Somebody's Daughter: A Memoir by Ashley C. Ford

Author:Ashley C. Ford [Ford, Ashley C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781250826114
Google: LSg8zgEACAAJ
Amazon: B08FGSQYND
Publisher: Flatiron Books
Published: 2021-06-14T23:00:00+00:00

17

In all my hallway wandering, it was never my intention to settle in any one place, so I didn’t. I didn’t want anyone to get too close—and I didn’t want Bradley to come looking for me. I walked down the halls, occasionally listening as an announcement came over the intercom. They were always announcing awards or accomplishments. My name was never called, but one name was always on or at the top of the list. Brett Tubbs. I hated that name. Day after day I rolled my eyes at the mention of this Brett Tubbs, who I did not know and hoped I would never be so cursed as to gaze upon. It was only a matter of time though in our small school.

I wanted to hate him so bad the first time I met him—the first time he made me laugh. I’d walked into the classroom where the newspaper club would be meeting, and saw his name on the board, listed as one of the students expected to join. I rolled my eyes, and found a seat with my back to the wall, the entire class in front of me. I sat there, fuming at the idea of him, of potentially having to work with him, and then he walked in. He smiled at me as I glared at him, and said, “This will be fun. The teacher’s kind of a dumbass.” Yes, I despised the idea of a goody-two-shoes boy, so good at doing whatever adults told him to do, too dumb to know none of it mattered. But that wasn’t Brett.

Soon, my hatred turned into a deep and urgent pining. Brett exuded a sense of control over himself, and over his life, and I was drawn to his steadiness. His love for music helped too. By the middle of the semester I was working on the school newspaper, playing intermural soccer, and had fallen in love with color guard, and most of it was because of him. I didn’t even know myself, but I liked myself. Maybe I did hate the idea of him. But the reality of him made me feel like I had never been less invisible, like I was finally safe.

He asked me to join color guard, and then marching band, and because he had gone from nemesis to necessary in my mind, I made it happen. Well, we made it happen. In band—at least in our band—nobody was supposed to have to do it alone. I didn’t have to rely on my mother for rides to practice because Brett would pick me up, without complaint. Mr. Caffee said if we were five minutes early, in our places, ready to go, then we were on time. If we arrived at start time, we were late. Brett was never the kind to be late, so I was never late. It felt good to show up morning after morning and know I’d already done the first thing right. It felt good to know that Brett would always show, pulling into my driveway at the same time, every morning.

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