His Collection

SEVENTEEN

Marina had to be carried back like an infant because she refused to walk, and without protest she tossed me the bag. Somehow it eased up the feeling of danger and fear. Now I was just feeling homesick, even missing school as I carried the backpack all the way to the house.

"It's not home," I told myself. I'd hear them say how great it was to be back home, and that there's no place like it; of course there wasn't, the people you love are there. Without warning my eyes began to tear up again.

The bag slumped at my feet as I sat in the kitchen table resting my head over my crossed arms. Sadness and guilt washed over me till all I could see were blurred figures dancing around me. Mom, dad, and the last one, Kyle.

Giving up hope wasn't what I needed, I knew that, but it's hard holding on to it. Again I tried to focus on Kyle; he was my inspiration to fight back, always had been. When we first met, I wasn't much of a rebel, just a secret one. He was the one who never cared about the consequences of his protests, and it made me feel welcomed to show the people my own ideas. I still remember the day I truly fell in love with that fiery spirit of his. 

I chuckle a little then wipe my eyes of the salty gunk flowing from the corner of my eyes.

Kyle had just climbed over the teacher's desk, then ripped his worksheet after our ancient teacher had openly annouced that Kyle had been the only one fail due to writing incorrect history answers.

"Get down, Mr. Kyle!" The teacher barked, causing her entire body to rattle.

"These are American bias books and work, are you honestly expecting me to swallow this bull?!" Kyle shouted, then as if setting free a dozen doves, he let the shredded paper fly. "Your teaching methods are outdated just as the work you provide us!"

Quickly she reached for his legs, and as an instinct, I blocked her from ever touching the desk. At the time I still wasn't much of a speaker, but I protected him. He was my only friend, and a great one. Even when he surprisingly burst with a rebellion, I would roll my eyes and run to defend his spontaneous ass.

"Miss Blanca?! You sit down!" She turned to me, adding how I once was a quiet, good girl before meeting my little friend.

Define good, lady. You mean I was obedient, I thought to myself. Squinting my eyes, I let my face do the talking and then had Kyle lift me up. As I stood, I caught a glimpse of his face at the right angle with the perfect light cascading through the windows. He appeared as the greatest thing I've ever seen; the spark I needed to fire me up.

"Mrs. Batche, we won't read these books!" Kyle said as he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. "Some of us are tired of playing dumb here." He faced me, and winked. My face lit up as if my body had jolted into my true personality. I smiled, then raised my own sheet in the air demanding we either get new, updated books, or a better instructor. A few other kids nodded, and spoke out along with my demand.

I faced Kyle as he grinned. "We make a great team."

We do...

"We make a great team." I heard his voice ring in my ear.

A great team...

"...help me clean."

"What?" I snapped out my thoughts, and looked up to Lance holding a basket of vegetables. He looked calmly back at me and smiled at my confused expression. Those honey drops gave a twinkle as he sighed out how round my eyes were.

"I said, would you like to help me clean? It's for the dinner later."

"Oh," I sit up, and tuck my hair behind my ears. "Sure, sorry...I was just -just somewhere else."