©2025 SammyC
CHAPTER EIGHT
Call me Gigi.
The State of New Jersey, in its infinite bureaucratic wisdom, has confirmed my “new” identity in this world so different yet so alike my own. Here, as if in answer to my fondest wish, I am a real, live girl. And I enjoy being a girl…so far.
It’s been two weeks since Uncle Richie escorted me to Parsons University Medical Center, where they poked, prodded, and scoped me to a fare-thee-well and discovered my DNA to be a reasonable facsimile of my mother’s and twin sister Regina’s. In that fortnight, Regina has joined the Rossington High cheerleader squad, thanks to Winnie and Dolores breaking legs while practicing “the pyramid.” In fact, Winnie won’t be returning to school until November, missing Homecoming. Even then, she’ll still be on crutches. Regina’s ecstatic about it. Both being a cheerleader and Winnie being absent from school. Because she has to practice with the squad most days after school, the task of walking Artie home from primary school has permanently fallen to me.
Oh, and I’ve started my senior year on the fourth Monday of the Fall school calendar. They unearthed Gigi’s transcript from Summit High School and put together a schedule of classes for me. This Gigi LeClerc was some sort of brainiac! Her GPA was beyond the moon but what scared the bejesus out of me were the three AP college-level courses I’d be expected to just sail through: Calculus, Physics, and French. I can just imagine all my free time having my head deep in textbooks, in print and online. Couldn’t I just be old average plodder Reggie?
In addition, an hour every Wednesday after school was reserved for sessions with Doctors Navidad and Loving. Out of the goodness of their hearts (and professional hubris), they were intent upon helping me regain my memories…all at no expense to me, my parents, or Uncle Richie’s health plan. My new attorney, who’s looking into my inheritance from the LeClercs, tells me there’s no way they can keep my miraculous reappearance from the media, since everything is in the public record. He actually rubbed his hands together when he speculated about offers for books and film treatments. Uncle Richie tried to make it clear that the less publicity and notoriety I received, the better it would be for my mental and physical health. The attorney nodded, somewhat unenthusiastically.
On the first Monday in school, the last of my six classes was “Healthy Relationships,” taught by Mrs. Barrington, whom I had bumped into on the hotdog line at the football game two weeks before. It had been an exhausting day, beginning with first period at 7:45AM, and now finishing with this 55-minute class as school dismisses at 2:30PM. In every class, students did a double take when teachers introduced the unexpected latecomer. It didn’t help that Regina and I only shared one class together…Healthy Relationships. By sixth period, I had rehearsed and perfected a tidy 2-minute speech that explained everything. Still, eyes rolled, and mouths gaped. And that was just the teachers.
“Last week we learned about gender stereotypes - the kinds of expectations people have about how men and women act. Those stereotypes definitely influence the choices we make in relationships and about our sexual health. Today we are going to talk more about relationships: how to have healthy and happy relationships, how someone might recognize if they are in an unhealthy relationship, and what kinds of communication skills can help us have the relationships we want.
Now, please open your notebooks, if you haven’t already…Billy, and jump on over to today’s lesson plan. Everyone ready? Okay. Complete the How I want to be treated by my boyfriend or girlfriend worksheet by ranking the most important words that represent how you would like to be treated by a partner and writing why your number 1 quality is most important. Work in the pairs I’ve assigned. I hope you’re sitting in the proper seats by now. Gigi, it’s kismet you’ve joined our class. We’ve needed someone to pair Tom Verlaine with. Poor Tom’s been working by himself for three weeks—”
“Yeah, that’s why Tom’s got hairy palms—” Billy shouted out. The class erupted in laughter.
“Billy, practice your stand-up act on your own time, please.” Mrs. Barrington scolded. “Gigi, you can scoot over and work with Tom. Thank you. I’ll give you five minutes to enter your choices, everyone.”
The qualities essential to a healthy relationship, in alphabetical order, were Equality, Good communication, Honesty, Respect, and Trust. After exchanging pleasantries with Tom, who I had already met waiting for George to emerge from the gym two Sundays ago, we discussed the words and ended up selecting different #1 qualities. Tom picked Trust and I ranked Respect #1.
Mrs. Barrington polled the class and ranked the responses on the whiteboard. Respect was the quality most of the class regarded as of paramount importance in a healthy relationship between young people who were dating.
“But the other qualities are important as well. How should we behave in a real-life situation? When issues come up between two people who are dating or in a serious relationship. Let’s do some role-playing. Let me see. Okay. Regina and George please work through the Marcus and Lillian scenario in the lesson plan—”
“Are we doing a gay couple first?” chuckled Billy. Scattered laughter died out quickly as Mrs. Barrington scowled at Billy.
“Billy, do you want to be sent to the Principal’s Office? Now, Regina please read the scenario out loud.”
“Marcus and Lillian have been going out for about 6 months. Marcus feels like he is really in love with Lillian. She is the prettiest girl he has ever dated, and she seems so smart. Marcus often feels nervous that he might lose her to another guy, since she is so pretty and smart. He doesn't think she would ever cheat on him, but he does see her talking with other guys sometimes. It makes him feel so jealous he doesn't know what to do. He told her that she needed to stop talking with those other guys, especially right in front of him! Lillian got upset with Marcus, and they had a huge fight. As they were arguing, Marcus felt so mad that he grabbed her by the arms to get her to listen to him and then threw his cell phone across the room, smashing it to pieces.”
“As Lillian in this situation, Regina, how would you feel?” asked Mrs. Barrington.
“First off, I’d be scared of Marcus. He grabbed me and then smashed his phone! I mean, he treats me like
I’m his property and wants to control what I do and who I talk to. That’s not someone who displays any trust in the other person…”
“And he’s unable to communicate his fears or his feelings,” chipped in one of the girls in class.
“He’s abusive!” All of the girls in class audibly agreed.
“And George, as Marcus, how do you view your behavior towards Lillian?” prompted Mrs. Barrington.
George hesitated, aware that the rest of the class anticipated his usual alpha dog attitude. Finally, he avoided Regina’s eyes as he answered.
“I think Marcus is genuinely in love with Lillian. But he’s insecure. Being jealous and fearing Lillian would ever cheat on him is more about his own insecurity, not his lack of trust. He’s not accustomed to feeling these strong emotions and is unable to express them to Lillian. He doesn’t have the words. And even if he did, he wouldn’t know how to communicate them. His violent anger is just his feeling of inadequacy boiling over. He would never really hurt Lillian.”
“Do you think Marcus really loves Lillian?” asked Regina.
For the first time, George locked eyes with Regina. “Yeah…he does. I’m sure he does. But…well…”
In the class discussion that followed, Mrs. Barrington shepherded her students to the following foundational edicts in building a healthy relationship:
• Treat partners with respect and fairness
• Treat each other as equals
• Be honest with each other
• Earn your partner’s trust
• Communicate clearly
• Never hurt your partner physically or sexually
“Alright, class. Let’s try another scenario. On this one, can I please have our newcomer, Gigi, read the Tony and Andrea scenario? Tom, here’s your first chance to participate in our role-playing exercises.”
In the hallway, after class, Regina hugged me unexpectedly as she ran off to cheerleading practice. Tom approached, smiling.
“How was your first day?”
“Exhausting. Now I have to go pick up my little brother from elementary school.”
“The good thing is it’s just across the street.”
“The bad thing is they let out at 3. I’ve got 20 minutes to kill.”
“I’m not in a hurry to get home. And there’s no band practice today—”
“Band? I didn’t think the school had a marching band.”
“Technically, we don’t. Mr. Palmer, our band director, is on maternity leave and the school couldn’t find a replacement for him this semester. Our other music teacher had to take his classes in addition to her own.”
“Shouldn’t Mr. Palmer’s wife be the one on maternity leave?”
“Oh, you don’t know, do you? Mr. Palmer’s husband is a long-haul trucker, so they decided Mr. Palmer should be the stay-at-home mom, so to speak. I think they used a surrogate.”
“And you used to be in the band? Why are you practicing now?”
“It’s my crazy idea. I got the administration to approve of a makeshift marching band with only 5 members. Trumpet, Mellophone, Saxophone, Snare, and Cymbals. I play trumpet. We haven’t made our debut yet. Maybe next weekend. There are only 5 more games this season. And Homecoming, of course.”
“Where do you find the time? Running track, playing in a marching band, and going to class—”
“And sometimes on weekends, I do some local gigs with my rock band.”
“What? A rock band too? I’ve never heard of a trumpet in a rock band.”
“I play guitar and keyboards too.” I stopped in my tracks and stared admiringly at him.
“It’s hard to believe you’re that multi-talented. Are you planning to attend Berklee already?”
“No, I’m not sure I’m even going to college.”
“Financial concerns?”
“Partly. No, I’m a-hankering to see the world, Miss LeClerc. I’d love to learn how to play the sitar in Mumbai or Yoruba Talking Drums in Nairobi.”
“Guess you’re not prone to homesickness.”
“Are you? After you graduate, you’d be emancipated. You could go back to Summit.”
“Home feels like a world away. Another universe. Literally.”
“I did a little detective work and found out you’re like genius level. Three AP classes and your GPA is 5! That’s the highest you can have. So, where are you applying to? Harvard?”
We were standing outside the entrance to Artie’s school, still ten minutes away from the dismissal bell. There were some parents and a few older siblings waiting as well, holding animated conversations or leaning against the iron gates. A school bus was parked on the curb at the ready.
“I guess you don’t have much free time, what with all your studies. It must take you three hours a night to do your homework.”
“Well, I’m free on weekends.” I don’t know why I blurted that out.
“No, you wouldn’t be interested, I’m sure—”
“I’d love to go hear your band play. Your rock band, that is.”
“Uh, no, I was thinking about asking you…”
“Yes?”
“If you’d be interested in being part of our marching band.”
“Silly boy, that’s something I’m absolutely useless at. I have a tin ear and I don’t play any instruments—”
“You’d be perfect as our majorette.”
“Me?”
“Yes. You’re beautiful and you’d look great in a majorette uniform. You’ve got legs that go on forever. Has anybody ever told you look a lot like Taylor Swift?”
“I don’t know what to say. I…I’m flattered. But I warn you, I have absolutely no sense of rhythm.”
“You’ll get the hang of it after a few practice sessions. It’s easy.”
Artie bounded out of the front door, waving goodbye to his little classmates and Miss Rowan. He grinned as he pointed at Tom.
“Hi, Gigi. You already have a boyfriend! What’s his name?”
I was just about to come downstairs and peel some potatoes in preparation for mom to mash them when she got home from work. I was very pro-active at doing good daughter things, unlike Regina. The front door slammed shut and Regina’s footsteps squeaked and thumped up the stairs to our bedroom. She burst in; her Rossington High sweatshirt pulled over her cheerleading outfit.
“Guess what?”
“I give up.”
“George bought me a Chocolate Chip Cookie Blizzard at Dairy Queen after practice!”
“He drove all the way to Rochelle Park?”
“It’s only 10 minutes away.”
“I was wondering why you were late getting home. Cheer practice is only 90 minutes, right?”
“Yeah, listen! George took me to Dairy Queen!”
“You sound like you’re back in middle school.”
“Well, that’s the last time George and I went to Dairy Queen. You must remember.”
“Sure, it was a Sunday after church service. His mom and dad treated me after mom took Artie home.”
“Well?”
“Well, what?”
“With Winnie down for the count, maybe I can win George back.”
“I wouldn’t read too much into a milkshake, Regina.”
“You’re supposed to be supportive. You’re my sister. I don’t think we have a healthy relationship.”
I was loading dishes into the dishwasher when our landline phone rang. Mom picked up the extension in the kitchen. After a few seconds, she turned to me, her hand over the receiver.
“It’s for you. Someone named Grant Moorefield. He says he’s a fan of Uncle Richie’s. Do you know him?”
I shook my head apprehensively. I’d never met him. At least not in my universe.
“Well, I’ll see what he wants…” I took the phone from mom’s hand.
“Hello, this is Gigi.”
“Grant Moorefield, Gigi. I’m coming to town next week. Would like to interview you for my podcast. You’ve heard of Strange Phenomena? I think you’ve got a story my audience would love to hear.”
THE END OF CHAPTER EIGHT