Two Turtle Doves

TURTLE (I)

I hate my name.

Nobody wants to be named Turtle. It’s like even at birth, my parents expected me to be slow.

And they were right.

I have to stay after class to finish my tests, stay up late to finish my homework.

I’m slow.

It is my destiny.

I’m short, because my growth is slow. I’m flat, because my development is slow.

And it’s safe to say that I’ll never be able to join track or cross country.

I’m slow.

And there’s this girl in my class.

Dove. I wouldn’t say she’s... popular. Actually, most people hate her. They think she’s some “gay trannie freak” (their words, not mine).

But I don’t hate her.

I guess I...

Nevermind. It doesn’t matter. I’ve never stood up for her, even though I want to. I’m too scared. Too cowardly. Too slow.

And she doesn’t care about me, anyway. I’ve never even talked to her.

And what would I say? Hi? Like your hair? What exactly does one say to an amazing being like that?

I don’t think there are words.

So I stay silent.

Silent and slow.

I’m a real damn turtle, ain’t I?

GROUP PROJECT (II)

It’s on Monday when my life ends.

I’ve always hated group projects. But a group project with her? With the best human being in the damn world? It’s a fucking joke. I don’t deserve that. I deserve to be partnered up with Gary Sullivan, the jock who picks his nose and doesn’t care who sees.

I deserve to be paired with someone as slow and useless as me.

Instead I get paired with Dove.

“Go ahead,” she says. I stare at her, uncomprending.

“What?”

“Tell me how I’m not a real girl, how you’d rather be partners with someone else, blah blah blah. Get it all over with so we can do the real shit.”

“I... uh...”

“Well? Spit it out.”

“I wasn’t... going to... say anything.”

Even my speech is slow. I can’t talk too fast or I stutter like a broken power fan.

“Oh yeah?”

Somehow, she looks shocked. Like everyone in this school is a jackass. I mean, most of us are. But I’m not. I’m slow, I’m stupid, and I’m ugly, but I’m not a bitch.

“Uh... yeah. No. I think....”

I look at the floor, suddenly wishing I’d never said anything.

“You think what?”

The pissed off stare has returned to her face.

Great, Turtle. Fucked it up again.

“I think... it’s cool. Like, you know who you are. That’s more than most of these assholes can say.”

For some reason, Dove all-out laughs. I don’t know why. I’m not that funny. But I like her laugh.

I’ve never heard it before.

“So... science project?” she asks, raising one perfect, dark eyebrow.

“Yeah. What is this shit, anyway? “Build an atom?” I’m pretty sure I did that in, like, grade school.”

“I know, right?” Dove laughs again.

Why is she laughing? My jokes are bad. Do I have something in my teeth?

Oh God, Turtle, what are you doing? What are you doing? You’re going to mess this up, you always mess things up, like your parents’ marriage, your friends, you always screw it all up.

“Turtle? You zoned out there for a sec.”

“Oh. Um. Uh. Sorry.”

“All good, bro.”

I like that she calls me bro. The slang feels good, rolling off her tongue like dewdrops down a blade of grass in the morning.

“So... I guess this project isn’t too hard, right?”

“Right. The hardest part is going to be picking which element. Any ideas?”

“You’re... you’re... asking me?”

“Well, yeah. You’re my partner, right?”

“Uh... yeah. Sorry.”

“Girl, you don’t need to keep apologizin’.”

“Sorry.” Fuck, why’d you say that?

To my surprise (again, why does she keep surprising me?) Dove laughs.

“You’re funny, Tee.”

“Tee?”

“Yeah. Like, the first letter of Turtle. That okay?”

“Oh. Uh. Yeah. That.... that’s.. clever. I like it.”

Dove smiles. “Thought you would. So... any ideas? For elements?”

I go through them all in my head. I memorized the periodic table last year. The only think I’m not slow at is science.

“Uh... I don’t know. I guess... Bismuth? That’s my... my... favorite... element.” I keep my gaze on the floor. What kind of weirdo has a favorite element? That’s just... odd. Strange.

Why didn’t she just pick some random ass element and make me do the work? That’s what anyone else would do. Why is she... nice?

“Yeah? Mine would be carbon.”

“The element of life?”

Dove smiles. “Hey, yeah. You know what’s up, Tee.”

“Th.... thanks.”

"Want to come over to my house and work on the project?"

"W-what?"

"Do you want to come over to work on this?"

"You... you're... not.... making me do everything?"

"Man, Tee, who hurt you?"

I don't smile. I just stare at the ground."

"It's all good, bro. I ain't making you my slave."

"Sorry."

Oh. Wait. No. She said to stop saying that. STOP SAYING THAT.

"So... three thirty work for you? Right after school? You don't have any plans?"

"No."

And I don't want to go home. Don't want to listen to my dad rant about how I'm the reason his marriage fell apart.

It's my fault Mom is a deadbeat whore. If I had been a better child, I could...

The bell rings.

I'm glad to get out of the classroom. Glad to get away from Dove. I'm too awkward. I should crawl back into my shell like the turtle I am.

Lunch.

God, how I hate lunch.

It's not that I sit alone. In fact, it's virtually impossible to sit alone. That's the problem. The place is swarming with people, and all I want is to be alone. For a while, I sat in the hallways, head down, sitting quietly, but then, people started coming up to me and asking me what's wrong, and I hated that. I just want to be left alone.

Find a table. Find a table. Find someplace empty where I can hide in plain sight. Let me fade into the background.

There. Close to the edge.

The good thing is, I can always beat the rush. Basically everyone buys lunch, so the line takes forever, but I don't bother with food. I'm not that hungry. Lunch is just my unwanted free period where I don't want to do anything.

Edge of the table is almost always empty. People gravitate towards the middle. Like they want to be the center of attention.

I let my long hair slide over my face like a curtain. My face is a window I don't want people to look into.

"Hey."

OH NO. OPERATION FAILED. I'VE BEEN SPOTTED.

Even worse: it's Dove.

"Uh.... hi."

"Anyone sitting here?"

"N-n-no."

Stop stuttering, you idiot!

"May I?"

"I... yeah... sure. Sorry."

Dove smiles. "No need to apologize, Tee."

"Sor.... shit."

Why does she laugh? I'm being an idiot. I'm a stupid slow idiot and why am I funny why is she laughing am I doing something wrong or could it be she actually enjoys talking to me no that can be right fuck I'm rambling I'm spacing out I—

"You eatin' anything, Tee?"

"N... no." I look at her.

"You aren't eating, either?"

"I'm vegetarian. And their salads are shit. I could pack, but..."

She doesn't need to finish. Everyone knows the unspoken code: only geeks and losers bring luchboxes from home. Almost everyone here buys. If you ain't buying, then you're a weirdo. So either you buy, or you go hungry.

She's vegetarian. That's cool.

"Vegetarian?"

"Yup. Just another thing that makes me weird. Another reason to be hated."

"I don't hate you," I blurt.

"Yeah? Thanks, Tee. I don't hate you, either."

Now that's surprising. I've done nothing but act like a weirdo this whole time. Why wouldn't she hate me?

"After school today?" I ask. Dove bites her lip like she has bad news. "Sorry, but I've got other plans, can you just do it for me?" That's what I expect her to say.

"Yeah. But, uh... one thing. Don't... don't talk to my dad. Please?"

"Okay."

I don't ask why.

I wouldn't want her talking to my dad, either.

People have their reasons.

Maybe her dad's a homophobic jerk. Maybe he's abusive.

Or maybe he's just embarrassing and I have a dark imagination.

But the fear in her eyes... that's not imagined.

I'll leave it alone.

"Tee?"

"Yeah?"

"We'll do Bismuth."

"Why... not carbon? You.. said... uh—"

"Hey, I can't get my way all the time, right?" She smiles.

I've never seen her smile this much.

To be fair, I don't look at her very often. I mostly look at the ground. Too embarrassed to see what she's doing. Because that's creepy. I think. How would I know?

Whatever.

"Th... thank.. you."

Dove looks off towards the other side of the cafeteria. I wonder if she sees a girl she likes.

We don't say anything. We just stare off, both of us thinking about our own things.

Or maybe we're thinking the same things.

Some people hate silence. They rush to fill it with loud music, chatter, voices, tapping, rapping, anything.

Not me.

Silence has always been comfort.

Because whenever people aren't silent, they're saying something mean.

Sometimes, I wish I was deaf. I wish the world was silent. I could be as slow as I want and people would just blame it on my "disability." Sorry I turned in my test late, I didn't hear you say we could start. Sorry I'm late to class, I didn't hear the bell.

Silence is easy.

HOUSE & HOME (III)

"Nice house."

Honestly, the house is basically the same as mine. Just another boring suburban dreamland.

But just because it's boring doesn't mean it's not nice.

I happen to like boring.

"It's nothing special," Dove says. "Here, follow me."

I pretend not to notice the way she creeps up the stairs, fighting not to be heard.

I pretend not to notice the way her eyes dart in the hallway like a hunted animal.

I pretend not to notice the way she closes her door with a careful precision.

I pretend not to notice the way she sighs with relief as soon as we're safely inside.

I pretend not to notice all of these things, but I notice them. I notice and I file these facts away.

"So," I say. "Bismuth. 83 protons. Neutral atoms are easier, but ions get us extra credit."

"I always go for the extra credit," Dove says. I don't tell her that I do, too.

"Bismuth can... can only.. make a +3 ion. I... think. I'm... pretty sure. So... 80 electrons."

"80 is a nice number."

"Y... yeah."

"Sorry, that's weird."

"N... no. Not... really. Lots of people... have favorite numbers. Like... I like 21."

"21? Drinkin' age, huh?"

"I.. I guess."

"I'm teasin', Tee. Relax. I ain't gonna hurt you."

"S-s-s-sorry."

For the first time, the silence isn't comforting.

"Tee," Dove says gently. "You got nothin' to apologize for. I'm no monster, I ain't gonna bite."

"I...."

"s' alright."

"Listen. How about next time, we pick a different place."

She looks at the ceiling. I keep my eyes on the floor.

"N-not my house. Please. Like... a park, or something."

"Hey, a park. That's a good idea, Tee. But... it's hot out."

"Oh."

"Coffee shop? You like coffee?"

"No, not really. But... chai tea is good. Like, Chai lattes."

"Ooh, I know a place with a really good chai latte. C'mon, let's go."

"N-now?"

Dove looks at the ceiling again.

"Yeah. If, well, that's okay. It's close. We can walk."

"Okay. Yeah. Okay."

Dove smiles. "Prepare to have your taste buds blown."

I realize I didn't take my shoes off. Oops. Just another mistake on my list.

I wish...

Doesn't matter. Wishes don't matter. Work, that's what matters. Work and efficiency. I have neither.

Dove looks at the ceiling one last time as we walk down the steps.

I wonder what kind of monster is hiding in her attic.

I wonder what kind of monster is hiding inside me.

CHAI LATTE (IV)

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap-tap-tap. taptaptaptaptaptap. Tap. Tap.

My leg bounces on the seat. Is this a date? Does Dove like me? Who am I kidding? Of course she doesn't like me. Nobody likes me. She's forced to work with me, that's all.

She's right, though.

This place has good chai lattes.

"So, we're doing 80 electrons."

"Yeah."

"How many shells, again? Five? Six?"

"Six."

"Eh, I was close."

"Yeah."

"Hey Tee?"

"Yeah?"

"I wish I had your name."

"My name? Why? You wanna be slow?"

"No. It's... it's gender neutral. My deadname is David. Not really gender neutral at all."

"But you changed it to Dove, so you must like it."

"I do. I like it. But I wish I'd been born with a gender neutral name. Would've made things easier."

"Yeah, I bet."

"Besides, not all turtles are slow. I mean, sea turtles can swim like nobody's business. And there's turtle doves. People always say turtles are slow, but it's just not true."

"Turtle... doves. Like... my name and yours. That's... funny."

Dove smiles. "Yeah, you're right. Honestly, I like turtle doves. They're my favorite animal."

"Cool. I.. like... dolphins."

"Dolphins are badass. They can kill sharks, man. Everyone's so scared of sharks, and they tend to see dolphins as these cute innocent creatures, but they can take down great whites. Pretty damn cool."

"Yeah."

We started working, our conversation wandering like a lost cat in the woods. We got all the planning done. All that was left was buying materials, and we split that evenly. Each of us was only spending a little over 5 bucks. Wire for the electron shells, pom poms for protons and neutrons, beads for electrons.

And glue, but I already have tons of that. And Dove already has pom poms. I'm buying beads and she's buying wire.

Easy enough.

Although I do hate asking my dad for stuff. He always complains about how I always get whatever I want and never work for it.

I could steal a five from him.

Not hard. Morally ambiguous, but not difficult.

And I'm already a failure, so what do I care about morality?

The hardest part will be walking to the store. I'll have to walk from school, school is close to all the shops and stuff. I can probably find a decent craft store that sells cheap plastic beads.

But I need to get fit anyway. Walking'll be good for me.

Dad gets home soon. Fifteen minutes, give or take. He gets off at four, fifteen minute commute, but he always takes an extra thirty minutes to get home.

Fifteen minutes to find his cash stash.

If I wasn't so slow, I could do that no problem. As it is, I'll be cutting it close.

People always say turtles are slow, but it's just not true.

I find his cash under the bed. Sort of a dumb place to put it. That's the first place to look.

Just a five dollar bill. I can bring a few dollars of change just in case, but if I steal any more than a five, he'll notice for sure.

I slide it back into place just as the garage door opens.

I'm still buzzing from the sugar and caffeine in the chai latte, so I'm safe in my room reading some random paperback by the time he gets inside.

"Turtle, you'd better be home!"

"I... am... Dad."

"Don't you use that tone with me!"

I curl into a ball. I wasn't trying to be a smartass. But with Dad, silence is always the best option. Silence and hiding.

I curl against my bed, money clenched in my fist, hoping dad won't come in yet knowing he will.

I stuff the money under my mattress and stare at the door, trying to focus on the book in my hands.

The words blur together, sugar dissolving on a page of water.

I realize there are tears in my eyes. Why? Why am I crying?

I'm not sad. Not at all.

I'm crying because this is the best day I've had in a long time.

A really long time.

SUPPLIES (V)

Two days later, we meet at the same coffee shop with our supplies. Dove strings the electron beads onto the wires with deft fingers while I glue together pom poms.

83 protons is a lot of pom poms. Not to mention the neutrons. With a mass number of 209, there are 126 neutrons.

We definitely should have done carbon. It's smaller. Easier.

"Sure are a lot of electrons," Dove says. "And protons. And neutrons."

"We shoulda done carbon," I say. "Sorry."

"Nah, Tee, I like a challenge. Besides, Poor Mr. Cancer Stick is going to bust his ass trying to grade this." I can't help it— I laugh.

"Cancer Stick?"

"Hey, I make up nicknames for everyone. I saw Mr. Carter out smoking outside the school one day and I figured Carter and Cancer start with the same two letters, so: Cancer Stick."

"That... that's.... genius." I smile.

"Ey, Tee. I think that's the first time I've seen you laugh."

"S... sorry."

"Ain't nothing to apologize for, girl. It's great. You got a great smile. You should show that shit off."

"Thank... thank you."

"It's looking good, yeah?"

"What?"

"Our atom. Looking good."

"Oh. Yeah. It is. Yeah."

I blush as I look at the ground.

I'm really bad at this. I'm messing up all over the place. The words don't come out right. I'm awkward, both with my voice, my words, and my actions.

I wish this could just be over so Dove could go back to ignoring me and I could go back to being alone and I didn't have to cry tears of relief anymore.

Why is this the closest I've ever been to happiness?

And why do I want to give that away?

DUE (VI)

This past week has been... good. I guess. I like hanging out with Dove. But it's all over now. We turned in the project. We're done now. No more fake coffee dates. No more jokes. No more lunches together.

I don't know how I feel about it. I mean, of course I'm relieved. I'm glad I don't have to worry about social interaction.

But... I can't lie. I'll miss her.

It's fine. It's all fine. It doesn't matter. None of it matters. I like being alone. Love it, in fact. Everything is back to normal. That's good. I'm good.

But my head feels heavy when I go to lunch. My whole body feels heavy. I drag my feet. I almost run into about six different people, and by the time I sit down, my face is flushed with embarrassment.

"Hey, Tee."

"W-w-w-what?" She catches me by surprise, so I don't have time to control my stutter. "H-h-huh?"

"Girl, you didn't think I was gonna stop hanging around just cause the project was over, did you?"

Silence is my only answer. It's the best answer.

"Oh. You did. Sorry, Tee. You aren't getting rid of me that easy. I like you, girl."

Sorry, Turtle can't come to the phone right now. She's locked herself into her own mind and she's currently internally screaming with joy. Leave a message and she'll get back to you, unless she's finally broken from reality and all of this is a dream.

"You... you do?"

"You're fun to be around."

"N... no way."

"Yes way. I haven't laughed this much in ages. And everyone else at school is a dick. Okay, maybe not everyone, but you know what I mean."

"Uh... yeah."

"And you're so scared all the time, and I'm a nosy bitch and I just want to know why. You always apologize, but I should be apologizing to you. I'm loud and I'm awkward and I talk without thinking and—"

"Huh? Wh-what're you talking about? You.... you're perfect the way you are. You know who you are and you don't let anyone change you. People are shitholes to you and yet you still seem so confident. I... could never come out. I'm a turtle. I hide in my shell and I'm slow and..."

STOP TALKING YOU STUPID—

"You're none of those things," Dove says.

And suddenly everything just grinds to a halt.

I'm... not? I'm not slow? Not a coward?

"You're... you're like a turtle dove. You fly. You soar above everyone else."

"You're a turtle dove too, then. I mean..."

"Then I guess that's us, man."

"Huh?"

"Two turtle doves. Like the song."

"Two turtle doves, huh?"

"Yeah."

"You know, doves are the symbol of love."

"Y-yeah, I know."

"That's why I chose my name. Dove. Because love is love, you know?"

"Y-yeah. R-right."

"Hey Tee?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you be my turtle dove?"

Don't speak. Don't speak. You'll ruin the moment.

Say something. Respond. Reply. Tell her.

"Yeah, Dove. Yeah."

Two turtle doves.

I can get behind that.

I'm not a turtle. I'm not a slow useless pile of flesh.

I'm a turtle dove, dammit. And I want to fly.