October
I had checked my phone before checking into work and I had seen Mark unexpectedly had texted me. He wanted to meet up today? Knowing that I work weekdays and I clearly stated that the weekends were okay as long as it didn't interfere with my mentoring program. Whatever he needed to meet up for could wait till the weekend, I didn't consider us to be best buds, I also had plenty of homework to do that didn't regard any native history. Plus we're ahead for the entire month of October considering he had games.
Mark: Do you mind if we meet today?
Me: I'm working. Can't.
Immediately he had texted back.
Mark: When do you get off?
Okay call me selfish but I needed my me time. Besides I didn't know exactly what type of relationship we had. Friends? I don't think so because once this semester is over, this partner thing between us will be as well. I'll settle with the term acquaintances. When we're both out in public or walking past one another in the oval of the school, he seems to not acknowledge my existence. Was it because every time he was surrounded by his group, he was ashamed to be near me? I mean a simple hello couldn't hurt, however I do the same which is why I throw it under the bus. It's not important, we're not important, only our grade for the class is what matters.
Me: Look I have tons of homework tonight so if you don't mind can we just stick to the norm.
I headed inside the elementary building not caring if he texted back. It's been about a month of having Mark as an acquaintance and our professor in native history expected each set of partners to know each other very well. I personally do not feel comfortable enough letting a complete stranger know about my entire life, especially if we cant acknowledge our existence outside of the cafe or classroom.
Work was frustrating. The little eight year old girl I had couldn't concept the idea of adding double digit numbers. She counted up to the numbers perfectly fine but when it came to the actual math part she stubbornly wanted to do the draw pictures and count how many there is. Giving up and hoping to try again with her Friday I left a little early. The parents were disappointed I think in the both of us because of my method not working and their daughter being behind in class. I promised them that she'd have it down by the end of the week but she also needed to practice at home in her spare time.
After getting off, I headed to my apartment and threw on a t-shirt and athletic shorts, I took my braid out that was braided tightly and combed it through with a wide tooth comb. I grabbed my backpack and took out my calculus homework. I actually knew what I was doing since I've gotten help from the tutor program. My quickest time ever, I finished in twenty minutes. I checked my phone to see if there was any important notifications. I scrolled past Marks and texted my sister back.
Alia: I cannot believe what had happened today. Remember that guy I dated through long distance in high school?
Me: I forgot his name.. Why?
My twin sister, Alia was completely opposite from me. We got along great growing up partly because fighting was forbidden in our home. My mom gave her the name wasabahinga meaning little bear because she was the most feistiest child. All these years of being her twin I couldn't tell if she lives up to the name or she is naturally just like that. Her qualities fit the meaning of little bear perfectly by protectiveness, competitiveness, smart, energetic, humorous, and the hidden sensitivity. The phrase opposites attract I believe is true since my sister and I are complete opposites with personalities yet we get along fairly.
I scrolled through my notifications waiting for a text back from Alia when accidentally clicking on Marks. Dammit. I read the message.
Mark: please
I huffed in guilt. I felt extremely bad for ignoring him, maybe he needed a friend or someone to talk to. There I go again with the friend term. This needed to be clarified. Maybe he couldn't meet this weekend and wanted to get some more questions answered.
Me: Okay, I'll meet you at the old cafe. In thirty?
I remained what I had on and straightened my living area up so that I didn't have to do all that when I came back. I vacuumed and swept my tile kitchen and bathroom since I wasn't expected to eat dinner tonight. I just assumed to grab something at the cafe. With ten minutes to spare I checked my phone seeing that Mark had texted back:
Mark: You're great! Ty
I pulled into the parking lot across the street from the old cafe and began walking to the building which the closer I got the more visible Mark became pacing back and forth. He always stayed on time. "Do you want to go in?" I asked finally reaching him. He looked terrible, like compared to the other times I've seen him. I mean he still looked attractive he just didn't look in the best mood.
"They're going to close in an hour. Come on." He said grabbing my hand guiding me past the old cafe.
"Do you mind we go somewhere else?" He asked stopping at a huge chevy black truck.
"Uh" I managed to say. I was completely lost. This took a one eighty quickly. One I was hungry and two I was not in the mood to hear a rant or whatever this temper tantrum thing he was throwing.
"Come on." He said helping me into his truck. I hadn't even realized that he held the door open for me to get in and dumbly, I did.
Once I made it in his high risen truck I knew this was a bad idea. "Mark." I said under my breath. He shut my door and made his way around his truck then got in. "Mark." I said again only this time I think he purposely ignored me. "Mark!" I said louder.
He looked at me. His brown eyes were different tonight, he looked like he had been fighting sleep and taking hits... hard at practices. In essence, he looked and seemed deprived. But of what?
"What's going on?" I asked worriedly.
He was silent for a moment, "Do you like pizza?" He questioned. Why did he sounded nervous? I mean why did he avoid my question. I thought we had established that only I can do that, and he demands the answer. "I mean would you like to get pizza with me?" He said finally looking at me, adding his smile, that smile that made me overwhelmed during our first encounter, formal encounter I suppose one could say.
"Um sure." I said caught off guard. I was expecting a response much more different than the one that came out of his mouth. I stayed looking forward, partly afraid of what he was going to say next. Then we sat for a minute or two but it felt like hours because the tension was thick.
He glanced over to me. Then cleared his throat. "I ordered a pepperoni pizza and I'm pretty sure it's ready for pickup." He confessed starting the diesel truck.
This time I was silent. Was he joking? Maybe it was drugs? At this point I was so confused at what was going on with him. My nerves began to rattle, he was making me nervous each minute we'd both share that awkward silence.
"I literally feel like Patrick from Spongebob trying to be logical." He said looking down in defeat.
I lightly giggled. "Mark Morelli you sure do have a way with words. Pepperoni is fine but I feel like you didn't just ask me to come all the way out for a pizza." He kept his head down.
"So it's alright?" He asked in reassurance, also ignoring my statement, for which is becoming a pattern tonight.
I couldn't tell if he was talking about the pizza but all I said was, "I bet you 10 dollars I can eat a whole medium pizza by myself."
I knew what it felt like being nervous and scared to say what you really wanted. I gave him what he had wanted, to go along with it. "I bet you twenty dollars I can't eat two of those medium pizzas." He said challenging me. "Actually make one of those a large."
"Mark are you challenging me to a pizza eating contest, because I am really not in the mood to kick your ass." I said jokingly. "But I mean if I gotta do what I gotta do then.." I trailed off.
"Those are fighting words." He said laughing lightly.
Then the silence came shortly after we shared those awkward chuckles between one another. "Alina, you sure are something else." He chimed interrupting the silence we keep continuing.
He had the country station playing quietly in the
truck as we rode to the pizza place. In this circumstance it felt soothing almost calming listening to what I'm assuming was today's country hits. I almost felt relaxed in this setting.
"Specifically 2011 country is way better." I said interrupting his train of thought and breaking the quiet realm filled between us.
He laughed. "Well that's specific. What's so special about 2011?" He challenged.
Thinking back to the year 2011 it was a heartbreak. A lot of things could've been special that year such as I getting my driver license, choreographing my first Pom routine, and making state in basketball. But the most unbearable and tragic moment I had ever experienced happened that year, losing my own mother, part of literal me gone instantly. I remember sulking to sad music, her country music and purposely forgetting all the special times prior to her death.
As I day dreamed about the past and my milestones from the year 2011, Mark was asking me what kind of country artist did I enjoy and what songs were hits back in 2011 until he noticed my silence and light tears.
Unknowingly I was crying. I swiped my tears away immediately. "Nothing. What were you saying?" I questioned trying to play it off. Stupid stupid stupid move. I wiped my eyes briefly which didn't help the situation at all. He noticed, and knew there was something wrong. I never had cried in front of any man other than three, my father, my brother and ex.
"Alina, you can talk to me." He said ignoring the guy talking in the intercom at the drive thru pizza shop. I hadn't realized we had stopped and were waiting for our pizza because of how deep my depression had let me get. It's my fault I couldn't control my emotions, yet it was him who had cried out for help, this wasn't my intervention. Most importantly he never claimed what was bothering him. Pacing back and forth for pizza? Yeah, no this shouldn't be about me.
"It's nothing. I think this was a mistake. I should probably get going. I have an eight a.m. tomorrow and I probably should be getting to bed." I scrambled my words ignoring him. My mind was telling me something completely different than the words coming out of my mouth. I actually wanted to know why he was so nervous and upset prior to this ride along but my motor mouth won that battle, completely ignoring my mind.
"Okay I can take you back um do you still want pizza? It's on me." He said disappointedly. A part of me was hoping he would say to stay but I expected this response. He wasn't the forceful kind of guy which I respected but sometimes made me question his worthiness. Or was it just what I was use to?
I shook my head no. I didn't want to waste his money, or his time. He probably thought I was freak, a sensitive and weird chick that's emotionally unstable with her life. Awfully, he probably only felt sorry for me.
He paused then turned towards me. "Was it something I did? Did I say something wrong? I'm sorry if I—."
"It's not you. I just need to be getting back." I said in a clearer tone than usual.
The ride back to the old cafe was completely silent. The only noises that came from us were our breathing and Marks jaw popping every now and then. He bought the pizza anyways and offered twice as he ate a few pieces.
Before I had gotten out of Marks truck he stopped me by gripping my wrist lightly. "Honestly, Did I do something? I mean I understand if it's my fault, I'm the one who called you all the way out here." He said sounding hurt.
Immediately I began,"No no no it's not you. I know this might seem cliche but it's literally me." The great rejection line that I've used plenty.
I sighed in defeat.
I got out, "Again Alina, if you need me I'm here. We don't have to limit ourselves to just small talk or because of this class project." He said sincerely.
"Goodnight." I said, smiling softly then walking away from him.
I heard him repeat it back to me after I turned around and headed to my car. I knew he was watching my every move as I walked away from him. I think we almost advanced into a friendship but as always, I was the one to ruin it.
Once I got to my car I flooded in tears. I wanted to slap myself out of this feeling and go back and tell Mark everything I've been through but I knew that I couldn't do that. If I couldn't tell my counselors, therapists or psychologist my feelings, I for sure couldn't tell Mark Morelli.