I hate that I miss you so much Emily
Mr Weinberger is inconspicuously absent which never happens. He is always here. I half suspect he actually lives in the school compound when everybody has gone home. He's like the Keykeeper, having awesome adventures, when the class balckboards and the vendine mahcnes come alive at night.
"Why are you eating in the cleaning closet?" Novahk says flopping down to sit down next to me.
"Are you stalking me?" I ask in between my turkey sandwich. He smiles and my stomach flips on itself. Somebody should tell the boy to stop smiling like that, like he just turned on a spotlight on you.
"Maybe." Caleb Harris is in my class. He probably told Novahk what happened in the class. But that makes no sense. Why would he come looking for me either ways?
"Are you here because of what happened in chemistry class."
"What happened in Chemistry class?" He looks genuinely surprised. Either is a very liar, though I can practically see every line on his face. He has laugh lines at the corners of his eyes and the light coming from the windows makes his eyes murky and swirling.
And then I notice his legs. He and I are Leg. To. Leg and you just don't ignore that. Not when I can practically feel the heat coming off him and he smells good too. Like shampoo and something fresh.
"Brad Hampton and Trisha Beckeley broke up."
"Since when have you been keeping up with the school gossip?" He's pulls both his eyebrows up. He looks like he's ready to shoot with them. My mother who is an expert in classical dance had to do movements just with her eyebrows sometimes, moving them up and down gracefully. She said to me once, it took a lot of years perfecting that technique, but Novahk does it impeccably.
"Since I got dragged into the tragic titled Hampton and his Mistress's sorrow. Mistress is Trisha by the way." He guffaws at that. I think he name is pretty lame, I was just trying to make a point but Novahk clutches his stomach and laughs like it's really funny or something.
Wow suddenly I am Miss Funnybones.
"Are you sneaking off tonight again?"
"'If you meant to see me you need not move in circles. Just ask. I will fly to your room in a heartbeat. Literally." The way he says heartbeat, it makes all the blood rush to my ear and my stomach does this weird knotty thing again. I thought that happened only when something bad happened but sitting here with Novahk is the farthest thing from bad. Maybe it's the smell.
"I didn't mean that." I mumble but Novahk smiles anyhow.
I want to ask him why? Why are you being so nice to me? I don't deserve your kindness. Why don't you pity me instead? That would help not thinking about you anymore.
But there's a part of me that fears if I ask him these questions he may wake up. Maybe he's doing that in a dreamlike that, maybe he's high and when I ask him he will remember and walk away. Or maybe it will be the disappointment that drives him away. Whatever it is, I don't want him to leave.
He helps me keep the demons a bay. They don't bother me much when I think of Novahk. They want the darkness inside me but Novahk, he's the light and they are all afraid of light. Maybe he should have been named Krishna instead. It would be an apt name for him.
"So are you going to tell me what you are doing in a closet?"
"It's not a closet."
"There are brooms and buckets behind us."
"It's practically a room," I argue. I defend Mr Weinberger . That guy cleans up after all our shit at school. He deserves some respect, at least a nice office.
"Do you really like brooms and buckets that much."
"And cobwebs. Don't forget them. I aspire to be a cleaning lady when I grow up." Novahk grins.
"I have an assignment to do." He says pulling his laptop out from the bag. "I have to proofread it all. I haven't even printed it out."
"My lunch is over." I announce dusting the breadcrumbs from my jeans but I make no move to stand way. That would mean bumping on his leg or moving away from his warmth. But I kind of like it sitting here, his legs touching mine. Emily would laugh at the scandalous thoughts in my mind.
"Don't judge me or anything," he says typing away. Clack-clack-clack. It's an English assignment. She's the only teacher who takes all the assignments printed
"For what?" It's about a piece on History of eighteenth century literature or something. It's probably an AP class since I don't remember the assignment. I am in remedial.
"I don't usually leave my homework till the last minute."
"Why do you always say that."
"Say that?"
"Not to judge you." His smile slips. I remember him saying something along the same lines with his bird.
"It's my line," he says his mask of cool slipping back on. But he grips his laptop tighter and for a moment I think if there's more to Novahk then he lets out. "Like a trademark. Don't judge me because I am rad anyways."
My life is an open story for everybody to read and then chew it out, analyzing into bits and pieces. Maybe it's the opposite for him. I wonder if I tap his head I can let his story out, the words flying away in every direction words that define him and me chasing them with a net in hand. Like chasing fireflies. Or his eyes. If I can find the key that holds the lock to his eyes, if I can just turn his chin towards me and see his story flashing in his dark eyes.
What's your story Novahk?
Mom drives me to Dr Phillipa's office after school. Dr Asenberg is still not back from vacation. Mom called and found out and when I am sitting safely with my seabeat buckled she asks. "You okay if we see Dr. Phillipa again?" Ruth who is now assisting in Dr Phillipa's office calls them one by one and they file into her room.
That woman totally unnerves me. I want to say no but I hardly think there are any other psychiatrists in the town. Mom would have to drive me to Dover to find one, which is an hour away. I wold like the drive but the streets are a slippery slope and really right I don't want another strange man/woman dissecting my life. Two is the limit.
"No mom. She's good let's go to her." Mom isn't convinced. I have no idea what the both of them talked about but it seems to have left mom in doubt.
After about an hour of sitting and reading useless magazines which tell me how to style my hair so that I can get boys to notice me(yeah right) or which type of prom dress suits my personality best, and would make me stand out(is that even a thing?), there are only three patients left.
There's a humming that fills entire room from the small aquarium that sits at the corner. I flip through another magazine. The cover model is so thin, two of her would fit in me.
"Hey there," a girl asks who is sitting to my left. She looks about ten and she peers at the magazine in my hand and then up at me. "Are you Brazilian?" she asks.
"No I am American. But of Indian descent." I explain.
"I see," the girl says and then smiles up at me. "I am American too." She raises her hand in acknowledgment. I smile. She looks too young to be in this clinic.
"What's your name?" I ask her. I am not social with people in general but I have no problem talking to children. In fact I am quite good with them. The kids my mom used to teach dance to, used to be babysitted by me till their moms picked them up from our home.
"Clarissa," she says.
"That's a pretty name." I compliment her.
"What's your name?"
"It's Krishna." I say
"That's a pretty name too. As pretty as you," she declares and I can't help but give her a small smile. She frowns a bit and asks, "how do you spell that again?"
"KR-ISH-NA. Stress the middle part." She repeats after me, perfectly saying it. "That's a good girl." Clarissa's name is called out next and her mom who is on her other says. "C'm on sweetie. It's our turn to meet the doctor."
"Bye Krishna." She waves at me and I wave back.
"Hello Krishna." Dr Phillipa tells me when I enter her office. "Nice to have you back here again. Here have some water."
Your best friend died, here have some water. You are in shock, have some water. Water is supposed to cure everything.
"No thanks." I drum my fingers over the glass table. Under it there's a note written in a loopy handwriting. I will love you always. Love, Max.
"Frankly I wasn't expecting to see you here again." That makes the two of us.
"I have mandatory counseling every two weeks. I thought it'd rather be you than some other doctor trying to crack open my life just by poring over my file."
"Thank you for giving me the pleasure," she says dryly and that's the first thing she has said that is out of character of her usual I'm a Barbie and I run around with unicorn vibe she has going on.
She has a stack of Jane Austen books all ranging from Pride and Prejudice (Mr Darcy!)to Emma(boring). Emily and I would have endless debates over Mr Rochester. If really was the tragic hero everyone makes him out to be or a totally creepy pervert.
I am convinced of the latter.
"You are a zombie." Emily would say on our reruns of classic. We loved the old Kane and Abel series and would watch it together whenever we could. Since we had mandatory reading of Jane Eyre in freshman year, our debates almost escalated to pillow fights and mayhem whenever we were reading together.
"I like Mr. Darcy. I think he's perfect normal."
"Yeah but Mr. Rochester is dreamy."
"One word for him. Forbidden. That's why Jane was attracted him in the first place. And that's why you like Tyson Gaddio."
"I like him because he is hot." And a twenty two year old who worked at Target.
I had a crush on Tyson too but I didn't mention that to her, "Anyways he is like modern day Edward."
"Who Tyson?"
"No stupid, Mr. Rochester."
Emily laughs. I love her laugh. It's musical, that's really a ting. And infectious."I think Mr. Rochester would be sexy as a vampire. He would rock it." I would just roll my eyes at her.
"You mean he would rock the whole sparkling thing."
"Let's start with something simple. What color do you see in the sky." Dr Phillipa says. She has no notebook in her hand and she doesn't even bother to look into my file.
"Is that a trick question?"
"No. Just say it." She taps at the window behind her desk. The sky looks like somebody dumped industrial waste on it. Murky gray about to dump it's shit on us.
"Gray."
"Okay I see," she nods and then rotates her chair to gaze at the sky too. "do you like Northfield's sky?"
I shake my head. "No I hate it. It looks like the upper part of a cavern." And I am trapped inside it.
"My dad moved us to New York when we were eight years old and I had to leave all my friends behind. Back when I looked at the skyline of Northfield I felt the same. So small and trying to bear down on us. I hated it here."
Why is she telling me all this? If she thinks that will get me to sprout everything about me and Emily, she is wrong. I don't want the good memories of Emily to be tainted, which is bound to happen if I put it out to the world for them to dissect. That's the only thing they can't get to yet. My memories.
"Did you go back to New York after that?" She has got me curious, that I will admit.
"I did. I graduated from New York State University. And you know I realized something when I was there. All those fantasies of my childhood were that. Just fantasies."
I will go where my parents go. I can't imagine my life without mom or dad, who have been the constant variable in m solar system. But if I could, I would want to live in a big city. I have seen those people. They hardly care about the next person, the people they travel with on subways, or go to work with. There's just too many people and it's like everybody has just stopped bothering to know each other
That would be a nice change for somebody like me.
"The sky is same everywhere." Dr Piper continues "It's vast and unending. We change or perspective, we change everything. Kind of like the pinhole experiment thing."
"That's a nice theory," I say politely. I just don't believe it.
"Now tell me when you think of Emily, what colors come to your mind?" Not colors, feelings. Warmth like the sun.
"C'mon it's just a color," Dr Piper urges me. It's not just a colour for me but I have to throw her off the trail.
"Blue and pink." Emily loved the colors and I find myself surprised that I blurted out an answer so close to truth. She does remind me of those colors. I don't know how she did, but Dr Piper managed to put this information on the table without even me realizing it. This woman is even shrewder than I had given her credit for. This Barbie thing is totally a cover.
"Blue is the warmest colour."
"That's a lesbian film. Why did you say it? Are you gay?"
"No. I am not gay" Dr Piper protests than says in her normal voice. "Not that I have anything against them. I think they are really interesting people. But I mean it. Blue is the warmest color. It's the color of the skies and the river and the oceans. It's nature's favourite color"
"Emily dyed her hair blue in the beginning of junior year. She totally nailed the looked." Her jet black Asian hair and her olive complexion complete with the cat shadow she had inherited from her mom she looked freaking awesome when she stood at the top of the cheerleader pyramid.
"How did Emily look like? I am trying to paint a picture of her." Dr Piper explains.
"Isn't that written in my file?" I ask. I thought it would be full of Emily. But then again it's my baggage not hers
"No that's why I am asking you."
"What exactly is written in my file?" I ask.
"I am sorry I can't tell you that."
"That is my whole life history there", I laugh bitterly. "And you can't tell me. That's absurd"
"It's against the patient-doctor policy, I really can't."
I imagine something written on the following lines.
Patient Krishna Covalho. Has Post Traumatic Stress Disorder because best fried died and she can't remember a thing around the time that happened. Freak and insomniac and can never be treated. Brownie points because she also apparently can see demons. Wanna bet she is going to be exactly like that Psycho film guy when she grows up.
"She was Chinese and really pretty. We became friends when we were nine years old and she had just moved into the neighborhood." It felt like she had brought the whole galaxy of stars with her. "She was petite and she hated that I was so taller than her." I am not sure why I am telling this to Dr Piper. She knows about the video so any picture she paints of Emily can't be good. I guess I am trying to repaint that.
"What about your other friends?" Dr Piper asked kindly. She offered me a plate in which chocolate chip cookies were spread out on. How n earth did she know I liked chocolate chip cookies. I am pretty sure I have never told her that or Dr Asenberg.
"I don't have other friends." I ignore the plate but she pushes it towards me and the now the cookies are staring at me with their cookie eyes.
"Maybe a special friend?" she prodded.
"If you think I have a boyfriend then you are really delusional." I don't mean to be snarky and the moment I realize how mean my words are I take a cookie and start eating it. Words once out in the open, good or bad can never be taken back. Dr Piper ignores my comment and my pathetic apology and writes something on my file.
Evaluation: Totally and hopelessly nuts. That's probably why she doesn't want to show the file to me. Dr Asenberg probably wrote a lot of things about me, inline comments and now she is doing the same and when he gets back and finds it updated I bet he will have a good laugh about it.
"What are your hobbies Krishna?"
"Does watching TV count?" She smiles at me. It's a small one but nevertheless. "You are a teenager. So yeah it does."
"Doctor what's your take on magic 8 ball?" I ask her suddenly. She looks wide eyed at me for a second before saying. "Don't know. I had one of those a long time ago. But I thought they gave pretty generic answers."
"Me too. That's why I don't use it anymore."