Friday, March 28, 2008

Revision

The climate had first bothered me, but now it was really affecting me. The humidity and instability of the place were an influence too. The ecosystem itself was something amazing, and there was so much green and variety, and it was beautiful. But its niceness was rubbing off, cause I had sat there, looking at it for…what was it? My stupidity amazed me. Okay, maybe it wasn’t that I was stupid. Maybe it was reasonable to start forgetting about your past and time when the present and the near future completely sucked. And I had been stuck in the present long enough to believe my past to be some sort of dream, anyway. And so as I made progress through the jungle—or I hoped to—I tried hard enough to ignore everything that was molesting me, which was much. The humidity made my clothes stick to my body with such pressure as a lost child, and the heat was something like I’ve never felt before.

I was never used to experiencing heat, because I didn’t have to. I used to live in the city, where the weather was everything but balmy and sticky. If it ever annoyed me, was because it was certainly too cold. Not that that worried me too much. If you’re cold, you might as well stick around in your house and drink hot chocolate and sleep like a bear till cold’s over. Now, that’s something you can’t do with the heat. Unless you’re valiant enough to take off your clothes in whichever place you happen to be, when heat strikes. I looked around. Just dense jungle. There wasn’t anyone around that I was aware of, and so I could take my clothes off…just that I didn’t want. It’s not my fault that I’ve been living all my life clad and I’ve gotten used to it. Not my fault either that I didn’t want to feel all Tarzan-like.

All my life. I sat down on a nearby trunk, and tried to feel its texture as if it were a welcoming and comforting first class airplane seat or something. I tried to ignore its roughness, and the fact that trunks are home to more than a thousand bugs each. Relax, Relax. Then, I think that the live that I’m currently living, I really don’t deserve it. Why did I get did? Bad luck, I guess. Cause I wasn’t much of an awful person. I’m still not that bad, I’m trying to relax despite the conditions I find myself with. I went to church on Sundays, before, and I did social work whenever I was asked to. I think I’m pretty average. Compared to the rest of the world, there are billions of people that give a damn of charity or the less fortunate. I cared, and I thought about them, from time to time. Hell, I did. I was never, too, a great consumer. I placed my socks and shirts in the same drawer, and I never brought crackers or gum just because I felt like. I did my own laundry, and people said I smelled funny. Hey, at least there was no water going to waste.

I was never mean to anyone, except to the people that tried to steal my lunch in the Elementary School. I think about them. What’s of their lives? What have they been up to? Robbers, I say. Because all their money, they ate it, somehow. And so, if robbers, why aren’t they punished? Why aren’t they here with me?

Perhaps the women, perhaps they wanted to punish me. Because I never felt like marrying anyone. Perhaps they are loved me, secretly, and so here I am, lonely and ----.But, no. To marry or not, it is more a personal choice, it isn’t bad, much less a reason to punish someone. Truly, they were probably married already to that someone who’s karma hasn’t been as badass as mine.

Suddenly, I remember. 14 years. 14 years ago, I had been able to live within life, the one deserved. And so I depress myself being logical. In 14 years, millions of babies were born, and hectic infants became notorious teenagers. People died. Someone whose determination is infinite might have been able to cure cancer. Maybe there were people living in Mars already. Maybe humanity had discovered some other long lost place, or invented a bug repellent that actually worked. Perhaps carrots and cows had become extinct, and now people had to find other ways in which they could eat calcium. New elements might have been discovered, cannibalism might have been legalized, and maybe gravity had decreased. Maybe California was known as Lake California, and Miami was now Atlantis the Second. Maybe, my sister had found a man that she loved.

No, she wouldn’t. And I could spend twice the time here, and she’d be getting better at finding men’s flaws. Supposedly, we had many. I’m glad I remember my sister. I admit she was the one, her face, who encouraged all this. The escape, the force, energy and determination I had needed. She had guided until now. But, for the instant present, I was seating on the comfy trunk, trying to find warmth and happiness within my messed head and melancholic thoughts. The last time I saw her, she as 19. She was totally reckless, and didn’t even try to play hard to get, because she was. Studies were 3rd on the list, just beneath party and list-making. Cause she was very organized. I remember once that I was mad at her because I was studying and the odor of a burned surprise birthday cake had filled in the house, my room uncomfortably. It was my birthday, but I had to study. Mom was out, and dad was somewhere working. She got even angrier, and said that she was trying so hard, and that I was being mean to her. She wasn’t the best cook, and everything she did was too just-had-an-awesome-idea improvised. She had the mind, but lacked a bit of talent, as I mention cooking. It was the first goddamn salty cake I’ve ever had.

Now, amid the jungle, I’m too old and wretched to cry in despair. But I think. How I would like for my life and death and resurrection and marriage and graduation to smell of that cake, rather than be filled with never-ending solitude—and goddamn pureness. Heat was surprisingly good when we were at the beach, in vacations, and she would chase me around with some hideous creature at hand, holding it gingerly, as if it were a soft puppy. Somehow, she grew up to be much manlier that me, because I never dared to touch one of those. I would’ve liked to touch them, though, before my death someday. She seldom cried and felt sad, but when she did, it was something similar to like the end of the world. She would bang her head—against her pillow, thank god, but tears flushed down her face for a long time, like an uncontrollable damaged squeaking shower. So unlike me, because I felt sad to commonly, and yet I never cried as much as she did.

This might sound corny. The day, the day it happened, we were walking towards campus, and she accelerated, and caught up with a group of people. I lit a cigarette, and kept going at my own pace, looking nowhere interesting. She’d always been socially capable, but not me. In the park, when the big boys of the time came and menaced us off the swings, I turned around, and walked humbly towards the slide or something. I loved swings. She didn’t, but she wasn’t about to let some obese kid remove her from where she wanted to be.

It was the only time she’d ever injured someone in the physical sense, but the kid was coward enough to run away weeping, and yet good enough to not tell his mom about it. From under the trees, sort of, I crept, and she rolled her eyes and smiled foolishly. I felt gay and incapable, but then again, we have our strengths and talents. We stayed in the swings for the rest of the afternoon.

I was soon distracted by my busy mind, and the nicotine, and sometimes heard shrieking and laughter. I smiled sort of, feeling happy for my sister. I hadn’t notice this car going so slowly, so close to me, right behind me, till it finally stopped and I was somehow obliged to stop too. First, I didn’t feel fear at all. Thinking for the passenger to be some sort of lost tourist (inside a huge black Volvo, right), I peeked inside expecting the dark window to lower down, but the door opened, and I was hit in the leg. Had I complained about this pain louder, she and her friends would’ve heard. But I didn’t.

Taking advantage of my leg, the back door opened and two huge guys lowered from the car, cause it was actually pretty tall. I recalled the bullies in the Elementary, or the wannabe Jocks at college, as if those people were playing some sort of prank on me. Not that I’ve ever seen them worrying completely black outfits, with scar and gloves included. These guys, they growled too. It was weird, but I was dumbfounded. The guys approached me and each grabbed me by the arm, and my muscles tensed as if I was a kid again, stalking the girl I used to like, the blonde one who made me get all tensed. One of the guys, the smaller one, neared his head right next to mine, and said softly; get in the car. So they were like forcing me, believing they looked like nice people to talk to and reason, or something. I shook my head, as if the nice ones would let me free if I didn’t. The inside of the car was darker, and it was creepier too, and there was this other guy seating by the window. He looked at me demandingly, as if about to grab a gun and shoot me or something.

The bullies, one of them kicked my leg, and now both were weak. Thanks, I think of saying, hoping these guys were stupid enough to not know about sarcasm. I am mounted in the car whatsoever, and surprisingly I am not shaking aggressively, like a hungry beast being chained or something.

Seating between two huge guys, and as if there wasn’t enough blackness, one of them placed this scarf-like things surrounding my eyes. Not much trembling or violence neither. I just sat there, my thin body being really squished.

Friday, March 14, 2008

Arrival (Part 8)

Outside, she saw someone walking towards her house. And he approached. Just as if seeing him in school every day wasn’t a sufficient surprise and hard to deal with.

Kat grasped her breath for a moment, and tried to calm down. She couldn’t look like some kind of freak. She wanted to go back inside and hide like a coward she was, as soon as she recalled were they had left off at school on Friday.

The Sometime Reunion. Right. The one she herself had planned out of the blue. And now it seemed he was kind of eager about it. So eager that he had walked all the way from his house, to her house. Now, that was compromise.

“You remembered.” Kat said warmly, referring to the location of her house, where he used to go sometimes—all the time. Her hands urged her to put her hair in place, and to arraigned her not-adequate-for-meeting-someone sweater.

“Well, yeah. You get used to it, after you’ve visited the place long enough.” he flashed a smile. Kat smiled back sweetly. She sat on the yard, and he did the same. Kat was freaked a bit, by such the short distance at which he sat from her. She didn’t even think twice, about which topic to put up. Because seriously, she couldn’t support more than a second of silence, with him.

“You know, the other day, I thought about the pencil, the day we met. Remember?” she said. She was just doing it to stop the awkwardness. See where the old times would take them. Not that she had thought about the pencil, though she was embarrassed to admit she had actually kept it.

“Yes, the pencil. That was in 6 grade right?”

“Right, when we met.” Kat nodded and smiled. She sort of hated herself, as a Newbie in the Middle School. Then again, she kind of hated herself, always.

“I liked spending time with you, you know. All the things we did, back when we were young and frolic." she decided to say, and realized when it was too late, that is was sort of a compliment. She didn't feel as to walk around telling people nice things. It was too...frolic.

He chuckled. This was cool. She loved this laugh of his, specially liked the ease in which they could talk, and was grateful for all the time they’d spend together, which now gave them a chance to talk about their past together. Alright, she had missed him. “I remember how we used to chug Coke and chocolates, and then we’d complain about tasting like sweet corn.”

Ew. Yeah, she remembered. “Corn, yeah. I stopped doing that, after you left.” she said freshly, and then, she realized she shouldn’t have said it. The Leaving Part, yeah, not something nice too talk about. So she shut her mouth, and thought doing something totally stupid as offering something to eat. It seem she was saying things she shouldn't be saying at all. But then again, was that worse than not speaking at all?

“Yeah. Hey, but we’re not that old yet. We can still frolic, you know.” he said optimistically. She noticed he was doing his best at ignoring that last chapter, too. And what did frolic exactly mean for two teenagers? Nevertheless, Kat didn’t want to waste her time getting all red because of those dirty thoughts. Not like he wanted to do that, though. He surely meant, eating chocolate and drinking Coke...again. He surely meant…um…getting together…again…?

“Kat, I would’ve liked to had stay here, to grow up with all you.” Kat knew he was referring to HER, but decided to ignored the, um…compliment. She nodded. Awesome timing and...out-of-the-blue topic. “But you’re back now, so enjoy it.” she’d seemed to have gotten much more happier than she’d been—in 3 years.

“Yeah, I know. But you know what has been bugging me a lot? How things ended. That didn’t help me to be quite satisfied during my time away.” Okay. So he wasn’t willing to avoid that part as much as her. But if it was time to realize one’s flaws… “Yeah, me neither. I’m sorry for being so difficult.” Kat admitted. She had been a bit stubborn, as to hide her sadness, or something. “Yeah. I’m sorry for being so cold-hearted.” he agreed. “It’s okay. You were just as surprised as I was for leaving, probably.” because at least, it had gotten to her by surprise.

Thursday, March 13, 2008

The End of the World

The world around me is white, and it is big, and I am around my people. It is very organized, and we have been assembled in groups, divided by our own cabins. Above me, there is another level, and there are beings much bigger than I. They are hollow too, and transparent. In front of me there are other beings, and they are thin, and I can’t see their entire face. They are formed in lines. The odour in the air is not decent, and I can conclude therefore that we haven’t been washed in days. Despite our organization, some of us are tied together, uncomfortably. I wonder what the hell will happen when everything is not white anymore, and we go in darkness..

Everyone is very clueless and some of us are scared. I stay calm. We can’t move, no. We can’t run. I look around and there is no exit, no light. What calls my attention is a noise that starts. It is very peculiar and it is increasing.

Like something flowing. Everyone is unsteady and we are looking desperately around. We bang against each other, struggling, and as we hit ourselves, our ears tremble uneasily. We try to stay as still. But the noise becomes louder, and we can’t just ignore it anymore. We’ve never known to be too optimistic, anyway. Hell, we’ve never been known for anything at all.

I listen hard. Something seems to be moving fast, somewhere, here inside. Like flowing. It might not be safe, but it’s refreshing, it’s cool.

Some of us, they are willing to defend themselves with their knives and their spike, but some of us, and me, we are helpless. We try to protect the small ones, and it is sort of satisfying to know that the hollow and plain beings, are scared too.

The air becomes humid, and my eyesight is blurry. Everyone is even more desperate, because we are enclosed, so many of us in such a small space. I start sweating, and the bad smell doesn’t help at all.

For a moment, I am focussing on my state, rather than the noise enclosing me. But it’s becoming much louder by the second. Everyone gasps in chorus as our bottoms are wet. The water is surprisingly hot. Some of us try to jump, but we can’t. We have humidity surrounding us, and there is not much we can do. Everyone is shouting, and so the gasps and mourns, they don’t help decrease the heat.

I am burning, and I think everyone is too. The water, the noise becomes louder, it is rushing up, each time faster. Soon only my giant head is safe. But not for long. The water level rises, and soon our cabins are completely enclosed by boiling water. The hollow ones, un top, soon the water reaches them too. Some more shouts, and I am trying to resist.

The tension increases as the water moves faster among us. Faster, faster, and soon I can’t feel the pain. I am quiet and still and just wait for this to finish. I get dizzy because there is a loud buzz, and just water.

Suddenly it seems the water stops moving, and it starts to drain. The hollow ones, they are the first ones free. Then, the water reaches our level again, and I can stick my head out. There is not much I can see, because we are still in darkness. Now I can only hear sighs, and everyone is being suffocated with suspense and nervousness. No one is breathing sort of. We all hold strength within ourselves and try to think about what might follow.

I start feeling cold. And knowing that a second or so ago, I was dying of heat. But the air turns so cold, and the water runs down my thin body, and I surprisingly miss the hot water of before. The odour is gone, but we are all trembling softly, and still molest each other. A new noise arises, and this goes softer. It’s like a buzz all over again, though. Should we have hairs in our heads, they’d be quite unstable and frizzy, I think with a bit of humour.

Then there is no more buzzing, and I am not cold anymore. Another type of sound is produced, and for a second I am scared, till I see the huge door opening. I look at everyone. We are too surprised to notice how clean we are now. How sudden perfection followed such disaster. The hollow ones and the plains are clean too. They look around though they can’t move much, but at least we are happy. We are sighing in relief, and glad for the odyssey to be over.

“Mama!” Someone shouts from the outside. “The washer is done! The dishes are clean!”

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

Amid Gloom and Jungle (In Class, Part 2)

*The first part of this story is posted in this blog, in February.

My first reaction, I try to run away. I look around. I’m not in a cage, and the men seem distracted enough in whatever they were doing. I wonder, what did they do? Not like there is much fun around the jungle. But then, I become logical, despite the heat and impatience, I seat down. They’d kill me if I make a violent move. Where could I really go? Where the hell was I, now? They could run after me. So, contradicting my mighty self, I sit down, ashamed.

My second thought, I’m angry at the world. Anger and desperation, as I have never felt them before. The world. Ignorant little brats, who are living their daily lives, and ignoring me so. Some of them are laughing, some of them are buying a car, and all of them are happy. And I, seating here sharing my oxygen and space with bugs and God knows what else. Bugs are abusing of my sharing. I want to be with the brats.

Because, after all, I was one of them too. I had been, until a couple of hours ago. There is no reason to get angry. There is, but not at them. I think about it, and maybe, I do deserve this. There were already people here. What about them? Had you ever thought of them? Not really.
I even knew they were here. During the last years, headlines containing the word Kidnap in them had become common and not so shocking anymore. Not like I ever thought it would happen to me.


But now I am, and I don’t care admitting it, and I know I’m wrong, and I am extremely angry. Maybe at myself, too. For being risky. It wasn’t risky. It was the street I’ve been walking in for my past life, always. I didn’t know it was dangerous.

Had I been a little more convincing and hard, I guess I would’ve killed myself. I’m glad I didn’t, I now realize, sitting in the trunk. Green, green, green. The only difference is that I am alone and hungry. But it is better this way, rather than being emotionally-lonely, in danger, and a little hungry. Though now I’ve rather have clean oxygen, than rotten shared bread. It is better.

I need to plan what the hell I want to do. When I took this wise choice, and actually made it come true, I didn’t think of what I was going to do later on. What I was going to eat, or entertain myself with. It was reasonable. When you’re about to do something extremely risky—not that I would do something like that again—your mind has to be all focused. I don’t know if it’s true, that we humans use only ten percent of our brains. If it is, I know I used 10 percent point 5 percent that day, that second, that crucial moment, which would change my life back again. I believe that was the type of concentration an A plus in SATs would require.

What helped me do it, was regret. The regret I would feel deep inside me, if I didn’t do it. I would’ve end up killing myself of desperation, but then again, I would be too coward to kill myself. And so I did it.

Friday, March 7, 2008

Arrival (Part 7)

It happened to her, that sometimes, she would rather stay home and do something boring and lonely, than go out and hang out with her friends. It wasn’t as entertaining, but it was so much better, and calm.

Thing that happened that Saturday afternoon, and it started to rain some. Kat found a couple of old magazines under her bed, and somehow thought of them to be better than
T.V., in such a day.

She was skimming the ads, and was too distracted to start reading articles, with their
too-small fonts and endless sentences. Old magazines. Their news so antique, things that felt as if they had truly happened a million years ago. Things unimaginable today.

Kat thought about the times in which she begged her mom to buy her each of these editions, that she kind of looked at for one time, and then they just seemed like any other old magazine. All these articles had seemed to be like an ideal manual for staying alive. It was at the beginning of her teenage years. The 7th grade. Funny, just when the reason why she was buying these stuff as crazy decided to godamn leave.

And so they turned out to be useless, and now serve to Kat as a lame memoir she’d rather not remember.

The dust and the non-admittance with herself seemed to get suffocating and each time more, and so she ran downstairs and not cared whatsoever about the little water falling. Her family was each distracted into something else, so nobody asked and she was grateful.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The view from his window was nothing breathtaking, and any other person would have taken the street and trees and bushes for granted. But not him. Not when he had just arrived form literally another world. Seriously, nothing against Russia. Their culture was interesting, and so the views were the different and the cities too. But he was home again. Same house, same environment. Same people. People he knew and missed.

He was sitting in front of his desk, looking out instead of doing what he was supposed to be doing. He never had seen what people liked to much about biting the pencil near the edge, while zooming out or daydreaming. And so he had nothing to do with his hands. He let happiness and satisfaction erase the boredom, and thought for a moment about her.

Kat. Somehow, they both had connected on the first days they had met, in Middle School. Then he left, and now he was back, and they had talked yesterday. He hated the past, this certain past. It embarrassed him deeply, to think about his way of acting, how he made things end, before he went. Unconscious.

It was still kind of early. The heavy and unsteady snoring of his brother wasn’t helping him in someway, reason why he stood up, looked for a good jacket, and headed out. There was a bit of rain, and he didn’t want to waste money on a cab, so he walked. He thought about the street number, and it wasn’t too hard, though. He felt somehow proud for not forgetting about it, but then cursed himself, for seeming a stalker too much.

While walking, he thought about it, a couple of times, of simply turning back, and not doing this. It would’ve been monotonous and stupid. But he didn’t even understand what he wanted to do. She said they should talk. Not like she specified the place and time. He would, certainly as soon as he arrived and met her.

He considered for her not to be there, but then it was impossible. He felt he knew her…still…a bit. He tried to look as casual and as not-that-I-wanted-to-see-you as possible. He didn’t want for Kat to see how uncomfortably direct was this intention of his.

About the most recent conversation they’ve had. She didn’t seem as excited. But she shouldn’t be. He hoped that maybe she did realized that he was still interested…because he was. They definitely had to talk again. He was almost there. The walk was about 15 minutes. He felt exhausted, when he finally approached the familiar street, but rather because he was chocking with goddamn nerves.

Thursday, March 6, 2008

Arrival (Part 6)

“Kat…hey.” he said, and the things that Kat pictured that were about to happen, the busy hall was just no scenery. He had been actually capable. Of going straight to her and talking. No MSN, no phone. For a moment Kat was worried, about what the other people might say about this, but then again, what could they say? It was a normal conversation. Or was it?

She told her suddenly annoying giggly friends that she would catch up later, which was for her a nice way to say go the hell away. “Hi.” she said simply and tried to sound as nice as possible. It wasn’t hard. She knew the guy. Kind of a no stranger.

She focused on his tone of voice. Much, much more deep, and adult-like. In the 7th grade, he was always sounding so exasperated, and he used to add this little high pitch ending to all his phrases, and so it made everything he said sound like a command, coming from the mouth of a wannabe-colonel or something.

No more high-pitch. It was hard to depict was he was thinking or feeling. Was it really that important to know these?

She though of the things he might want to say. Hey, sorry for being so mean. I hate Veronica. No kidding, Kat would say. I hate her too. Or maybe, hey, I hate you. You’re not the same. You aren’t either, Kat would snap. She was mentally ready.

“How, how have you being doing?” The typical casual question wasn’t casual at all in this case. 3 years of how she had been doing. The typical casual answer might be able to fit into the context too, Kat thought. “Very good. School, vacations, High School, more vacations. It’s been pretty fun.” she said with a touch of humour, and he smile-chuckled. She smiled back awkwardly. What the hell?

“But what about you? Where is it that you went?” She knew. Off course, she wasn’t an ignorant. But she didn’t want to have a silent conversation either. “Russia. It was kind of weird you know, adapting to it. It’s just so different.” he said and she nodded.

Russia. Not only was it so far away. So different too. What had he been doing there? Why did she want to know?

The bell rang, and Kat didn’t know whether to be grateful or not. Not like she was used to talking to him already. Not that she wanted them to remain as total strangers. Reason why she probably decided to ask him out.

“So, hey, we should probably meet someday, to catch up on everything.” she asked gradually. Actually, not gradually at all. It did seemed like she wanted to talk to him. Not good. What if he said no? She’d be so ashamed of herself for being a bigmouth and that would probably lead to suicide. No, it wouldn’t. Self confidence and stableness!


She was blushing, that she knew. But she stayed…firm, and it seemed like a million years for him to say something.

“Yes, we should. We’ll talk later…?” he nodded slowly, as if to enunciate the ‘yes’ part. It was better than ‘no’, anyway. Kat nodded back, but much faster. “Yeah, later on.” She thought ‘bye’ was useless, because technically they were both remaining in the same place. So she simply smiled, and turned back, and tried to back as normally as he could.

It didn’t turn out to be as normally, she noticed, since it was the first time in years she had focused on the normal way in which she should walk.

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

Arrival (Part 5)

“Um, nothing dude. We talked a bit, but you know, I haven’t talked to her in years.” They hadn’t talked at all, actually. Seemed like they didn’t want to. But then again, he did, at least now. Nothing involving love, no. Not like last time. They were just friends.

He observed Johnny. He’d never been too close to Kat. When they talked, they hadn’t mentioned her, never. Perhaps it was because he didn’t want to, because, he admitted it, he hadn’t liked her very much. Perhaps, because his mind wasn’t capable of thinking about two girls—with different aspects—at the same time.

He suddenly felt the urge to add the little detail. “Actually, I met this girl, back there.” Then, he felt like he didn’t want to share anymore.

“No kidding, dude? Russian chicks?!” Suddenly Johnny was existed. Sure his response would’ve been different, had he not mention chicks—girls. He laughed a bit. “She wasn’t Russian. She was English.” “Awesome, I love their accents! But what’s up with this girl and Kat?” he asked, again.

Well, other than the fact that they didn’t know each other…no, not much. “I told you already, Kat and I are not back together.” Johnny nodded and he was glad because he understood. He really didn’t want to talk about it.

“Hey, cool. No offence, dude, but I’m sort of glad you moved on.” Johnny padded him on the back. He just smiled, and tried to ignore the fact that Johnny was probably saying that he never liked Kat. “I mean, I don’t think she’s hot or anything.” Because Johnny only cared about looks, so unlike him—

But the looks, they had counted too. What he had seen when he entered Chem. last week, it hadn’t been disappointing. Her hair was much shorter and its edges were not as wavy. Her eyes, he was still glad for the demeaning presence they settled, so well-known of her. Yet, he tried to ignore all these, and remember her as a friend. His friend.

“If you care, she stills reads a lot. She’s still smart as hell, and I think she’s gotten smarter. It’s so stressing when she’s the only one passing a class or somethin’, seriously.” Johnny spoke. Good for Kat, he thought. Not like she needed to feel bad for lazy-asses. She…deserved it.

Suddenly Kat deserved anything. Because his friends deserved the best. Seriously.

Then he wanted to stop defending her. It was something that she—the other one wouldn’t have liked. Kat would’ve liked it either, because she was always so independent and—

“So what about her?” Johnny asked and his mind-in war was interrupted. “Well, I don’t know, you tell me.” Last time he checked, he’d been the one who had just arrived.
“About her? Sure dude, as if I knew everything about her.” Johnny rolled his eyes. It took quite a long time for him to realize that Johnny was not talking about Kat at all.


“Oh. Sorry. I’m kind of lost.” Sure, Johnny had to understand. Lost? Lost is love, perhaps? “She’s English, she’s hot, she’s cool.” Somehow, he really didn’t know how to describe her. “Wow, dude, what is she not?” Sarcasm wasn’t really Johnny’s thing. Then again, he tried to be more descriptive. “You’re not really convinced about her.” Johnny narrowed his eyes, like a true pathetic detective.

He was. He loved her more than anything, more than chocolate, and more than Kat—
“What else do you wanna know? Get a love life of your own.” He joked. Not like he had to tell Johnny all about his life in the past years. Curiosity, he thought, shouldn’t be anybody’s thing.

“Okay. Okay, chill. Maybe I should, though.” Johnny wondered out loud. It was good that he didn’t mind that much. “Hey, if you wanna know how your best buddy’s doing, just talk to her.” Johnny made some sort of not-really-what-I-meant intonation in the ‘buddy’ part and that tensed his nerves a bit. Because Kat wasn’t his buddy, but more than that. Or, because she was and he wanted to for to be more.

But then, he realized Johnny was right in the go talk to her part, and he ignored his mind as she entered the hall with her usual group of friends. Somehow, she stood out than the rest of them, and she was filled with books, and stopped by her locker. He focused on her face. She had changed. But she was still the same. Sort of happy, and intellectual.

Not like he wanted to keep staring like a total freak. Not like everyone was doing it too. Not like she needed it or liked it. Not that he could do it. So he wondered what was it that made him leave Johnny behind, and walk up to her.

Tuesday, March 4, 2008

Arrival (Part 4)

The bell rang and everyone stood up. He took a few more minutes to go out of the class. Not like he had a hurry. Though it was pretty corny, he was actually enjoying this coming back and looking and enjoying everything he saw. The ordinary classroom, with scribbled-on desks and not-to-sleep chairs, it was amazing.

“So, wazzup man? Everything the same?” came Johnny and indirectly brought him back to reality and normality. They were supposed to get out. “Yep.” he added and they headed out of class into the busy hallway. “I know dude. It’s like this place is stuck in time or something.” Johnny made it sound as if it was bad. Maybe it was, but it wasn’t for someone who’d just came back from the other side of the world.

“What about the people? Are they stuck too?” It didn’t matter though. He was back, and it was okay if the school had decided to wait for him.

He tried to answer his own question while Johnny babbled, and he looked at Johnny for reference. His hair was shorter, but messier. Same clothes, with a small touch of freshmen elegancy. Maturity. The surroundings, the careless students passing by, logically they had grown, some of them. Their attitudes were depicted, whether they had said hi or recognized him on Friday.

“Most of the girls, I’ve known them since forever. So no good or interestin’ chicks.” Johnny finished. “Chicks, huh?” he wondered out loud. Well, now that they had gotten into the subject—
“Yeah. So, hey, how’s…how’s Kat doing?” He couldn’t help it. Well, she was a 'chick' alright. He admitted and now realized he had been avoiding the thinking about her. Not like he was expecting her in Chem. on Friday. Coming back in the plane, he had thought about it, about what he would say when they met again.

First he tried to be optimistic, by guessing she was probably gone or had changed schools, but then realized this guessing wasn’t as probable—and satisfying—as it sounded. Well, maybe she wouldn’t recognized him. About the people changing, he had changed but was too modest as to admire himself. But off course she’d remember him. It was Kat, after all. And her memory was partly the reason why he had fallen for her—

Yes, yes, he did. And he was embarrassed about it, but seemed that he liked to think about it…her. He thought of the future back again, and assured himself that something would occur to him eventually. But Chem. had been just too soon.

And now he wanted to know what had been of Kat here, to get a bit prepared for that eventually.

“Kat? Katherine Bristow?! Oh dude, wazzup with her? Somethin goin on still?” Unfortunately, Johnny’s eyes widened with interest. And he thought he was the one asking
.

Monday, March 3, 2008

Arrival (Part 3)

She felt some sort of an electric shock rush up and down her stomach, and she didn’t know and she didn’t want to know, why had it occurred. Anger, nerves…love? Pathetic. Thanks, she thought of saying. But then again, Veronica wasn’t the type of person who would distinguish sarcasm and reality.

“We’re….okay, I guess. Being friends again.” Kat decided to say, concisely and totally cool. Veronica nodded, and Kat was grateful for her to not ask anymore. “But, hey, what do you really think about him? Like right now?”

“What? Well, I don’t know. I haven’t have much time yet to talk to him, you know, because he just arrived Friday. Why?” Kat pointed out. What the hell did she mind? Typical of her, to remove information and go tell him. Not that she had anything amazing or totally juicy to say about him…them. Certainly nothing at all.

“Don’t you think he’s totally hot? I mean, compare that to when he left last time."
Veronica was looking at him way to intensely. She was only missing the pointing finger to look extremely rude and infantile.


Like if he was something one could truly admire, anyway. He was in the soccer field, making some passes with other dudes in the class. The two girls were seated at the bleachers.

Kat could only blush. “Well…um…” She looked at him, like glancing. She had seen the difference. Not that she really wanted to admit it. But what could she say to him, or to anyone about it? Obsessing over hot guys with Veronica, it was not fun anymore. Not since they discovered how different their tastes in guys was, and since Kat observed it was certainly not fun to simply BE with Veronica. She wasn’t willing to observe his hot body as Veronica was, so she nodded and prayed for that mid-answer to be valid enough.

“He is, isn’t he?” Veronica spoke rather to herself and Kat just ignored. The teacher was coming out of the gym, and so she used this as a distraction. The class started, and the teacher didn’t seem to mind or notice, that it was like the second class of the year. Running was what made most people groan, and the type of thing for which the girls (Veronica!) said they had a twisted foot or something totally false—and visible. The teacher just laughed, and threatened with zeros. Some other girls stood up, and others kept looking for ways to convince

Kat tried to run whatsoever with her jeans. When the class was instructed and the boys started running, Veronica was planning to stay, but took off uncomfortably as soon as she saw Kat starting to run with some other not-stupidly-cunning-enough-as-to-come-up-with-lame-excuses-for-running girls.

Veronica thought talking with Kat might distract her from feeling tired, but it was all the opposite. Kat tried to stay as quiet as possible, and vaguely nodded whenever Veronica asked her something. It was depressing.

3 laps. In Jeans. With her running beside. Bad, bad day. When Kat had done 2 of the total 3, he suddenly passed by her, at a much faster speed. He had good rhythm and didn’t seem one bit tired. Amazing.

Stop. It was not prohibited to admire him, but not like she had already convince herself fully of…liking him...again. No, that was simply not going to happen. Veronica, like an annoying conscience said something about his abs, but Kat did her best to ignore. She wondered how was it possible for two different people, to be have been such good friends.

As she completed the laps, and slowed down, she didn’t know whether she was referring to herself and Veronica, or herself and—him.