May 14, 2011 22:10
A BOY was sitting on of those metal chairs outside starbucks. You see, you got those when all the seats inside were filled and you had nowhere else to sit. The weather was a little humid, but that wasn't really what made him uncomfortable. In his hands was a little book titled "Driving 101"; he had been trying to pass his driving but today was just not the day. 15 minutes into it he realised he was going nowhere and settled with simply flipping the pages. The table in front of him was a little shaky, but it had to do. There weren't any other seats available on this lazy afternoon.
THE GIRL suddenly touched his hand gently, and gave him a smile. He finally looked up from his book but never found it enough in him to smile back.
"What?" It came out way worse than he meant it to be.
"I feel like eating pocky." She was either oblivious to his moodiness or simply couldn't find another way to strike a conversation with the boy.
Somehow he managed a smile on his face this time. It was just something in her voice and her little random declarations of her addiction to snacks that made him feel better no matter the occasion.
"Well, I have a surprise for you."
"What thing."
He dug into his bag, and took out a little box of Pockey he had bought on his way here.
A smile streaked across her face as she took it and tore open the little piece of cardboard sealing the little sticks of biscuits inside. It wasn't the first time he did this, but look on her face in that few moments was worth millions to him. He loved it when she smiled.
But it was a short-lived moment as the other person came back from the washroom and sat down. He immediately dug back into his driving theory as if it was the most interesting book on earth. The other person was sitting beside her; you see, it was a circular metal table they were sitting around so you HAD to be next to each other, but he felt as if he was sitting right at the opposite end of the world. The two seemed to connect so well; giggling and laughing over past memories unknown to him.
Time passed horribly slow and the words on his book seemed even to be laughing at his stupidity.
Why did I even come in the first place?
Just earlier that day he had MSN-ed her and asked if they could hang out. She said she was studying with another guy friend from the same school so it shouldn't be a problem. He knew it shouldn't have gone; he had been out of his mind. Anything was better than this. Spinning his handphone in his hand the digits of his screensaver stared at him, displaying the time. He willed the digits to change, as if that would make a difference. But it was better than listening to them chatter about something completely unrelated to him.
Finally she got up and left for the washroom leaving an awkward silence behind. He took the chance to have a look at the other party. You see, he had been so clouded with emotions when he first arrived that he couldn't really take a look at his face properly. He just sat down and took out his book. Now he realised that there wasn't anything really special about him; he wore a pair of normal jeans and black t-shirt. His glasses fit on the rim of his nose, signifying his adeptness in studying. This dude definitely wasn't good-looking but the boy knew she was never the kind to look at appearances.
He took a piece of cardboard from the pockey container and folded it before placing it below one of the legs of the table. She had been having trouble writing properly on the shaky table and he liked to look out for her, even if it were just little things. He didn't know if she knew or not, but it made him happy. It shook a little less but he hadn't had time to adjust before she came back. Suddenly he tried to pretend his world now only revolved around him and the little book of driving. He couldn't talk to her in front of the other dude; he didn't think he would be able keep a straight face in his presence.
The sun took YEARS to finally set, or so it felt to him. He had one last chance to talk to her again when the dude left for the washroom one more time. He could sense the party was almost over and it was gonna be the last chance he was ever going to take.
It was now or never.
He made the decision in his mind, that what she chose would be what he would accept and maybe, just maybe, it was the time to go.
"Hey, when are you going off?" Contrary to what he had in mind, she spoke first; breaking the wall of silence between them. She was already packing up her stuff and he could see that the other guy had already kept all his things before leaving for the washroom.
"I don't know. I already told my parents I'm not having dinner at home."
"Oh. Then how?"
"Don't know. Maybe find some place to eat outside. Or something." Alone. By myself. This is it. What are you going to choose?
"Okay."
The other dude came back almost right after the 'y' left her mouth. He could only stare at the little "p" on the stop sign in his book as they packed up and started leaving together.
"You sure you not going back?"
He hesitated.
"I think I'll stay a little while more."
"Okay."
All of a sudden he didn't know what to think; or what to do. The little "P" seemed to retain in his eyes even as he looked up from the book; a result of staring too hard at it. He could only sit there and stare as they walked away. It was too much for him to take. He grabbed his bag and stuffed the damned book in; he would grab a bus, or something, to somewhere and never see her again. He knew the image of them walking together one more time would kill him, so he waited for them to disappear before going off himself.
Shit.
It was the two of them again. Walking in his direction. Taking his cell out, he dialed a number; any number he could remember and put it to his ears. Though he was talking to a ringing tone, it was still better than having to say bye. Crossing their paths, he knew, that it would be the last time he would see her.
He wasn't gonna look back.
Not this time.
It had dragged on for way too long.
The call connected. And his vision blurred.
- - -
I still feel sad reading this story.