Ch Ch Ch
Standing infront of the printer, I watch as it spits out my essay, words that may break my freshly built reputation, comdemn a building still under construction. I slip my fingers around the warm paper, the ink words staring me back, threataning me.
I shoot Cheryl a smile over my shoulder, "Thanks again for letting me use your printer."
She nods, waving a hand, "Oh, it's no problem, honey. If you ever want to chat, my door is open," She swings the pale yellow chipped door to her desk. I laugh, and ignore the monster of fear scratching at the walls of my stomach, eating all the butterflies.
Sitting in Kori's dorm, I can't focus on the case. Words jumble together, spelling out ones I don't want to think about. Kori seems unbothered by what looms over us, tommorows fate. He kneels down, organizing the open file on the floor before him. I look at the paper he gave me to read over, and I can't.
My legs have been wobbling since I read the email. You don't have to tell me that's pathetic, I know. I'm a good speaker; sometimes at least. I have a reputation for rambling. Words come to me so fast my mouth can't catch up, and it all comes out as a blurt, cut up by stammers and stutters. I fidget with the pen in my hand.
"Jenny," Kori hums, picking up the file for Jenny, the last person to see our victim. "I'd say we can rule her out." Kori has been rushing through this whole thing, zipping through the sessions, making it abundantly clear he'd rather be somewhere else. He despises me, I know it. I feel it in the air between us, and It's reciprocated, but something else lingers on my side. I push the pen into the file, hard.
The pen can't take it, and it comes apart, greeting our worksapce with a blue explosion of ink. I look up at Kori with an uh-oh face. He groans, "Great, just great. Now that document is unsalvageable."
"Like your personality."
"Be serious, Averen. Didn't you hear the professor? This is MOST of our grade. MOST." His accent is clear once more, r's having gained slight W's, c's have gained faint H's. Whenever this happens, the muscles in my face decide to smile. It's cute. Not that I think he is cute, just the accent. If I ever say I find Kori Laurier cute, drop me off at the nearest asylum.
I shrug, "Yeah, yeah."
He scoffs, scrubbing the ink off of the stool we'd been using as a desk, since he was adamant about not letting me sit on his furniture. Apparently I have slime trailing behind me like a snail or something from the way he acts. God, clean freak much?
I lean my head back, the thought of the essay flashing in my head like an alarm, alerting me to the fact that I was about to share my rock-bottom point with 40 half-asleep college freshman who couldn't care less. I zone out.
Kori snaps his fingers in my face. "Earth to brat. Come on, we're almost done. Unless you're in dire need of an emergency nap."
I sigh, "Can I take you up on that?"
"I was joking."
"Damn it."
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Walking to class, my heart is in my throat and my stomach is in my feet. I feel like I could be sick. My careless attitude's dissapearence needs an investigation. The next assignment should be solving the case of 'where did Averen's sense go'.
I slide into the farthest back seat possible, hoping maybe Prof Simons will forget I'm in this lecture. "Good morning everyone. As you know, today you will be orally presenting your essay's. We will be going by last name alphabetically, starting at Z and working our way up to A. Good luck." She stands infront of us, floral skirt clinging to her legs, hair having frizzed up the humidity. It's the last warm day of the year, before we are relieved of frizzy hair and pit-stains, and are allowed into the peaceful world of pumpkins and scarecrows. I let myself slip away from reality, worries comforted by the thought of Halloween.
Professor Simon's voice becomes an afterthought as my mind wonders over the possibilities of what me and Loretta will go as this ear. We always do corralated costumes. Last year she was sexy Donald duck (don't ask) and I was sexy Micky (don't ask again). The year before, we were Harley Quin and the Joker. I wonder if that green wig was Loretta's insporation for her now signature green hair.
Maybe we could go as...
My thoughs are rudely interrupted by Anthony's ever-cracking voice.
"My biggest injustice," He begins, voice about as enthusiastic as a kindergartener playing with a parachute. I put my head down, preparing myself for the impending monstrosity this poor room would be subjected to. I pull my maroon sweater over my eyes, suddenly fighting a headache. I wouldn't be surprised if it was Anthony-induced.
"My biggest injustice was my drum set being sold. When I was 14, my Dad got me this real drum set. Symbol and everything. It was swell, real swell. It even had my name on the main drum. Daddio said to start a band someday. So I played, all day every day. And I sounded superb, if I do say so myself. Unfortunatly, the next door neighbor didn't say so himself, and he went on my parents, telling tales of obnoxiousness and off-beat. I guess my dad forgot that our garage was connected to his. They sold my set. I threw a hissy, let me tell you. But they didn't budge. So I got into dance instead, we-hee!" The same obscure twirl occurs, with everyone gasping. Not in awe. He tips his fedora, which has now become his signturre fashion staple. Professor Simon's looks almost scared.
"Amazing, Anthony."
"Antony. My cousin said it would be cooler without the H."
"Uhh, okay. Well, have a seat..an..Antony."
I have to physically cover my mouth to keep from laughing, but then remember my own misfortune. How these same people, these same people who just watched an adult twirl and tip is fedora, buck teeth and all, will be witnessing me pour my heart out. Now I feel like covering my mouth for a different reason, not barfing.
Other essay's pass, some funny, some sad, some inbetween. Melancholy.
Then it was Kori's turn.
I shifted in my seat, knowing L is only 3 letters from H. He steps up to the front, clearing his throat, his dark way hear falling over his eyes, grey sweater perfectly ironed, as were his khaki's. He starts reading, and it's a tragic tale. A tale of a murder.
"My biggest injustice," He begins. "Is my Cousin's murder. My cousin, Junie Grin, was murdered by her highschool boyfriend back in 2009. We didn't find out who did it until 2012. I was young, but I knew what had happened. And It angered me. See-". He continued, but I stopped comprehending . I saw his words, flying out of his mouth and through the air, dark and morbid. The story was awful, something you'd hear on the news. And he became real. Kori, the sweater-vest wearing jerk, was no longer just a side-charachter of my life, but a person. And for a minute, I considered he may have some beauty in his mind.
Key word: considered. Didn't say I saw it.
The 3 essay's leading up to mine came and went, my mind racing a mile a minute. I fidgeted with my hair, I pulled down my sweater, I pulled on my tights, I dug the toe of my shoe into the carpet. And none of it changed the fact. I had to stand up there.
When I read the email yesterday morning, I considered sitting down Infront of my laptop, thinking up another subject, and re-writing the whole thing. Starting over. But there just wasn't the time. By the time I had one 2 stanza paragraph behing my blinking curser on the very important topic of my worst haircut, Loretta was urging me to hurry up and drive to her neurologist for her med refill, courtesy of her license suspension and lack of car. Yes, she got her licesned suspended in someone elses car. I didn't even ask. I didn't want to know.
"Averen?" My head snaps up, meeting Prof Simon's icey blue eyes. "It's your turn. I think you zoned out for a moment there."
Kori was smirking at me, and Anthony was smiling so wide his lips were on different techtonic plates. I stood up, making my way to the front of the room, essay in hand. I stood there, a bunch of heads looking at me, heads who wouldn't remember a word i'd said, but heads that would witness me recall my doom days, my titanic.
I look down at the paper in my Shakey hands, "My biggest injustice," My voice quakes like an earthquake, a dam about to burst. No one warned me oral presentations continue past the depths of my highschool. I stare into Kori's brown eyes, then back down at my words, words my soul are begging me not to utter. "Is being held back."
I pause, a long regretful pause.
The words pour out like word vomit, circling around my feet, flying right over the students Infront of me. But Kori wasn't bored. Kori wasn't tapping pencils on the desk like drums like Ian. Kori wasn't smiling a fake llama smile like Anthony. Kori was listening. It made my stomach twist and turn.
The words continued, and a lump rose in my throat, each word reigniting a memory, a memory I had fought so hard to bury under the happy ones. And everyone's mouth seemed to slowly open until 40 jaws were on the floor. Jesus people, someone recalls their cousin's murder and no one gets an eye, but a timid emo girl rants about her ex and you're invested like it's reality TV?
My voice got more airy, more open, more faint as I carried on, until I hit the last word. I closed my mouth, gritting my teeth. Professor Simon's started to say something but I didn't stick around to hear it. I ran out of class. I hadn't run out of class since sophomore year of highschool when I got a text that my grandpa was dying in. I should've known it was a type by the in. My dad was actually informing me that grandpa was FLYING in, but can you blame me?
I ran into the hallway, sitting down against the white sleek walls, hoarding air, gasping. My hands shook, shook so badly, shook with something I couldn't decipher. I shakily typed out a text to Loretta, telling her to come to the hallway I was in. I could see Kori through the angle of the doorway, staring at me, trying not to. He wasn't sitting flat, he was half up. Did he almost run after me? No. No way, I'm delusional. But that's not even a delusion I'd want to have.
Loretta comes running down the hallway like a Dad to an injured son, sliding across the last couple feet towards me like she was playing baseball. Tears forced out of my eyes, I tried to say something, but I just croaked like a bullfrog, a pathetic sound.
It took 20 minutes for my voice box to return to working order. "I shouldn't have done that Loretta, I really shouldn't have done that," I stared down at my hands, palms pressed to the cold floor, complete with the 5 remaining acrylics, the other five somewhere unknown.
"What did you do?" She pulled my head up, gently yet firmly. "Av look at me, what did you do?"
I couldn't answer, I just couldn't. I stood up, breaking away from her, tears starting to pour down my cheeks. I quickly wiped them away and turned around so she wouldn't see, slamming right into a firm chest.
"Brat?" He looked down at me, waves falling over his eyes.
I quickly tried to cover the evidence of my tear sesh. "God? Is that you? Oh no, it's just Lucifer."
He rolled his eyes, "Why were you crying? I mean, I know you're emo and all, but still."
Loretta glared at him. Oh no. This was her first time coming face-to-face with the jerk I had been ranting about. Second-handly turning her against. He glared back, and for some reason, my tear started again, pouring out my eyes like a faulty hose.
So there I was, inbetween two tall people, a shaking crying mess.
"I think you should go." Loretta hissed.
"And who are you? Her side-kick?"
I could feel the rage radiating off of her, green girls seeming to stick out of her head like electric rays, ready to zap the crap out of the bigot Infront of her.
"Oh, look, what's this.." She reaching into her pocket, returning with no item, just a middle finger, mouth opening in comical surpised. He scoffed and tried to move past her to me, but she shoved him away.
"Let's go av," He she grabbed me and started towing me away like a broken car. Kori stood there, glaring at me, or her, one of us. I flipped him off, he returned the favor, then adjusted his sweater vest.
I mouthed 'chipmunk'.
He mouthed 'klutz'.
I mouthed 'nerd'.
He just shook his head and turned away, lips curling into something of amusement.
My heart did a weird flutter.
I better call mom to see if we have a history of heart disease in the family because if that was what I think it was, anyone know a good bridge to jump off of?
Back at the dorm, I walked up to the Blondie poster, staring her down like scene in an old western.
"You good now?" Loretta mumbled from behind me.
"Yeah, yeah."
"Hey, what do you wanna go as for Halloween?"
I looked at the calendar. We only had 3 weeks to get a costume decided and together, I had to avoid Kori like the plague, and also walk back into a lecture that witnessed me run out because I told the tale of the time I took a boo boo to the heart.
Heaven help me.
Or hell, I'll take what I can get.