Arrival (Part 1)

“It’s complicated.” she said and left the jerk behind. Well, it was. And people had to learn to shut up and mind their own business, really. It was as if their lives were too pathetic, and so they have to become interested in others’ lives.

But she thought about it; her life was not as interesting. The thing everyone was ‘worrying’ about was something that had happened, like a thousand years ago. They were kids and they really didn’t know what they wanted and what they were doing. Unaware and ignorant kids. Usually, Kat was reprehended by her mom, whenever she criticized herself. And she did that often. It wasn’t going to end in suicide, though. She had self-control.

Sometimes she wished she’d have control over some others too.

She entered the class, and sat down. The bell rang. George sat down next to her. “Sup?” he asked simply, taking his stuff out, same as Kat. “Bad day.” Kat said in mid-sigh.

Not that her coffee had spilled on her dress, or something. She didn’t even drink coffee, because she hated caffeine and believe it didn’t really work. She didn’t even wore a dress to school. She couldn’t have woken up from the wrong side of the bed, because she was left-handed.

Turned out bad day, in school. She liked school definitely. Not that she was a nerd—okay, maybe she was—but the environment, it was good. Comfy, in a way, until today, definitely.

“What happened?” he asked. She didn’t know whether he was interested about what she felt, really, and so she kept concise. “Him.” She knew he would want a better explanation. But, later, definitely. That pronoun struck HER hard, anyway.

Him. It was last week, Friday. Who knew your whole Junior year could be ruined in just its second day, or third. Because it was certainly ruined, somehow, when someone opened the door, in Chem., and he entered cautiously.

She remembered how she felt, though she didn’t really want to. Clueless, because she didn’t know what to think or what to feel at first. Maybe it wasn’t even true. Maybe it was she sleeping and dreaming. But, she had to admit it. She had never fallen asleep in school before, and she had never drank so much alcohol as to have illusions—these kinds of illusions.

Whatever was standing on the door, and walking quite human-like towards the teacher, he had changed. Logically, he was much taller, and while she secretly thought about his age, she thought too when had been the last time she’d seen him. The 7th grade.

Coward, she thought, as she felt shivers and embarrassment spread through her body. Her face, it was hot, so she was turning red. Let nobody see, she thought. And so she lowered her head, and worked as a hypocrite. But she kept thinking about him.

She did her best to look around her desk, and see whether it was possible for him to sit next to her. All were full. That was good, right? Or did she want for him to sit next to her?
At first, she was certainly mad. Why didn’t she know he was back? Like, why the dramatic entrance in Chem.? She had the answer, unfortunately. After he went, in the 7th grade, they never really talked. Not that they couldn’t, they just didn’t want it. She felt sad and ashamed of herself. He once had been such a close friend of hers. And now, she felt, as he walked directly past her to the back, they were something worst than enemies—than the horrible couple they once had been.

Horrible might have been overreacting a bit. Not that anything seriously bad had happened. The goddamned 7th grade. Kids turned 13, and so they enter this new so-chaotic period in their lives, were they felt at the top of the world, and truly the only price they are winning is the one dealing with annoyance.

You’ve changed, Kat had to remind herself often. She certainly would have to keep it in mind, whenever she gathered enough guts and reasons to talk to him.

Then again, weekend was over, and nothing had turned out as planned. She was nervous and was certainly avoiding him, and everything to do WITH him. Then again, everything related to him expect he himself was not doing a good job avoiding her. She had suddenly become a magnet of what she hated the most. He was like banging against her at most unexpected moments in the hall, just that it was never him directly. Just some news or gossip or anything.

Did she hate him? How is it that you hated a person that you hadn’t talk to in…3 years? He had changed, certainly. But then again, what did she know? Maybe he still had that same….attitude of his. That bothered her so much. Which attitude?

She remembered. She had been molested by his form of being, but then again, she was loving it deeply. 3 years ago, she thought they were just perfect for each other. His challenging attitude, hers just the same, so unbeatable. Now she recalled with shame all these corny thoughts. It was like, what the hell had she been smoking?