"Heather Chance is not willing to give her classmates or, for that matter, any form of social interaction a chance."
How does that sound? Am I doing this blurb thing correctly?
You'd think after years of spending every single school recess at the l...
Blocking the way ahead of us is a bright red maze of laser nestled between two bookshelves. My partner in crime and I exchange glances and an unspoken agreement passes between us. With that, we split up in different ways to tackle the obstacle before us.
I hop, limbo, somersault and crawl my way through, doing my best to avoid the deadly threads of laser. I'm completely immersed in the acrobatics of our make-believe spy game that by the time Scarlet steps up behind me it's a little too late for me to stop myself from jumping backwards and stomping down on her foot.
"Hey Heather– ow!"
And then utter disaster.
The whole ordeal takes place in no more than two seconds. First I lose my balance, swinging my arms wildly to keep from falling. With the grace of a rubbish canister I find myself falling anyway, ramming into a bookshelf on the way and taking Scarlet down with me.
There are thuds of various octaves as books rain down on us, smacking us in a thousand different places. The orchestra of blows ends with one more thump, followed by a yelp, then magnificent silence.
"Uh Heather you're sitting on my hand," Scarlet whimpers once the storm calms, her voice muffled under all the hardbacks.
I get up hurriedly, books sliding off me like dead slugs. I stammer an incoherent string of apologies as I pull the poor girl up to her feet. She is so small, so small and delicate I can't register how she survived this downpour of solids sent by Zeus himself. Her face is morphed into that of a sad puppy's, one whose tail was recently stepped on, probably because of me.
Am I a potential danger to actual puppies?
"I really didn't mean to push you like that," I blurt out stupidly, as if people could purposely send each other toppling to the ground in libraries.
Scarlet sighs. "It's fine. I just hope I actually registered any of the information those books whacked into my head. I think I might have gained more knowledge just now than in my entire life."
I stare at her unblinkingly for a moment before an odd sound escapes my mouth. It's a laugh, I realize a little too late. I feel self-conscious all of a sudden because it is unplanned for.
It's not a chuckle that I have calculated beforehand, not a practiced, presentable giggle but a dreadfully loud guffaw that isn't dissimilar from a dying goat's bleat.
Special talents: Embarrassing oneself.
Can I add that line to my CV?
Scarlet lets out a laugh as well then, one that flows freely like a river sparkling under the sun. One that is full of childish delight. One so genuine you'd think she has the world at the tip of her fingers.
It doesn't belong in the tranquil space that is the library yet it fits so perfectly with the absurdity of the moment, as if the only way to bring out the splendor in a messed up drawing is by contrasting it with the light colors of humor.
It's a laugh that isn't stale with stiffness, a laugh that doesn't question its own credibility.
It's the way laughs are meant to be – beautifully inept.
"We should clean up this mess," Scarlet says, still smiling.
As we're returning the books scattered on ground to their rightful places, I try to ask Scarlet casually, "Why are you here by the way?"
"I just wanted to ask you if you'd like to come with us today after school. We're going to visit Massa at the hospital – she injured herself while horseback riding. I'm sure she'd like you to see you. I mean, I'd really like for you to come with us too. It'll be fun. What do you think?"
Was I just invited to a play-date at a hospital?
I glance over Scarlet's shoulder and catch the familiar green twinkle of Mark's eyes hiding between the books. He is watching us the way Tarzan would watch other humans from behind leaves and branches. I know he has heard, so I raise my brows at him and shoot a quick look at Scarlet as if to ask "What do I do?"
He replies with a clear nod.
I turn to Scarlet. "Sure."
"I-If you don't want to, it's fine. I don't want to force you–"
"No I'd like to go with you. Really." I say and to my surprise, despite everything, I mean it.
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