What I really want to Do

My phone conversations with her were seldom worthwhile. Like I felt she was calling—because she was the one who started always—just because she really had nothing better to do. It all started with the typical what's the math homework and then there was silence and all I could do was hear the television at the other end of the line. If she wasn’t calling she was watching T.V. Good thing she had decided to try both. But yesterday it was complete boredom and desperation, what led me to do something.

“ I still don’t get why we have to learn Logic. It should be optional, you know? Because we think it in different ways and so no one is right, right? I—”

“Hey, have you ever thought of something that you really wanna do?”

“Um, what? We were just talking about math and you bring this up?”

“You were talking about Logic, and now I am not. Something you really want to do?”

“Actually, there’s tons of things I want to do. You know, travel, and get married and things.”

“Yeah, everyone wants to do that.”

“Well,? it’s because that’s what you should do. Because it’s interesting.”

“But there must be something that you want to do, not because it’s the typical interesting, but because you really want to do it.”

“…You mean something weird and abnormal.”

“Well…sure, if you put it that way.”

“I wouldn’t do anything weird. Why would I?”

“Because you wanted to do it.”

“But I wouldn’t want to embarrass myself in public.”

“I see, so it’s about others watching you.”

“Heh, yeah. I don’t want people to think I’m a weirdo.”

“Exactly. Say you really wanted to do something, but you can't do it because everyone is watching. You shouldn’t care about the others. It’s bad to pretend to be someone who you truly aren’t.”

“Now you sound like a counsellor, you know, the freaky ladies who think they know so much about teens but they don’t, like remember—”

“What? It’s all true.”

“Come on. Even you pretend someone who you are not.”
“I know I do. I try to convince myself not to do it.”

“Okay, cool. It’s nice to propose yourself with challenges.”

“…Yeah, talking about creepy counsellors.”

“Yeah, whatever. You know, being ‘not-different’ doesn’t really make me unholy or anything. I admit that we are absorbed in a society that makes us be the same, and we can’t be different because—”

“A Chocolate Bath.”

“What?! You’re so random today it’s not even funny! Quit it!”

“Hey, you say that you don’t want to do anything weird because you’re afraid that the We do the Same, Screw the Rest Club might expel you. Since I am doing my best at avoiding your clone society, I want a chocolate bath.”

“…Sometimes, you really scare me.”

“Think about it. Do you like chocolate?”

“Um, yes, but—”

“Everybody likes chocolate. Everyone appreciates its sweetness and deliciousness and imagine a bath, with all of the above.”

“Still, it would so…unclean.”

“There is not clean or dirty chocolate. It’s just it, in all it’s glory.”

“Why the hell would I bathe myself in chocolate? There’s something called water, you know.”

“Hey, even you would like it. Just imagine it. You home, after school and so tired of pretending someone who you really are not. And all you want to do, is relax, and sleep, and enjoy, and be yourself. You open the bathroom door, and your bathtub is filled with melted chocolate, looking so provocative. You are so temped, and you jump into the chocolate bath, and it’s so cosy and delicious, and you want to stay there.”

“…God, I don’t know what to say.”

“I’m supposed you are as flattered as I am.”

“Em…sure. Listen, I really gotta go, you know, to do the Math homework. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay, have fun.”

After I hung up the phone, I realized I had found a way in which I could avoid phone conversations with her, forever.