(no subject)
There was a short while in which Rebecca and I were very good classmates.
You could have almost called us friends, actually.
I did, since I didn’t know any better at the time, and thought that all that had happened was she had turned her attitude around and finally realized how back and forth, hot and cold she had been to me. I thought that she had made the choice to finally be nice to me once and for all, that arguing about very petty things was no way to go about spending the first sixth of our lives together.
She approached me in the middle of Intermission about going over to her house for the afternoon. It was a very gray and rain-choked Thursday. I had been reading outside as I usually do when it rains, but I had finished the book and simply sat there on the driveway with my legs stretched out before me and the book hanging open from one hand. Rebecca had called me on one of our new NAVIgators; those ones had cellular technology that functioned as a long-range speakerphone and came with voice recognition software for making voice pattern passwords.
Privacy was a crucial thing then, during the transition.
I answered her call attempt, surprised that anyone had bothered to get in touch with me besides Gillian or Isaac. Rebecca had always been a strange creature, and I thought of myself in much the same manner then. I guess I always have. But then I felt alien, and I felt unwanted, and I knew that if I tried to scratch the surface and get a straight answer from someone about it that they’d just confirm my suspicions, so you can imagine the awkward way I handled her invitation.
I sat there for a minute longer, staring at my dark gray skirt against the dark wet pavement and the dark black paragraphs of the book I held open, wondering if this had been how long I blended in with my surroundings before someone found me out, and if Rebecca been the one to find me out and come calling me to expose me, or to threaten to expose me, or perhaps something worse. To think that her invitation had sounded so innocent.
How could anything have possibly been worse at that moment? Uncertainty was the scourge of my existence. It couldn’t have been any worse. Deciding upon this, I stood up and walked up a very large hill which she lived at the top of.
She opened the door for me and stood a few paces away, pleasantly dry, while I took my wet shoes off and dripped all over the hardwood floor of the entryway.
"How are you, Anna?"
"I'm not much of anything right now."
"Hell of a day out."
"The walk was nice."
"Don’t you own an umbrella?"
"Not at all."
"I'm bored out of my mind."
"Would you like to go take a walk? It really is nice."
"I was thinking more along the lines of watching a movie with you."
"That sounds equally as nice."
Rebecca watched me carefully, I imagine at the rain that was sliding out of my hair and down my face. Perhaps it was my overuse of the word nice. I hadn’t any thought as to what else to say.
You could have almost called us friends, actually.
I did, since I didn’t know any better at the time, and thought that all that had happened was she had turned her attitude around and finally realized how back and forth, hot and cold she had been to me. I thought that she had made the choice to finally be nice to me once and for all, that arguing about very petty things was no way to go about spending the first sixth of our lives together.
She approached me in the middle of Intermission about going over to her house for the afternoon. It was a very gray and rain-choked Thursday. I had been reading outside as I usually do when it rains, but I had finished the book and simply sat there on the driveway with my legs stretched out before me and the book hanging open from one hand. Rebecca had called me on one of our new NAVIgators; those ones had cellular technology that functioned as a long-range speakerphone and came with voice recognition software for making voice pattern passwords.
Privacy was a crucial thing then, during the transition.
I answered her call attempt, surprised that anyone had bothered to get in touch with me besides Gillian or Isaac. Rebecca had always been a strange creature, and I thought of myself in much the same manner then. I guess I always have. But then I felt alien, and I felt unwanted, and I knew that if I tried to scratch the surface and get a straight answer from someone about it that they’d just confirm my suspicions, so you can imagine the awkward way I handled her invitation.
I sat there for a minute longer, staring at my dark gray skirt against the dark wet pavement and the dark black paragraphs of the book I held open, wondering if this had been how long I blended in with my surroundings before someone found me out, and if Rebecca been the one to find me out and come calling me to expose me, or to threaten to expose me, or perhaps something worse. To think that her invitation had sounded so innocent.
How could anything have possibly been worse at that moment? Uncertainty was the scourge of my existence. It couldn’t have been any worse. Deciding upon this, I stood up and walked up a very large hill which she lived at the top of.
She opened the door for me and stood a few paces away, pleasantly dry, while I took my wet shoes off and dripped all over the hardwood floor of the entryway.
"How are you, Anna?"
"I'm not much of anything right now."
"Hell of a day out."
"The walk was nice."
"Don’t you own an umbrella?"
"Not at all."
"I'm bored out of my mind."
"Would you like to go take a walk? It really is nice."
"I was thinking more along the lines of watching a movie with you."
"That sounds equally as nice."
Rebecca watched me carefully, I imagine at the rain that was sliding out of my hair and down my face. Perhaps it was my overuse of the word nice. I hadn’t any thought as to what else to say.