Perfectly Imperfect 1

26- Rituals

KAYLA:

I waved at Cal. He pulled over where I was standing and unlocked the doors, expecting me to open the door myself. Grimacing, I signalled to the big basket I was carrying. Cal frowned and got out of the car.

"What's that?"

"Stuff," I said nonchalantly, sliding into the car after he opened the door for me.

Cal stood there, looking at me strangely.

I huffed.

"Come on, let's go. You'll eventually know what's in there. Hurry up! I don't want anybody to see that I'm ditching school!"

Rolling his eyes, Cal got into his car, slightly whiffing of alcohol.

"Yeah, as if they don't already know. Kayla, you have got to understand that no matter where I go, eyes follow and gossips spread."

Ookay. Figuring I had better keep quiet, we rode in silence for the next 10 minutes or so.

"So, where are we going, Cal?" I finally asked, after the silence became too unbearable for me to take.

"I don't know, Kayla," Cal whispered after a moment, his voice heavy. "What's the point? What's the point of going anywhere?! What is there to live for, if we're all going to die anyway?" I turned to him worriedly. Suddenly, his shoulders started shaking.

"Cal...?"

He shook his head and pulled over, hunched over the steering wheel, his face bowed. 

"Its... I'm okay... I'm sorry. Its... I was doing a lot of... thinking... yesterday. And the drinks just made everything..." he trailed off, his voice hoarse and muffled.

Slowly, I reached over and stroke his hair softly. At first, he flinched at my touch, but then, he began to relax, his ragged breaths slowly becoming even.

"Its okay to cry, Cal. Its okay."

Cal just sat there in silence, not looking at me, licking his wounds in silence. After a few minutes, he slowly tuned to me, his face a mask of grief and sadness.

"Why, Kayla? Why did he have to die? Why must I be the one who has to live? Who has to bear the guilt? Why?" 

I stared at Cal, at loss for words. How I wish I could reach out to him, help him stand, remove his grief... but I know I couldn't. No matter how much I wanted him to heal, it was he who had to do it himself. I could only watch.

"Because its part of life, Cal," I whispered slowly, not sure whether my words would help.

Cal looked taken aback, as if he had never heard someone say that to him before.

"Well then, life sucks!" he finally said, looking like a six year old about to throw a big tantrum.

"It does, but only sometimes, Cal..." I paused, rearranging my words. "You know, the funny thing about us is that we almost always focus on the bad things in life, and completely overlook the good things we have. Or had."

Cal scoffed and tried to interrupt me, but I held my hand out.

"No, wait. Hear me out. Let me give you a simple scenario. Erm, what's the most delicious thing you've ever tasted? How about a..."

"Root beer float," Cal mumbled, despite himself. I gave him an encouraging smile.

"Okay, the first time you taste a root beer float, you just feel so darn happy, don't you? Like... like you're living on a cloud of lollipops where chocolate rains down from the sky and rainbows are made out of bon-bons. The second time you taste it, you probably will still like it a lot, but you have to admit, its not as delicious as your first glass, isn't it? And... the thirteenth time you have it, your happiness will be even less enormous, and in fact, your float probably won't even offer you anymore happiness 'coz you're just so used to the taste. Capisce?"