watermelon sugar - part 1
saturday morning, two days before the beginning of classes and i couldn't leave myself sleeping in. sco was up
"sorry to wake you up, mate." he said "just used to waking up early." he was seated on the windowsill, wearing sweatpants and a tank top, holding a cup of tea. "do you want a tea?"
"sure." i sat up on my bed, my eyes becoming accustomed with the new surroundings "what time is it, sco?"
"8. do you want earl grey, english breakfast, queen anne, smoked earl grey or afternoon blend?"
"8? also, what's the difference?"
"yeah, i've been awake for ages though. i don't know, to be honest, anya got them for me as a gift."
"how long have you been up? i'll just go with the good old earl grey then." i stood up and he leaned back on the kitchen counter, i couldn't help but notice the scar on his shoulder. "jesus, sco. what happened to you?"
"oh." he blushed and i regretted asking "it's just a scar, i was caught in the crossfire, and..." the gestured to emphasize. the words 'caught in the crossfire' echoed in my mind.
"do you mind if i ask you to tell me more?"
"no, it's fine." he smiled "before applying here i enlisted in the army. i was only a few weeks away from being sent to iraq. one day i was just out and about, buying groceries, when two men decided to rob the tesco i was in. they didn't know each other which made them competitors, and their way to take the competitor down was to shoot him in the face. i was in the wrong place, wrong time. the arm doesn't work as well as it should, pinky and ring finger don't move as much anymore and i don't feel my arm part way, the bullet went through a nerve. got sent home."
"i'm sorry sco—"
"it's fine—"
"no, i'm really sorry. i am, sco."
"thank you." we smiled. i couldn't say i understood what it was like to be close to a gun, but i knew what it was like to have your life changed because of one. "but we're not gonna dwell on it, okay? it doesn't do well. wanna go for a spin?"
"you're an 80 year old."
"why?"
"who says spin anymore?"
"i do, and we're going for one, go on, get up!" i sighed loudly "get up!" he took the tank top off and put on a smiths shirt and started looking for pants. i got up too and fixed myself up in the bathroom. "ready?"
"yes sir!" i mocked.
we left the campus and took a tube to baker street, ending up in a Daunt Books, it was amazingly beautiful and it had as many books as you'd think an english major would want.
"it's nice in here, for sure. your english-nerd self must be jumping out of joy." he didn't answer, just took me to the back of the shop. "sco, i've seen books before, you know that, right?"
"it's a travel section." he pointed awkwardly at the wall "i saw your map." he stuttered "in your wall?"
"yeah! yeah, of course. thanks sco." he had only looked at it for a second, but it felt nice to know he remembered.
"right. good. i'm gonna go now, as you guessed this is heaven for me."
"nerd." as i carefully looked through the travel destinations printed in the spines of hundreds of books i wondered if joe would've liked sco. he would, i assumed, they were similar, both very quiet, though sco was much more of the awkward type, meanwhile my brother was the brooding sort, girls always liked him for it. 'girls must like sco because he's the sweet nerd' i thought. i picked a book about norway and the cold blue cover made me think of peaceful days of skiing and hot chocolate. i had never skied before but i imagined it was nice.
"anything you like? sco showed up, out of nowhere, once again. he seemed to do that a lot.
"book about norway. i reckon they don't have any wars there and they seem pretty happy people to me."
"yeah, absolutely."
"would you ever go there?"
"think so."
"good."
"good."
