7
Zoey.
The actual place Rut wants me to see isn't where the girl met the stranger, it's a nook hideout.
In the middle of the forest, hidden between mountains, is plain ground. There's a little passage over at the side, and through there is a waterfall dropping to the river. It didn't meet my conditions. There are more than eight people—teenagers—hanging out here. But they aren't partying or doing anything loud, they're just hanging out. Some are playing old-fashioned games on the ground while others are taking a swim. It's a place that doesn't exactly calls out to the Rut I know.
If there's a word that can describe this place in Rut's tongue, it's boring.
"We found this place in the summer before junior year. At first, it was just me and Rigel, but after some time we found some good friends that'll treasure this place as much as we do," he says as he tours me around the place. If Rut is popular back at school, here it's the same. Others greet him as we pass by and he greets them back, sporting his easy grin. "Artemis Dematteo, a very good friend, preferred it to be called Our World, but she went away and the name went away with her so now it's back to simply "hideout". We're open for suggestions though."
There is over fifteen people hanging here and there. All of the students—says Rut—either come from our school or Middleton High School so there are familiar faces as there are those I haven't seen before.
"That's Isaac, the one with Rigel," Rut tells me and calls out to them. They both smile towards us but soon goes back to their conversation, and Rut turns his attention back to me. "What do you think? The place is great, right? It's fresh. We have a pool to cool down in if it gets too hot but with winter, I'm guessing no one's going to swim in there by the end of December."
I look around the place to find a person or two, but I don't see what I'm looking for. "Brad and Harry aren't here?"
"Nope. It's just me and Rigel. Neil O'Donnell and Derek Mason are part of us too but they rarely come. What do you think?" he asks me again, anticipating what I'm going to say about his nature hideout.
When I look up at him, he's waiting for my answer, looking like a kid waiting to be given a lollipop. "I never thought you like this kind of place," I tell him honestly, "You're a party animal. This place would be boring for someone like you."
Rut laughs at my comment. "Yeah well, it looks like you don't really know me at all, do you, Zoey?"
"And you think you know me?" I shoot at him back.
Laughing, Rut holds his hands up in surrender, and grins, "I'll stand corrected."
Stubborn but easygoing. Reserved but friendly. Silent but outspoken. These are usually the paradoxes my friends describe me as. I can talk, be friendly, and warm if I want to just like how Rut can be serious, concerned, and furious if he talks about his father. I believe everyone is like this. Full of paradoxes. They can be rigid but they can also be carefree, just like how people can laugh and also cry. Given all this, even Rut, who enjoys going to loud parties all the time also wants to have a little peace and quiet.
Even Rigel, who— every time I see him in school—always looks reserved and shy is now talking openly with Isaac and everyone else. This side of Rut and Rigel makes me realize we're not limited to the things we show to others. It's like having another person inside of you that only comes out in the right environment and with the right people. It's strange but it's beautiful. This is one example of the beauty of life, and I'm looking at it face to face.
When Rut leaves me for a minute to talk to his friends, I explore the place on my own. There's so much green, and the snow on them looks like sprinkles over an avocado-flavored ice cream. There are a lot of people and the waterfall is loud, but they don't make me nervous. Instead, they make me feel like I have nothing to worry about. I can just lie here on the riverbank and listen to the running water, the faint conversation in the background, the sound of birds, the sound of the wind, and I think of nothing because everything is at peace.
This feeling is beautiful. This is beautiful. Rut was right when he said I don't easily smile to strangers, but with my eyes closed and everything around me, I smile.
A few minutes later, someone calls me and though I don't know whose voice it is, I open my eyes and sit up. In front of me, two girls are in their underwear, looking at me curiously. They're both blonde but the other one is blonder and has refreshing green eyes. She looks bubbly than the other one and I expect her to talk first to which I'm not mistaken.
"I'm Simone," she introduces herself, smiling, and then refers to the other girl, "and this is Clair. What's your name? Are you new here? I never saw you before."
"Would you slow down? You're scaring her," Clair reprimands and Simone doesn't seem to care.
"My name's Zoey," I introduce timidly. "This is my first time here." This is like when I'm introducing myself to a new club in school, but there's no better way to get my name out there.
I'm not good at meeting new people, and maybe that's the reason why I'm stuck to having two friends while others have dozens. Now, as Simone asks me all that she wants to know about me, I answer like a robot, careful not to talk too much and too little. Clair sits comfortably beside her and talks only when Simone addresses her or when she has something to say. When Simone gets up to grab something to eat, Clair chuckles awkwardly as she looks over to me and apologizes.
"I'm sorry about Simone. She gets excited whenever there's someone new," Clair explains, playing with the pebbles on the bank.
"It's okay," I say as if I mean it, "She's like Rut." This I mean though. "They both talk too much," I mumble so she won't hear but she does, and instead of getting offended, Clair laughs and agrees with me.
"Tell me about it. Those two are like a match made in heaven. They can't keep their mouth shut." When I agree with her, she grins and throws a pebble to the river. The water ripples and when I throw another stone, it keeps on rippling. "Are you going to stay here?" She glances at me.
"I don't know, but I like the place. It's nice."
"It's peaceful."
"Too peaceful for Rut," I say matter-of-factly. "If there's anywhere you'll surely find him in, it's in a party. Not this kind of place."
Clair giggles. "We had a party here last summer. It was Rut's idea but since he almost burned the forest with a torch, Rigel announced this is a no-party zone."
"He did that?"
"Yep," Clair laughs, "He was pretty wasted that time, but we're surprised when he got up and started running around the place. He picked up a burning wood from the bonfire and kept on shouting that he's a torchbearer in the Olympics. This part here almost burned down," she grins and points to the wall of bushes behind us. "If we didn't douse him with water, he wouldn't have stopped."
"That's Rut everyone in school knows," I say, "Once he threw a party at his place. It started at seven but it didn't end until the police broke it off. Later that morning, I heard my parents talking that he stole a police car and drove it around town. Eventually, he spent a night in jail."
"He's a pain in the ass when he's drunk."
"And will blow your ear off when he's sober."
Clair laughs at my exchange and soon enough, I find myself laughing with her. When our laughter dies down, she's left smiling as she plays again with the pebbles. She tells me more about what they have here—a group of misfits fitting in a society made for them and by them. I don't think Rut is a misfit but I'm not the one to judge. Like he said before, I don't really know him. Clair tells me about herself and in turn, I tell her some things about me. Towards the end, I find out she's French but doesn't speak a word of French and the origin of her name which was intentionally taken after Debussy's Clair de Lune. From me, she now knows that I had a dog named Corby and my best friend is a die-hard Arthurian fanatic. I can tell her I'm the opposite of what my name means, but I don't.
"You should stay. It's nice having someone to talk to like this," Clair says and she means it. She smiles at me and I can't help but smile back. She's right. This is nice.
"This is a surprise."
Clair and I turn to Rut by the side, and one glance from her reminds me again of Rut running wildly, burning bushes behind him, and I think she's also reminded of Rut staying behind bars because we both laugh. On seeing us, Rut asks what's funny, but we ignore him. Simone comes afterwards with Isaac and the snack she promised us half an hour ago. As Clair walks to them, Rut sits beside me, grinning and looking satisfied with what he saw.
"You actually smiled, to someone other than Lancelot and Gale," he grins, "I knew you had it in you, Zoey. I feel like I just watched my kid take its first step. I'm so proud."
I don't listen to him when Clair glances at me. I turn to her and we're both hiding a grin. Rut, noticing this, squints his eyes. "Why do I feel like you two are gossiping about me? Is that why you're laughing?"
"We were just talking, right?" Clair cracks up, shrugging her shoulders.
Isaac and Simone look at us as if we're talking nonsense, but turning around, Rut looks at me suspiciously. "What did you tell her?"
"Nothing much," I grin, "Just you behind bars."
At first, Rut eyes me like a crazy person, shaking his head, but seconds later, he stares at me as if he's trying to figure me out right here right now.
"What?"
"Nothing," he replies, then smiles, "You know what, Zoey? I stand corrected. I don't know everything about you, but I know this: Your face lights up when you smile and you look really cute when you do. There's no better way to put it." He says it as if he means it, and I don't say it out loud, but I hope he does.
Back home, my parents invite Rut to dinner, and soon, the kitchen table is filled with talk and laughter. Even Rut is popular with my parents. And the fact that Dad and he share a thing for automotives keeps them talking for hours. When they've finally moved on, Rut tells my parents what we did and where we went, but he's careful not to disclose the location of their hideout. He also tells them I made a friend. And by the end of dinner, the worried look of my parents' faces yesterday is replaced by a smile and contentment.
As they visit my room, they're careful not to mention Grandma, Corby, or any of the other things. They ask what I'm feeling and I tell them I feel fine, and for what it's worth, they believe me.