PAINTING BETWEEN HEARTBEATS: A DEFENSE OF Tl IE NOVEL IN VERSE IN YOUNG ADULT LITERATURE by Tim Costello A project submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of MASTER OF ARTS IN ENGLISH WEBER STATE UNIVERSITY Ogden, Utah April 21, 2026 Approved ·---...... re of C ~ ~_awJ Laura Stott m1ttee Chair /./J ~ ' Signature of Committee Member ' Sunni Wilkinson Ryan Ridge Costello 1 A novel in verse is simply a novel that uses poetry to tell its story as opposed to the traditional prose style. While there has been epic poetry such as Homer’s The Odyssey or The Iliad, which is similar to a novel in verse in terms of having a long sustained narrative, there is a marked difference between what is presented there than what is presented in a novel in verse. In recent years, the mode of the novel in verse has been popularized in the young adult genre. It might appear that a novel in verse which primarily features poetry would be an odd fit for the young adult reading audience. Young adult novels are all about identity. The primary young adult reading audience – despite what common word of mouth would have you believe – is primarily ages 12-18. Given that age range, the themes of identity make perfect sense. If one has read even a small fraction of YA novels, you will sense that is true. Elizabeth Acevedo, a foundational voice in the format, once said, “The question of identity is a big one in the book. What does it mean to not be from here or from there?” (Navarro) This work represents the writer identity that I have long tried to cultivate. As such, the novel is a creatively cumulative work. I first started writing it in early 2022. Leading up to that, I wanted to write stories and believed prose to be the only real way to do it. Poetry was a very late discovery in my life. I believed it to be fluffy and very hard to write. Sunni Wilkinson showed me the different ways that poetry could be used. Several years later, I took the YA literature course taught by Megan Van Deventer that influenced my writer and reader identity. It was in this course that I discovered the form of a novel in verse. I had never read a novel in verse before . So when I picked up Clap Costello 2 When You Land by Elizabeth Acevedo, I had no idea how much my life would be changed by it. Once I read it, it illuminated my way of thinking. I enjoyed reading books with great characters that have unique journeys throughout the work. I wanted to write novels but there was this muscle that I had strengthened in poetry that didn’t quite fit in with that. Reading Clap When You Land as a novel in verse opened my eyes on how I could incorporate my two writing strengths that I have developed in my studies. Every semester at Weber State, there has at least been one book that I mark as THE book of that semester. Clap When You Land was such a book that semester. My first step on this journey was a semi-biographical novel in verse, depicting moving on from a lost love and finding new love. I drew from personal experience quite heavily. The main character was essentially me. My lost love and new love in the story were those that filled those roles in my own life. What made it different is I wanted to provide the main character with a sense of closure, which I did at the end of the novel. While that project was successful to a degree, I wanted to retool it slightly for a YA audience and make it slightly less biographical but still tackle those same ideas. And so Painting Between Heartbeats was born. ​ The question first and foremost on peoples' minds, I am sure, upon reading this story is “Why a Novel in Verse?” At first glance, it would seem that this story could simply be told in prose. Why make it a novel in verse? The simple answer to that being I have a poet’s heart. That is the basic answer. Reading novels in verse off and on throughout my college career made it clear to me that this was a format that seemed very fun to play around in. Novels in verse used poetry throughout in all different forms Costello 3 and yet still had the narrative cohesion of a novel that made the storytelling very easy to follow. ​ In an interview that Elizabeth Acevedo did on her novel in verse, Clap When You Land, she was asked how she made the decision to make a novel in verse or a traditional novel. Here is what she had to say: ​ “It’s really just what’s the best container for this voice. Sometimes it feels like verse lets you get a little closer inside a character’s head” (Davis). ​ This was a small but powerful explanation of what I felt when writing my novel in verse throughout its many forms. The verse form allows us to get even more deeper into characters' heads than prose does. The imagery, the descriptions, and the form itself connects us more deeply to the characters. I also felt that the format was the best way to capture the character’s voice. I felt like Henry and Danielle – the main protagonists of Painting Between Heartbeats – had voices that only could be contained by verse and not in any other way. They needed this and I needed them to have it, as well. Because it is a romance novel in verse about two people finding each other, with one moving on from a lost love and connecting to a new one, I felt the verse format lent itself nicely to that, with poems being so instrumental in romantic expression. Obviously, poetry is utilized heavily within a novel in verse. This begs another question – what makes a novel in verse different from a collection of poetry that has a unifying theme? There are certainly similarities to both formats but there is a difference. While books in that ilk are very wonderful to read – having read a few of them myself inside and outside the college setting – there is a profound difference. Costello 4 For example, one such work that had an influence on my choice of genre is Inside the Animal by Shannan Ballam, which tells a very specific story while underlying the narrative thread of Little Red Riding Hood. While it and many other collections have unifying themes that the book comes back to again and again, it is not telling an overarching narrative that a novel in verse does. The story being told in a novel in verse adheres to both the rules of poetry and the rules of fiction. You are getting great poems within the book but also having characters that you can root for. Inside the Animal is quite literally the best of both worlds in that regard. It has an overarching story with poems being used to tell that story. It just doesn’t quite reach the length of a novel in verse. But length isn’t the only thing that separates a narrative poetry collection to a novel in verse. At the risk of repeating myself, it follows the narrative structure a little bit more closely through a character’s journey. In the case of Clap When You Land, it follows the dual character journeys of Camino Rios and Yahaira Rios as they navigate the loss of their father in a plane crash. With my own novel, it follows the dual character journeys of Henry and Danielle as they discover a new relationship in the midst of personal struggles – the wounds of a prior relationship with Henry, and dealing with a family divorce with Danielle. One such example is in the novel in verse, The Crossover, by Kwame Alexander. Because of the nature of the format, it really uses the time it has to utilize the poetic form and introduce us to the characters and the conflict that the character will be going through for the rest of the novel. The title of this poem in this novel is called “Josh Bell”. This particular poem has the title bleed into the poem. Costello 5 Josh Bell is my name. But Filthy McNasty is my claim to fame. Folks call me that ’cause my game’s acclaimed, so downright dirty, it’ll put you to shame. My hair is long, my height’s tall. See, I’m the next Kevin Durant, LeBron, and Chris Paul. Remember the greats, my dad likes to gloat: I balled with Magic and the Goat. But tricks are for kids, I reply. Don’t need your pets my game’s so fly. Mom says, Your dad’s old school, like an ol’ Chevette. You’re fresh and new, like a red Corvette. Your game so sweet, it’s a crêpes suzette. Each time you play it’s ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLL net. Costello 6 If anyone else called me fresh and sweet, I’d burn mad as a flame. But I know she’s only talking about my game. See, when I play ball, I’m on fire. When I shoot, I inspire. The hoop’s for sale, and I’m the buyer (Alexander, 4-5). What this particular poem accomplishes is quite different from a poem in a chapbook or poetry collection. It establishes several key characters including Josh Bell, the protagonist, as well as his parents. It also establishes Josh’s love and immediate skill for the sport of basketball. You get all of that in such a short amount of time. I applaud the book for accomplishing such. Another interesting bit of storytelling that The Crossover by Kwame Alexander in particular does is using structure. It is something that I found quite interesting in relation to other novels. The book has six sections to it: Warm Up, First Quarter, Second Quarter, Third Quarter, Fourth Quarter and Overtime. This is obviously the main structure points of a basketball game and all of the story that would happen in the small Costello 7 period of time in which the narrative is set. It keeps the main themes and ideas of basketball in the reader’s mind and in the character’s headspace. It is a technique I have employed within Painting Between Heartbeats by structuring it in the phases of what it accomplishes. With my novel, I have separate sections based on the phases of a painting, as Henry is a painter. The section titles will be titled thus: The Layout, The Sketch, The Underpainting, The Layering, and The Finish. The Layout is the section that I have included in my thesis and what I have written. The Sketch and the Underpainting are Danielle and Henry trying to reconcile an uncomfortable introduction and start to form an attachment and falling in love. The Layering is when things start getting complicated as Henry starts to get anxious about Danielle, worried what happened with Lydia will happen with Danielle. Lydia also tries to interfere and puts a wrench in things. In The Finish, everything wraps up with Henry moving on from Lydia and giving his whole heart to Danielle. This unique structure helps to anchor the reader in the overall theme of Henry’s painting and helps you feel that painting is omnipresent in Henry’s life, as basketball was omnipresent in The Crossover’s characters’ lives. So could this story that is being told in Painting Between Heartbeats be told within a traditional prose novel? I am sure that it could. But that is not the kind of story that I wanted to tell for this particular story. One thing a novel in verse can do in my reading of it over the past few years and, particularly over the past few months, is something that I inherently wanted to do is really get into the heads of these characters and allow the reader to feel their struggle. Can you not do that with a prose novel? One could argue that you can, but a novel in verse does something other novels can’t – the musicality and verse of the poem helps you see and feel the powerful moments of those Costello 8 characters more deeply. You feel you are in it with them. You are not just an observer to the events of the novel, but are actually in the body of it living and feeling with the main character. Elizabeth Acevedo had very interesting things to say about this as well, as she has written several novels in verse herself. She was interviewed by Audible about Clap When You Land, which had two sisters separated by geography – one in the Dominican Republic and the other in NY. In the following quote, she discusses what separates the two formats – a prose novel and a novel in verse – as she has written both in the past with The Poet X and Clap When You Land being novels in verse, and Fire On High and Family Lore, being traditional prose novels. “I wasn't sure that this was a novel that would be able to be contained in verse. Usually with something that's more adventurous, where you have multiple settings and a lot of characters, I tend to think that prose does better because it can contain all of that information, [whereas] verses come at you very quickly, so trying to establish a complicated family structure or dialog is hard. But I also felt like I wanted the music of New York and the music of the Dominican Republic to come through. I wanted to have rhythm be a really big part of the story. I wanted to sit with these characters. And I think poetry automatically lets you know like, ‘This is going to be a contemplative endeavor. I'm going to need you to stop and sit with the metaphor, I'm going to need you to pay attention to imagery. You're probably going to have to reread a passage. I wanted folks to take that time out, you know? You always get accused that a verse novel—or not accused, but one of the things that is hailed about a verse novel is that they're quick reads. But I also think they make you stop a lot” (de la Cruz). Costello 9 What Acevedo says here is what I really wanted to capture in Painting Between Heartbeats. There are moments within Acevedo’s work that help along with that. In The Poet X, you feel Xiomara “X” Batista’s inner struggle with faith and her place in the world in ways you just cannot in a regular novel. For example, there is a scene in which X is intimate with her boyfriend and because of that, she is late for her bus stop. The following verses help you to kind of get in the head of the characters and also help you to feel what those characters are feeling. The section/poem is called “The Shit and The Fan”: “And I know then. Mami’s eyes were a fan and my make-out session on the train was the shit hitting it. Lucky me, she’s yelling from her bedroom and I let myself into the one I share with Twin, click the door shut, and slide down to put my head between my legs.” (Acevedo, 192) ​ How this scene helps you get under the skin and heart of a character or a moment is with the imagery, as Acevedo indicated. The imagery really helps to encapsulate what a character is feeling at that given moment. There are many moments like this throughout novels in verse. The verse really accentuates the “all hope is lost” moment in many novels in verse. The aforementioned moment in The Poet X falls in Costello 10 those lines. Many of the novels in verse I have read use the imagery and viscerality that only verse and poetry can provide. It is what opened my mind to poetry. ​ Within Painting Between Heartbeats, there is a similar moment that poetry accentuates Henry’s state of mind as it did for X in The Poet X. On the way to school, Henry encounters his ex-girlfriend, Lydia, which sends him spiraling in his anxiety. The verse of poetry helps to accentuate that, as well as when he meets Danielle for the first time. I utilized different forms of poetry to help the reader see the emotional turmoil that occurs there. ​ The reason the verses can accentuate the big moments in the lives of these characters is because of the format. The imagery works for the characters involved. As young adult reading age level is 12 to 18, the larger than life imagery that poetry provides actually helps tell the protagonist’s story and highlight those moments. The protagonists of said novels tend to be around the ages of the target audience. This age is highly emotional and often relates more to art and succinct styles of writing rather than longer forms, like the traditional novel. ​ Paisley Rekdal in her book, Real Toads, Imaginary Gardens: On Reading and Writing Poetry talks about the use of imagery and how it can make even the most mundane thing become epic and magnificent. ​ “[T]hat one delight of imagery is how it makes the mundane fresh and wild; it defamiliarizes what we might, in our daily lives, grow numb to, even cease to perceive. At the heart of metaphor lies uncertainty, even though the description itself may be clear. We cannot see every part of the poet’s mind or meaning, though the image lets us come close” (Rekdal, 62). Costello 11 ​ The imagery that is used in the poems in a novel in verse allow us to not only come close to what is in the poet’s mind as all great poetry does, but also in the realm of narrative storytelling allows us to come to what is in the character’s mind as well. From the outside viewer, a high school student falling in love and trying to figure out his place in the world seems very mundane because it is something every person goes through at one point in their life. The struggles of adolescence feel very mundane as it is something everybody has gone through, but for the teenage person – or literary character – it feels larger than life. In the early example from the poem “The Shit and the Fan” from The Poet X, X having her mom see her kiss a boy is the worst thing that could happen in her lifetime. So the poetry fits the intensity of that moment that Acevedo uses to great aplomb. She also uses it greatly in Clap When You Land as well. In The Crossover when Josh’s twin brother, Jordan, has a new girlfriend, it is a life changing moment. Alexander utilizes verse to stimulate not only the moment but by what it means to Josh in terms of the moment and in terms of Josh’s feelings. ​ Up until now, I have mentioned novels in verse that have featured single narrative voices. This is the easiest to write from a writing standpoint when you are the sole author, especially when writing poems and verses as you do in a novel in verse. There are exceptions to that rule. Sunrise Nights by Brittany Cavallaro and Jeff Zentner is the novel that I feel captured what I wanted to do with Painting Between Heartbeats, which is to showcase two different journeys as they navigate love and romance. Clap When You Land, as well, but that is more sisterly love and less romantic love. Sunrise Nights tells the story of how Jude and Florence meet by chance at a summer arts club. We spend time bouncing off of their perspectives as this romance that they find blooms. Costello 12 As I mentioned in other beginnings, we are immediately introduced to their unique perspectives and challenges. ​ One such passage of imagery that describes the anxiety that Jude feels on a daily basis really struck me. It goes back to that “magnificent in the mundane” idea that poems are so adept at capturing. ​ “Here’s a truth about me: left to its own devices my mind treats me badly. Sometimes (okay, a lot of times) a thought gets stuck like a twig in a river eddy, never quite making it to freedom or even ruin, which I’d prefer to the chaotic spinning. Sometimes it’s a shapeless feeling that looms over me like constantly dwelling in the terrible space between knowing you’re falling” (Zentner, Cavallaro p.3) The powerful imagery that gets you into the mind of the character and possibly into the mind of the poet, conveys Jude’s voice. Conversely, Florence’s voice is quite different as well. While that is because Florence’s voice is written by Brittany Cavallaro and Jude’s voice is written by Jeff Zentner, the differing voices are still conveyed beautifully before the voices converge in the final act of the novel. Similarly, Elizabeth Acevedo conveys differing voices in her novel. She talks about juggling those voices and how she maintains her own voice while still balancing Costello 13 her own authorial voice. Initially, she had one voice in mind but an author gave her feedback – not too dissimilar from feedback I have received – that she needed to craft another voice to flesh out the other side of the romance. It turns out that that is exactly what the novel needed to feel more complete, both for Painting Between Heartbeats and Clap When You Land. Why a novel in verse? To reiterate what Elizabeth Acevedo said, “It’s really just what’s the best container for this voice. Sometimes it feels like verse lets you get a little closer inside a character’s head.” Poetry allows the writer a broader range of expression to help the reader feel more deeply, allowing the readers to live in the moment with the characters. You will feel Henry’s anxiety through poetic form, as you will feel Danielle’s devotion and depression. Not only is it perfect for the voice of characters but it is perfect for the story. Upon writing and feeling for the characters in my novel, and trying various forms that poetry can take, I can honestly say unequivocally that my project definitely needed to be written in this form. There is power in poetry and I was happy to explore my story in this medium. Costello 14 Works Cited Alexander, Kwame. The Crossover. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2014. Acevedo, Elizabeth. Clap When You Land. Quill Tree Books, 2020. Acevedo, Elizabeth. The Poet X. Quill Tree Books, 2018. Ballam, Shanan. Inside the Animal: The Collected Red Riding Hood Poems. Main Street ​ Rag Publishing Company, 2019. Davis, Arianna “Elizabeth Acevedo, Author of Clap When You Land, Is the YA Author I ​ Needed as Teen.” https://www.oprahdaily.com/entertainment/books/a33535420/elizabeth-acevedo-c lap-when-you-land-interview/ De LaCruz, Edwin. “The Unflinching Honesty in Elizabeth Acevedo’s ‘Clap When You Land.’” 10 August 2020. https://www.audible.com/blog/the-unflinching-honesty-in-elizabeth-acevedos-clap -when-you-land?srsltid=AfmBOop9-Kg5YVFqB84nGqEHAmLyAR8Us_3bf2CWB psdILN8u20IC0j4 Navarro, Lulu Garcia. “Tragedy Reveals 2 Secret Families In 'Clap When You Land.'” 10 May 2020 https://www.npr.org/2020/05/10/853415104/author-elizabeth-acevedo-on-her-ne w-novel-clap-when-you-land Rekdal, Paisley. Real Toads, Imaginary Gardens: On Reading and Writing Poetry Forensically. W.W. Norton and Company. 2024. Zentner, Jeff, and Brittany Cavallaro. Sunrise Nights. Quill Tree Books, 2024. Costello 15 PAINTING BETWEEN HEARTBEATS by Tim Costello ​ Costello 16 THE LAYOUT Costello 17 HENRY MOM’S BOMB “You need to meet a girl,” Mom sharply says. I have not yet begun my senior year She always did this, breaking into my room. My sanctuary. my safety. Without warning. I wish she understood why I was less than eager to do what she asks heartbreak from Lydia that Lydia, causing me to sprain through pain My head just hit the hard wood of my desk, determined not to kill my own mother Costello 18 DANIELLE ALARM UNAWAKENED Ring The alarm goes off What time is it? Ring Alarm still going off 5:30?!?! Ring I don’t want to get up not today, not ever Ring My body bolted to the bedspread, immovable Ring Today was the first day since that dreaded day Ring My dad in divorce un-married my mom Ring I declared myself dead by depression Ring School. I had to get ready now Ring I pull myself from bed, willing myself up Ring Costello 19 Bellowing its blazing bothersome buzz Ring I reached for the clanking clock Ring To turn off the alarm for the last time Silence I guess school waits for no one, depression be damned Costello 20 HENRY NO MORE GIRLS Mom news flash Today’s topic was dating. Wait what? Dating wasn’t at the top of my thoughts. Because of Lydia. lousy Lydia “I just broke up with Lydia.” I pointlessly pointed out. Always useless to debate mom. Since breaking up with Lydia, I pored paints, mixing the colors and the lights to take my mind off her grisly glower “No matter. Gotta get back out there. Crawl out of your canvas, sweetheart. See the sun again.” I stood firm. “No, mom. I cannot do it now. Painting is my passion. Girls will have to wait.” My desires leaned not towards love but the color and light that was the mistress of my heart. I could feel my mom’s scowl from my feet to my spine Costello 21 upset at not getting her way but she’d deal and so would I. Costello 22 DANIELLE DAD DRUDGERY I walked down the stairs and into our kitchen, cleansed through the shower, ready for a new day. I looked and saw my dad at the breakfast table. He was disheveled, dressed in his pajamas after sleeping. His beard growing like a summer lawn uncut. Divorce was a hammer that hit him harder than the hardest hammer to a nail. I look at him, wanting to help him, reach out to him with a heavenly hand. But who would help me? Sure, dad's heart. The divorce hurt my heart too. Through that time, I learned things. To trust myself. No one else. Not even Alex. Alex was a help. But even he was lifted from her life. A missing note on the page. I don’t even know how it ended. It just did. Like how I hoped this day would end. ​ ​ Costello 23 HENRY LYDIA, LYDIA I start to climb the stairs to get my backpack from my room But also to get away from mom and her dating directive. She forgets so so easily that the nightmare that had Lydia the starring role was started by her. Like last time, she gave me words of encouragement to engage with her more. She also forgets that it was she that Lydia had the pernicious problem with, a friendship that had turned terrible. Oh, Lydia, Oh Lydia, have you met Lydia? Good. Lydia, that tainted girl. Lydia that tainted girl. I loved her looks. A heart even more so. I thought she was the one. I guess everyone feels that way sometimes. It is high school after all. Mom’s D-bomb hurt worse than an A-bomb. How could she forget the mess Lydia left? It’s like all she wants is a girl to friend with, at no risk to her son’s health. Costello 24 DANIELLE FIRST DAY PRAYERS I can’t. I just can’t. I can’t. Not today. School is just too tough, already in a new place. Had to move ourselves from mom. I mean, there is music classes. Maybe that will make it more manageable. Manage . . . Manage . . . Manage . . . Oh no! I can’t believe I forgot it again. I gather all my stuff together as my backpack laid in the living room. Amazing I can find it through the endless bluffs of boxes.​ ​ ​ ​ ​ Now I cannot remem-​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ber what I forgot. Depression, divorce Made me forget. I could not let that stop me. It was a new school. What a way to Begin senior year. New house. New school. New life. ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ I need comfort. I need hope. I may ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ not have that. But I pray in my ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ heart that I may have that. My hand ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ grabs the silver cross necklace hanging over my chest. My passive palm turns into eager embrace felt in my fingers ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ I need my Lord today. He will help ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ me through this first day of school. ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ I pray hard toward Heaven ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ I close my eyes and lift up ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ My head in reverence ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ Dear God, ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ help to make it through this day. ​ ​ ​ This first day of school. I need to make a friend. Help my dad to navigate these waters. In Jesus’s name. Amen. ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ Costello 25 ​ HENRY BRUSH PAST BREAKFAST I ran down the stairs as if I was late for school, which I was. First day of School. I pushed everything mom had said out of my brain. I didn’t even see her as I ran out the door. Didn’t eat breakfast. I couldn’t today. I just didn’t need to worry about anything. I just needed to get through the first day At least I had my lucky paintbrush Firmly in hand. Nothing could worry me today. I had my heart in hand. No Lydia. No worries. Today I am simply Henry.​ ​ Costello 26 DANIELLE FIRST DAY JITTERS I exited the door, not knowing anything about The school I was to walk into. They had barely moved to this new town, Lakeview. The high school being Lakeview I moved a few weeks ago and had not even seen the lake. I was supposed to view a lake right? Lake. View. Made sense to view a lake. All the thoughts that kept pouring into my brain like this. Rather than focusing on what really mattered. My name. Costello 27 DANIELLE WHAT CAN I DO WITH THIS NAME? What was wrong with my name? Well, let me see if I can point it out: 1.​ Named after Mom 2.​ Named after Mom 3.​ Named after Mom With all she did to dad, the last thing I want to do is be bound to that bitch anymore than by blood, which I was stuck with no matter what. Ugh. Danielle. Danielle. Mom never even bothered to nickname me. That would have been something at least. Why couldn’t it be like Gilmore Girls? Lorelai named her daughter the same name but she gave her Rory as a name Of course, in Gilmore Girls, Rory kept her nickname to clear confusion, not to clear shame from pain. At least I had my middle name. I didn’t share that with my mom at least. Mom’s middle name was Angela. Costello 28 Mine was better. Mine was Nicole. Maybe I can be called that instead at least on school’s first day. Costello 29 HENRY BRUSH TO SCHOOL I left Mom in my dust, paintbrush in hand. Less on Lydia, more on light. I just needed to focus on my paints. Shouldn’t be too hard as the first day had an art class with it. Everything made sense with art. Mom, Lydia, all the first day jitters. It all vanished as if on a blank canvas. In life and on that canvas, I had the brush. I could paint it anyway I wanted. And today, I could paint anything he wanted. I would paint a good day. A smile escaped my lips. Could it be? I looked up and saw her. My satisfaction turned to sorrow when my eyes gazed. Costello 30 HENRY LYDIA It was Lydia. Sure, they’d broken up. But she still went to Lakeview. Why did I in a million years think she was going to not be there? She was walking and laughing with her friends. I knew them. Mary, Melissa, and the worst of them all Myra. All of them gossipmakers. All I could do was gaze at Lydia. She stood in the center, as if she was the ring leader and her friends were her monkeys. They sure acted like it. I just needed her to not to look at me. As long as that happened, everything would be fine. All is well. Please don’t look, Please don’t look. I said to myself, as pleading to the unknown gods of high school. As if they were good gods. There is no god in high school. Just popularity contests and constant cliques. Please don’t look, Please don’t look. But my pleas didn’t work. Because Lydia, the cruel queen of my heart looked back at me. That sinister smile piercing into my heart. Costello 31 HENRY LYDIA V. HENRY: DAWN OF AWFULNESS Lydia looked back, her brown curly hair bouncing as she did so. It was known to seduce even the shyest of high school boys. She had Lakeview High in her tight grip. I wish I could’ve moved to another school, that way I wouldn’t be caught in her deadly web. “Oh Henry,” she said, like the sneaky spider-woman she was. “Paint anything good this summer?” My jaw clenched as I held back a litany of insults to hurl at the woman so I wouldn’t be caught in the web. I cannot deal with her right now. “Hi, Lydia,” I sheepishly squeaked out. “Yeah, I painted a few good things.” This is how she sunk her venomous fangs into me last year. Pretending to take an interest in my art and then before it was too late? I was wrapped in her web, no escape. But I did escape. Or I could say . . . she allowed my escape, barely with my soul intact. Costello 32 Sweat soaked through my brow. My heart pounded through my chest. Oh no. Here it comes. The anxiety. It was the worst part of myself. A silent snake that reared its ugly head and coils at the worst times. Wrapping me up just as Lydia wrapped me in her web. The part of me she never cared for. Coerced me to counseling for it. Never seeing one herself. What was happening? I couldn’t take it. I could not breathe. Just being near her had a chokehold on me. I was going to die standing here. My paintbrush to break. Next now, all I could do was run. Costello 33 HENRY RUN, RUN, RUN I just ran. I knew where Lakeview High was. All I had to do was make it there. I could hear a cackling cacophony coming from way back, no doubt caused by Lydia and her monkey minions. I just ran and ran and ran like a bunny on batteries. Suddenly, I stopped and felt myself stumble to the ground. As I looked up, I saw someone in a purple sweater draped under redorange hair. Oh no. My anxiety had hurt someone other than me. I had to help her, Costello 34 whoever she was. Costello 35 DANIELLE CONSEQUENCES OF COLLISION What in holy heaven ​ ​ ​ had hit me so hard? My head was dancing ​ ​ ​ as if billions upon billions of ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ sugar plum fairies were dancing ​ ​ ​ ​ inside of my head ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ Still seeing stars, ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ I looked across and I could not believe it. It looked like I wasn’t the only one hit by whatever that was ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ I gazed and saw a boy.​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ A boy? My first day at ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ school and I already ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ met a boy? If only my​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ old girlfriends could see ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ me now. It was just like ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ I was regaining what ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ consciousness I had. I ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ got a good look at the boy. ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ Could not see his face but ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ I could not help but ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ notice his hair. It was like ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ the sands of the California beach I longed for. So many happy memories. I breathed a sigh as he lifted his head to look at me. His eyes. Oh, his eyes. I’d never seen eyes that color. Bluer than the bluest California sky. In what was the first time in a Costello 36 long time, a small sliver of hope ignited in my heart. Maybe today would not be so bad after all. Costello 37 HENRY I MET A GIRL (AND DO I LIKE HER?) Gosh!​ ​ My head is killing me! ​ ​ ​ ​ Was I bleeding? Was my head an egg?​ ​ ​ ​ Great. ​ ​ ​ ​ Now they’re gonna name an omelette after me ​ ​ ​ ​ because no doubt the sidewalk is plastered ​ ​ ​ with the guts and blood from my head. ​ ​ I felt around and there was nothing that indicated ​ ​ ​ lasting injury. What a relief, I sighed as I raised my limp body to the ground. What I saw, I was totally unprepared for. It was a girl. The irony. I ran from Lydia’s web only to crash into an innocent girl bug. My head started swirling, not from injury but acute anxiety. I hope I didn’t hurt her. She had probably broken a leg or shattered an arm or maybe it was her head that had splattered all over the sidewalk. My anxiety stopped as I got a real good look at her. The sun had barely Costello 38 come up but what sun there was, illuminated her red-orange hair that it was like fire. I was surprised she had not burst into flames right there. Her eyes though? Her eyes were like emeralds, piercing into my very soul. In all the painting I’d done this summer . . . No. All the painting I’d ever done in my whole life, I had never seen such a green. Wow. What a pretty girl. Then, suddenly as if to bolt me to the ground, my anxiety struck like an arrow. This wasn’t a Cupid arrow. It was a dagger to the heart. I could not fall in love again. I just didn’t have the heart for it. The pain of Lydia was still too near. What do I do? Again, all the fears, the pains, the daggers, the hurt all came rushing back. I could not give in to the hurt and the heal. Not now. Not yet. ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ Costello 39 DANIELLE AND HENRY MUSIC AND COLOR​ “Are you all right?” I asked the boy, hoping he was okay. I mean, I ran into him. I hoped I hadn’t caused him any lasting pain. The boy gazed at her, but there was something to him. Frozen? Dead? Bound? Something. ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ “Uhhh . . . yeah. I’m fine,” he responded quickly, a little too quickly, I thought. It was a dead note, the sound a piano makes when you slam your hands on it. “Listen, I just wanna –” ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ I needed to end this fast. I needed to just apologize and leave so I can get back on the way to school. As I tried to get up, I looked at my hand and saw it. Oh no, I thought. My world is over. I looked and saw that my lucky paintbrush had snapped into two halves. I started to just look at There it was again. Every word out of his mouth, that BLOMP sound of the piano when you’re frustrated. Had I frustrated him? I hated that sound so I was gonna talk and put an end to it really fast ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ “Listen,” I started. “I am really sorry about running into you. I should’ve been paying better attention.” This seemed to relax him the paintbrush. If the chance encounter with Lydia had not set me off, this was a guarantor of grief. Emotions swirled in me like all the colors on a cluttered canvas. Sadness. Anger.​ ​ ​ ​ Costello 40 a bit. The notes in his heart seemed to gain a little bit lighter. I could hear his music. Suddenly though the music changed. ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ “How could you do this to me?” I ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ shouted at her. “Do you realize what ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ you’ve done?” I felt myself losing all ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ The music changed from soft notes to hard notes. No longer the BLOMP or the soft notes that a piano brought. sense of control. Anxiety was taking over. Red and orange bled from the​ blues and greens of our eyes. I just​ ​ What was this sound? The music of the boy’s heart could no longer lost it. “I don’t know what your name is, girl. But if you broke this, I want nothing ​ be felt. It was just noise. Noise that emanated from him. Great. Now the more to do with you.” I picked myself up, my anxiety an engine pushing me forward. only person I possibly could’ve been friends with, I have alienated. The I walked away from her. All girls were all just like Lydia. The dreamscape Mom had cooked up depression kicked in. I felt myself tumbling down, as he got up. What ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ couldn’t be real. I just started walking, no running. A walk that would appear to balm, but never cleanse pain have I done now? It seems the only thing that could be my friend is pain. ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ What a great first day this turned out to be. What a terrible first day this turned out to be. ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​ ​