Blame It On Paperbacks

Part 4

"Do you know what scares me?" I asked.

"Yes. For me to be gone," she replied without any hesitance.

"No. It's for me to get used to polish my own school shoes every Sunday evening. It's for me to get used to have dinner on weekdays and talking to only two persons around the table. It's for me to find myself drawn back from the memory I have of you and completely block out of life from the instance of realization that I had a mother and now I need her. Do you get me?" I recited breathlessly. I noticed a blur around my sight as tears are slowly developing in my eyes.

She didn't say a thing and just hugged me. Though I can trace sadness welling up inside her because of what I said, I can't help but to tell her the truth anyway. She bid goodbye and good night and that's all it. I lost my appetite to finish my project so I decided to sleep. I tucked beneath the sheets of blankets and buried my face in my pillow. Unconsciously, I fell dead asleep.

***

I wore a pair of messy braided pigtails and I didn't care about wearing a wool sweater on a sunny day because I'm feeling completely away. I felt like walking on a ground floating on tides the whole way to my classroom. I have been thinking my foggy thoughts way too much that I hadn't realized Red was waiting for me on the doorstep.

"Hey, Primrose. Madame's gonna be 30 minutes late. Coffee?" she invited with a tiny smile.

"Will just drop my bag," I responded.

She walked ahead and I just kept on following her. The hallways are seemed flattened by dead silence. Maybe because everyone's having classes except for our section. We never talked during the whole lengthy walk which is okay with me.

Immediately, she spotted a table that looked perfect for her and pulled the other chair for me like some gentleman. She gestured me to sit and I smiled in return.

I sat down and searched for my purse. She left me right away and had not given me the chance to hand her my money. She's going to be the one who orders in the counter since I was the one who did yesterday. It's our sort of best friend rules.

Anyway, luckily, I knew how much my cup of favorite coffee at cafeteria costs and I got an exact amount for it so I just put my money across the side of the table so she will be held responsible for it. What a witty I got at this moment.

"So?" She immediately shot a look at me while walking a few steps back to our table. She might mean: What is that money doing there? I guess.

"So what?" I replied while leaning still on the back of the chair.

"I'm a fairy godmother today. You don't have to pay," she said while smiling and gave me wink.

"Oh." I couldn't argue with her anymore, anyway. I never won anything over her otherwise I might get my cheeks hot all of the time while trying to ignore her.

It happened one time at the park when we were on 8th grade. She was talking way too much about something and I wasn't in the mood to listen. (And yes, that happens especially when I got a problem that's bigger than my head. You know, problems like grades hanging low.) The one-way conversation lasted for more or less 1 hour and I'm not kidding. I felt like my ears were going to bleed at any moment because my brain can't contain any more information from her non-stop lips. You're not listening, she said. I was halfway through my ring finger's nail when I stopped. You're just biting your nails, she reminded me. I'm listening, I said without looking at her. If you are, what was I recently talking about? she inspected. Kurt's good night message, I answered confidently even when a spasm was starting to rise in me.

No, she glared at me and walked away. I just called her once, hoping that she would come back and let me explain. But she didn't and I hadn't followed her. I admit that's the only thing I remembered from the whole time she was talking and I know I was being jerk or something like that. It was the worst misunderstanding (fight?) we had and it took us 3 months before deciding to reconcile.

"I found a good book I know you would love," she picked me up.

"What is it?" Books. Always.

"Blind Willow, Sleeping Woman," she uttered with playful fluency on her lips.

I laughed. "Murakami's?"

"You know?" she disappointedly asked. I know she is because she looked down to her lap under the table when she asked.

"Yeah, but I hadn't read it," I attempted to save her esteem in this conversation.

"How come you know many things?" she interrogated.

"I know the same amount of things you know. It's just a matter of subject. Ask me anything about Math and I'll surely ask you back," I pointed.

She just smiled.

"I hope you're doing well, still." Her eyes softened.

"Yeah, I am. See, I've never missed a class."

"Haven't you? Really? Not even one? You may be sitting on your chair but you're out somewhere. I can see," she clarified.

"Yeah, yeah," I responded. I'm just tired. I don't want to explain myself to anyone. Not because I'm upset to the world, but because I hate myself for being like this. And you're not required to understand. I promise.

"Hey, yar mirage!" she exclaimed while looking on top of my shoulder.

"What?" I asked and looked to the direction where her eyes were locked.

It's Gab. Yeah, for real.

I returned back to us and I'm embarrassed that she's still looking at him. "Hey, I got no time for flings these days. I'm sorry, my dear. Also, turn away those sticky eyes before Alex sees you," I cleared.

"I got no time for hypocrites these days, too. Alex is still the cutest, though," she answered, still not looking at me.

I didn't get back at her. Instead, I stood up. "Time for the late class," I reminded her.

"Fine."

Although we're walking fast, I can still feel my feet being dragged back to the cafeteria. I wonder what energy is pulling me to stay there, but whatever (or whoever) it is, I figured I have to repel from it as much as I can.

***

"Turn your books to chapter 8 and skim it. You don't have to understand everything, but you have to know something. I just have to go to the office. Don't create some noise. For God's sake, y'all are graduating next year so act like it. I don't have to remind you," Mrs. Marzan told us before leaving the room.

"What on earth is a teacher who'll come to class late and will rely her lessons on our futile and inexperienced minds?!" Jake ranted. Do you ever have that one (or more than that) classmate(s) who has this habit of blurting out his feelings to the entire universe and it seemed like nobody cares? At all. The plot twist is that he's your seatmate or sitting somewhere near that you could even hear his breathing up close. Well, guess what because I'm that 'you' I'm pertaining about.

As I am used to his annoying presence for years, I just read the chapter Mrs. Marzan asked us to skim. I never skimmed and I think that's a thing. How can you manage to half-dig and half-skip something for which an enormous attention has been rendered? I mean, anybody can be stunned by a painting and imagine the painter stroking his brush against the canvas, but can you get swooned over a book and imagine how the writer/author spent nights and days gathering his thoughts together and form them into words and illustrations? Anything can be interesting and I respect people who get nerd or geek (or whatever word suited) about something they really love. Everyone can find, but only few can do.

Our class today ended up having Mrs. Marzan story-tell about her rides on public vehicles. How men these days have to be taught and reminded about chivalry. How this generation has been molded into an "apathetic lineage of future oldies". She's being sentimentally truthful, I guess.

Red signed me to follow her, but I want to walk my way home alone and I don't know how to tell it without her being nosy. I quickly thought of a good excuse to get through and it fortunately came on time.

"I've got to pay Lizzie a visit. I can't get on the bus," I told her. She knows that whenever I drop by Lizzie's grave, I always want to go alone. So she never intrigued further and let me go.

"Text me when you get home so I'd know you're still sane," she joked. But I think that's a joke that I need to take seriously.

"Sure."