Alex
I lied. It was equivalent to fooling myself. No matter how much I shrug her face out of my system, it crawls back with more force and clarity. I had only known her for a little and she already has that stubborn effect on me.
I still cared about her, if not I wouldn't be bothered about her yesterday. She was so vulnerable and hurt, it wasn't obscure anymore. Tyler and Karly have filled me in with so many tales about this school that now I felt pity for being a student myself.
Disgust clogged me when they proudly displayed their role play in making a person's life miserable.
Coming from a boy who is capable of damaging people beyond repair is called something along with the word hypocrisy. But even I know to respect the sanctuary of innocent people.
Taking pride in their pain was cowardice. And I could never be among them.
Elaine was the subject between the cafeteria tables wide up times. More than I could count on my fingers. Throughout all these scandals and gossip, the one thing that kept coding my observation was Tyler's extra celestial dislike towards her. He will confess his hatred for her, But won't celebrate others' perspective on her when they boasted it around.
A morsel of humanity?
Lunacy.
That's what it was. He wanted to have sole power over her. To break her enough so that it could raise him to the spot where he could stand atop of the pride chain shamefully.
Looking down at them.
The overwhelming emotion to see someone scrambled by their feet. Under their mercy. An unseen hold upon their life.
How was that good?
But then I question myself again.
Why was it so good all this time?
"Your shift is over Alex, you may leave now'' Mrs.Jean's strong and sharp voice-guided my last set of Books into their respective racks, On the library shelf. I turned to see her standing before me with a bubbling smile once I was done.
For a librarian she sure was liberal. But when did this school ever had a normal crowd?
"Yeah, I am done. Leaving now" I say simultaneously as I pick my backpack and hang it low on my shoulders.
"It's good to have you around son," she said waving her wrinkly thin fingers. Unsure how to bid a farewell I wiggled mine.
"Me too, trust me. It's good to be around myself too" I left with that, not regretful or paranoid of my decision.
On the second week, after I made those muck of friends, I know they were not the kind with whom I Should spend my whole day with. So a peaceful job at the library gave me back my peace of mind.
It was on run.
I kept finding excuses to be anywhere but at home or school. But as a teenager, those two places were something unavoidable. Like asking for a Nutella without chocolate. Or nut.
So I took the leisure time to burn all my credit cards. Freedom rushed through my blood as I destroyed the last straw which bonded me with my dearest father.
Still has the name white tagging along.
I groaned internally.
I took few strides out, admiring the trees and the blooming buds. They made me excited about petting my own set of a little garden in the backyard.
I like growing trees. So what if I was a guy?
The feeling of raising a life, watching them grow right before your eyes give you a sense of satisfaction. And when you help a segment to become healthy or save it from dying out? You are a hero.
I want to be a botanist someday. I can see myself in an atmosphere as such. Alone, working, and just existing.
As I was contemplating about my future waves of melody drifted across me.
My legs followed the voice like holding on to a thin thread as if being loud might cause the Symphony to vanish like a cloud. It was that subtle and sweet.
It came from the back of the library, too faint but clear. I rounded the whole structure and came to a halt at the final end. I awarded myself a peek to the side from where the sound was getting louder.
I don't care, I don't care so call me crazy
We can live in the world that we design.
Loss of words. It was common for me to opt for silence rather than talk. But when I witnessed something so diverse from someone who I was hauntingly sure that I had her figured out.
To be mean. Self-centered and most easily to shell it all was like me. Turn out I failed. I was wrong.
So wrong.
She sat there with headphones on and eyes closed. Singing like she doesn't have a care in this world. The dark grey shirt she was wearing contrasted the weather, she was like a reality surrounded by the world of illusion.
And her voice. She led them, coached them with every ounce of confidence. She knows what she was doing with it, every note, pitch, and cord hit the intended spot. With ease and passion.
But more importantly, what made it flawless was it felt like she sang it right through her heart. It was waves of pleasant memory for her. A beautiful memory. Like her voice. Like her.
Suddenly she opened her eyes, but I know she can't see me yet, I was shielded behind a wooden panel behind the statue-like thing. I don't even know what it was, it was that old and out of shape.
Every night I lie in bed
The Brightest colors fill my head
A million dreams are keeping me awake.
To my surprise, she took the next stanza with high vocals, if I hadn't heard that with my ears I wouldn't have believed it was her behind it. It was strong yet soft, determined yet innocent. It was perfect.
I think of what the world could be
The vision of the world I see
A million dreams it's all it gonna take
This was a new side of Elaine winters the world was not fated to see. But for me, I am never going to let this go.
I smirked and walked out of my hiding spot. For some reason, I wanted to join in her lyrics. To link myself in her thoughts even if it's for only a few seconds.
So I concluded the lyric. That is in a manner of a weather man announcing a mild storm by the coast east reading it of a screen.
"A million dreams for the world we're gonna make?" unlike the good old reputation of musical merge, my interruption made the atmosphere sound more like a genre blunder.
It was the intention. And I generally resound like such when I try to sing. Which reminds me that I never, do in fact sing or hum to myself. Just how boring was I?
Her song was interrupted mid-sentence, probably dying in her tongue after hearing my master piece of a note. Though I yearned for more, it was worth it to witness the look of bewilderment on her face. I crossed my hands across my chest and cleared my throat.
She still sat on the floor, mouth gaping open like a fish. But calm fish nevertheless. Those grey eyes appeared annoyed and speechless. Dumbfounded she plucks her plugs out and narrowed her eyes at me.
"You saw nothing, this is a dream," she said blinking, her lips clips in an unconscious pout.
"I saw everything and I don't think I can have dreamt anything better than this," I said honestly but kept the smirk up. Why? It was fun to see the ice queen squirm.
"Fine" she huffed "It's not like I care or I am scared"
I raise my brows and nod, mockingly as I accepted her confidence "You are not afraid that I am going to keep this on you?"
Her eyes met mine, glaring. " I am not scared of anything" she declared. But the intense part was I believed. But then I was also a well-raised jerk. So I had to do something about her sass.
"There's a spider on your shirt" I pointed out.
At first, she froze. Her eyes blank on mine. Then they widened, more as her lips parted, she breathed through her mouth in evident fear. She was startled. I was amused.
"Where the hell is it?" With that, a loud whine resonated as she jumped up on her feet trying to swipe away the non-existent spider off her. But later she saw the playful look on my face, she appeared torn between deciding to slap me or kick me.
I bet my laughter was heard by Mrs. Jean inside the library.
My ears felt the peculiarity as the sound of my mirth vibrated in the air. It had always been a rare sight for others to see me laugh or smile in general, except for a certain Asian boy who caused me to slip up a few occasions.
There were common questions regarding the lack of use my facial muscles endured by the students who had nothing better to do than pry over my life.
Those eyes and judgments were something I never gave a shit about. But my life, on the whole, was an entirely different story, it suffocated me.
So I escaped, somewhere they can never find me. Where I can try to mend the things I broke inside me, feel the emotions that died over the years, and have a life that could make me smile for real.
And surprisingly this crazy stubborn girl unknowingly made me achieve a few of the most important goals that I had In mind, by just being herself.
I bet if someone from my old school saw me cracking up like this, they would probably begin tracing the signs of world end in the future.
After the Fiasco. We both stared at each other. No words or actions justified what we were thinking. Yet we knew exactly what.
I walked, passing next to her, and sat in the spot where she did a minute ago, leaning my back against the tree like she was sitting a while back. Even copied her stance.
She stood watching me with an angry scowl, which in turn made her look cute.
"Are you following me?"
"Do you want me to? It's okay if you do. Most girls would too" Smirking I pluck out a cigarette from my pocket, I know this was going to irk her a lot. But framing it as my childish revenge, I carried on.
I intently watched her as I peck the bud in between my lips, ever so slowly smirking as her eyes lingered there for a moment.
She narrowed her eyes at me. "You smoke" It was not a question.
"Why yes? I do" I rose a brow. Stereotype. I bet she has already pictured me as some sort of gang dude or mafia prince.
But she was not far from it.
On contrary, she was far from what I was figuring out about her to be.
"I puked"
"What?"
"When I smoked for the first time with a friend a few weeks back I puked, the smoke reached corners of my lungs where it was not supposed to," she said scratching her neck as if recalling it was embarrassing itself, her lips twitched. And I realized it was the longest sentence she had ever said to me. As a normal conversation.
"Do you want me to teach you?" I asked suppressing a smile. I must be the only guy in the world to be offering a girl he admires, in a friendly way to lead her to a path for dying young.
Yes, friend. I don't know why I have to keep reminding myself about it.
Like an alarm going off on her head, her eyes widened. The grey specs going dark with some realization.
"No, I want to live. Thank you" with that she crouched to grab her bag that lay forgotten beside me. Her brown hairs curtained her face as both our faces came close, I held my breath. Forcing myself to swallow the smoke so it won't escape when we were so near.
She tilted her head with a warning look. I couldn't look away neither was able to decipher, My lungs burned and the stinging in my eyes were begging me to do something about it, to let some steam out.
"Millions of people die because of smoking, and it would be a shame if you were among them too" with that she left. Leaving me alone, and that's when the flood gates of cough erupted. Her words were on repeat as I could think of only one outcome.
She cared.
***
Wait for a second, you're at the 8th chapter? Then you must have seen some potential for the book. Please do click the star to make this girls day and comment your thoughts so far. This action of yours might just force my lazy ass to activate my supreme faster updating ritual.
Vote and comment.
Spread appreciation.