bed, staring absently at the mirror.

“Yeah, Mom.”

“Good. I want your lights out in 20 minutes. What’s this?” Her mom crossed over to where May was sitting and looked at the mirror.

“Dad got it for me. I had been telling him how I wanted a mirror for my room.”

“Hmm. I’ll hang it for you tomorrow after I get back from the blood drive, ok?”

May’s mom was the type of woman possessed with the kind of energy that kept her constantly going places, planning projects. May wished her mom would catch the urge to re-do her bedroom… if that ever happened, it would be done within days. Though she was a stay-at-home mom, now that her kids were almost all grown, she was hardly home during the day. This actually suited May just fine, as a sixteen-year-old, and the youngest child, she relished chances to just be on her own.

“Alright, that’s fine…” May felt herself surrendering to the mirror, rather than throwing it out the window like she wished she could do. Instead it was all her ideas for that perfectly coordinated and planned bedroom going out the window. “Goodnight, mom.”

The next morning, May arose in a better mood. Sleep always granted perspective, she found, and in the light of this beautiful fall morning she hopped out of bed feeling strangely optimistic about the day. There was nothing special on the horizon, just the hope that came with every new morning—especially school days. May was a Junior in high school now, and she felt like she had hit her stride. She was comfortable in her own skin, had a good group of friends, and did well in school. She was sixteen now, the magical age where her parents allowed her to date. This made her hyper aware of all males around her, hoping to find one who found her interesting, and hoping whoever that may be would also be cute.

As she got ready for school, she peered at herself in the bathroom mirror. She was happier today, but not so happy that she wanted to help justify the existence of the other mirror by using it. She had always found her looks to be pleasant, but average. Today she decided to pull her shoulder length brown hair back in a few tight twists around her crown, pinning them back in a simple style. Her dark blue eyes were accompanied by their usual dark blue circles underneath, which she dabbed away with concealer. It was Monday, so she felt like the weekend offered her a buffer, allowing her to wear her favorite cream colored sweater again today… even though she had just worn it last Wednesday.

At the breakfast table, her brother Jared sat stooped over a bowl of cereal. He shoveled spoonfuls into his mouth without looking, as he read the newspaper next to him. He was a big guy. The spoon looked almost comically tiny in his hand. Last year he had been on the football team but he had a knee injury that left him unable to play this year. He was a senior, and gave as much care and attention to his appearance as most of the senior boys May knew. His hair looked fuzzy from needing a trim, and his face was still swollen with sleepiness. He wore a rumpled t-shirt and jeans, and as May considered her brother she wondered again to herself what it was about him that had so many girls always following him around. Sisters are always immune to their brother’s charms, she supposed.

“Almost ready to go?” May asked Jared, a slight hint of impatience in her voice. They drove to school together, in the “kid car” that their parents designated was theirs to share.

“Yesh,” he said through a mouthful of Lucky Charms, milk bubbling between his teeth as he gulped down his last bite without chewing. May loved her brother, but sometimes she was totally disgusted by him. He hopped up, grabbed his backpack, and said, “I’m driving!”

“Fine by me!” May responded, “You know I can’t stand the traffic around the school in the morning.” She had only had her driver’s license for a few months, and she was still very timid about driving. Unlike most of her friends, she had been in no big hurry to get her license. Cars intimidated her, and other people in cars around when she was driving nearly petrified her.

They made the five minute drive to school in their usual silence, the comfortable quiet of siblings who were now old enough that they didn’t bicker and squabble anymore. When they arrived to campus, the cars were already stacking up around the 3-way stop that fed into the one entrance into the parking lot.

“I’m just going to get out here,” May said. “If I wait for us to get in and find a spot, I will probably be late for class.”

“You won’t be that late,” Jared snorted indifferently. “But do what you want." He rolled his eyes at his sister as she climbed out of the stationary car. May had always been uptight about being tardy, while Jared cared less and less everyday about being on time.

“Oh, hey…” Jared called as he rolled down the window, “You take the car home after school without me, I’ve got plans.”

“Alright…” May responded, a little flash of panic striking as she thought of driving around all those other students. Then she reassured herself thinking that, unlike before school, she could just wait a bit to let the parking lot clear out before she left.

May started walking briskly towards the building that housed her English classroom, scanning the crowd as she did every morning for someone in particular…

There he was. Ryan Rivers—his name sounded to May like that of a news anchor. The way she felt about Ryan was funny, and hard to define. It wasn’t exactly a crush, and it wasn’t really an obsession either. There was just something about him that made her want to be near him. She didn’t dream about him asking her out, like she had with other boys she thought were cute. She just really admired him. She valued his good opinion more than anyone else’s. They had been casual acquaintances for a while, and May was sure that Ryan really had no idea the kind of regard she held him in.

What was it about him? Well, to start with outward appearances, he was attractive. Not devilishly handsome or the type that all the girls constantly bat their eyes at, but still attractive. He had dark blonde hair that he kept cut short (May hated when boys wore their hair long and shaggy over their ears and eyes… it made her think of a Dr. Seuss character). His eyes were a little on the small side, but this somehow worked in his favor. His smile was wide and confident, and created deep creases across his lean face. He was of an average height, probably five foot ten. His build was lean but slightly muscular. May had seen him with his shirt off once at a swimming party, and she had found the sight quite… pleasurable. She wasn’t the sort to gawk after boys for their bodies, but still knew to appreciate what she saw.

The wrapping was nice enough, but it was he himself that really had her. He was really really… good. She had never heard him say anything unkind about anyone, ever. She had never heard him use foul language. He was actively involved in things, and was so self-assured that people seemed to naturally follow him. He was gentlemanly, and friendly, and warm. He was responsible and worked hard, too. There were many times she had seen him working in his parent’s yard, with a smile on his face. May could never think of a time that she had been willing to work in the yard without seriously griping and complaining the whole time.

Perhaps this was illustrative of why she didn’t bother having a crush on him. He was so good. Too good for her, she was sure. She felt small around him, for things she did and said. Even though May never thought she was catty, she found herself feeling as though she seemed that way to him. The thing about that was, she was also sure that he was so kind that he would never judge her harshly if she made a flippant or sharp comment about or to someone else. It was things like that about him that sealed the deal—she could never even dream that he would deign to pursue her romantically, and so she was happy to admire him from afar, and look for chances just to say hello.

She had never told another living soul about her hero-worship of Ryan, but she wondered if she wasn’t the only one feeling so very unworthy of him. No one else seemed to talk about him when the topic of crushes came up, either. He didn’t date anyone, and hadn’t ever as far as May knew. She was happy about that within herself, because as it is now she didn’t have to be jealous of anyone. It would be stupid to be jealous of whoever he did date, she knew… there would be no point, as out of her league as he was. She would have to be satisfied to just hate the living guts of whoever was lucky enough to have his attention.

So that was Ryan. May was nearly to where she could wish him a happy Monday, when she noticed that he was walking with his best friend, Ethan.

Ethan. Ethan, Ethan, Ethan… May had funny feelings towards Ethan too. More normal teenage, hormonally-driven feelings. He was someone on whom she would freely confess in the sacred circle of a slumber party to having a crush. She couldn’t help herself—with his dark hair, bright blue eyes, and nearly perfect proportions, he was seriously adorable. Taken in combination with his exuberant, fun-loving personality, how else could May to react to him? She knew she wasn’t alone; half of the junior class girls probably felt the same way. She liked him in a much more shallow way than in her affinity for Ryan. Unlike with Ryan, May could easily pick out Ethan’s flaws.

He was varying degrees of narcissistic, flighty and irresponsible. But far and away his biggest flaw was that Ethan was a merciless flirt. He usually managed to keep the other failings in check, but not that last one. He knew all of his charms, and he used them. On everybody. Even poor innocent girls whom he had no interest in beyond the surge of pride he probably got when he saw them titter as he smiled at them. And yet, when he unleashed the power of his boyish good looks upon May, she couldn’t bring herself to hold it against him. She was pathetic putty in his hands, and somehow didn’t care. After the fact she always felt foolish, but never shied away from the opportunity to feel foolish once again at the gorgeous hands of Ethan White.

So that was Ethan. The only problem with her crush on Ethan was that Ryan was often around to witness her disgrace as she smiled too enthusiastically back at him, and found herself agreeing to anything he said while under his spell. This only pushed her farther away from being anywhere close to Ryan’s level, in her own estimation.

May had known these two for as long as she could remember. She had been in first grade with Ryan, second grade with Ethan, and both had been in fourth and fifth grade with her. She knew them as well as any other boys while she was in elementary school. It was enough to feel familiar and comfortable, but not so well that they ever saw or spoke to each other outside of school. She never saw either of them during the three years of junior high when they attended different schools. When they had started high school, Ethan and Ryan had both immediately caught her attention. The years of absence had made them complete strangers, but May thought this was a good thing. It made it possible to see them as young men, and for them to see her as a young woman. The memories of childhood embarrassments had been erased by time, but the camaraderie of having endured them together remained.

Both of these boys were in May’s English class, so she smoothly merged next to them into the stream of students entering the building.

She looked toward Ryan and smiled, “Good Morning, Ryan.” That was about all she ever said to him, never anywhere near as bold as she wished she could be.

“May.” He said nodding in recognition of her greeting, and giving her a sincere smile.

Ethan leaned around Ryan’s other side, to look at May with a big smile and a false expression of hurt.

“Uh! May, my favorite girl! Aren’t you going to say hello to me?” He pouted, his eyes digging into hers.

May didn’t suppose for one second that he actually cared for her attention, but she was happy to let him flatter her anyway. Trying not to act too ridiculously, May looked back at him.

“Ethan… Hello.” Her voice climbed in pitch in a silly girly sing-song way that made her feel so… teenaged. She was frustrated with herself that she didn’t dislike Ethan for the way he obviously used her. She sighed within herself. It was just his way, and darn it if it didn’t seriously work for him.

May entered the English classroom and sat down in her regular spot, one row over and two seats up from Ethan. Ryan sat next to Ethan, two seats behind May. The arrangement was such that she could never see Ryan, but could often see Ethan. And Ryan could always see her… acting stupidly for Ethan. Yet May felt Ryan was so far beyond a lost cause that he didn’t even appear on her radar these days, and she enjoyed the way the time passed more excitingly in English class with Ethan frequently winking and smiling at her. Even though he flirted with nearly everyone, she seemed to be his favorite target—in this class, anyway. She reveled in the extra attention she got from him here, even though she knew he had five other favorite victims in each of the remaining five periods throughout the day.

Class was still a few minutes away from starting, and May was blankly staring at the white board when Ethan suddenly appeared beside her, making her jump.

“May—,” He put his right hand lightly on her shoulder blade, making her tingle all over. She looked up at him, trying to coolly hide her surprise. “I am such an idiot, I need you to save me.” May looked at him with a confused face, knowing that he knew exactly what he did to her as he touched her that way, and knowing he was about to ask her to do something for him.

“What do you need?” May asked, trying to appear disinterested, but failing.

Ethan starting playfully walking his fingers along the seam in her sweater as he began to explain, “I can’t believe I did this again, but I forgot my copy of Huck Finn.” Their teacher, Mrs. Nelson, had a serious pet peeve with students forgetting their books when they came to class. She had a “three strikes, you’re out” policy. On strike three, the offender had to join her after school for what she termed “hard labor.” May was glad she didn’t know what that entailed; she had zero strikes.

Ethan continued, turning up the heat even more with his eyes, as he pretended to look away, ashamedly, then back at May, “Strike three…” he whispered, then lowered his mouth to her ear and breathed, “I’m OUT.” May tried to remain composed, but Ethan had never gone to this much effort on her before.

She released an embarrassing, shaky laugh and without thinking much for the consequences, handed her copy of “Huck Finn” over.

The smile he gave her in return just left her staring, feeling like an idiot, but unable to undo what just happened. Oh, how she wished she could hate him…

He slid back into his seat just as Mrs. Nelson began addressing the class. She seemed to be in a crabby mood from the start, snapping at a girl in the front row for tapping her pencil on her desk. May felt a sense of foreboding beginning to wash over her, and she slouched down in her chair, suddenly very certain that the fact she didn’t have her book now was going to be an issue.

May was too spineless to do what she really wanted to do, which was turn around to Ethan and tell him it wasn’t her fault he left his book behind, and demand hers back. The story of her life over and over again, May never said what she really wanted to say, and never did what she really wanted to do. And as her thoughts wandered back two seats to where Ryan sat, surely a witness to her weak-will; and as she thought of the disappointment of the mirror from yesterday, she said to herself, I’ll never have the things I really want to have.