It doesn't take long for things to go bad.
Soon after Alex, her best friend Ayesha joins us. Ayesha is a small and sweet girl who only wears different shades of blue Hijabs to match with the color of her eyes. She has freckled cheeks and thin lips, and claims to have hair that reaches almost down to her waist. Her tone of speech is very polite, which only enhances her soft personality.
Edgar dives into a conversation about what happened at Physics class, which both the girls find really funny.
While we're talking, three seniors walk past our table, and one of them lightly pulls Ayesha's Hijab, teasingly asking, "Hey, isn't it hot inside that?" He and his buddies burst into laughter and walk away. My ears grow hot. Alex stands up to protest, but Ayesha grabs her arm.
"Ayesha!" Alex says, disbelief on her face. "You can't just let it be."
The Muslim girl calmly shakes her head as she fixes her Hijab. "It's okay. It's not that I am afraid of them, I just don't want to do anything that will make it worse."
"But . . ." Alex sighs in exasperation.
Ayesha shakes her head. "You don't see too many Hijabis at this school, right? With this piece of clothing," she points at her head, "I carry the weight of protecting an entire race's reputation. So I have to act carefully, Lex."
"But still," Edgar says, sounding angry as well, "they fucking disrespected you."
She nods. "They have disrespected me, so Allah will punish them one way or the other. Besides, no matter where I go, there will always be some people like this, and I can't do anything to change that. But of course, if it goes too far, I know how to stand up for myself, and my religion."
She smiles. "But that's not what's important. What's important is that I have people like you all around me, people who respect me and stand up for me. I'm so lucky!" She hugs Lex from the side, who pats her arm.
What a positive minded person. She's had a good upbringing.
The topic is changed quickly. Somehow, before I know it, the conversation has drifted to Rain Castleton and how he suffered from academic pressure.
While the conversation is going on, I mostly keep silent for my lack of knowledge on the topic. Though I decided multiple times to give that guy a search and get to know the basics of his case, I keep forgetting to. Maybe I don't care that much about it. It's just another death, another life lost to the weight of the world. Just like the world didn't stop after Dawn left, it also won't stop after Rain Castleton did. But Rain will be remembered by many, while Dawn will get buried under the sands of time.
Isn't that unfair? My Dawn deserves to be remembered too.
I shake the thought away, and focus on the conversation instead. They talk about how shitty Rain Castleton's parents are, how their tears in front of the cameras were fake, and how Rain Castleton has a twin brother who ran away from home few years back, and all such stuff.
Makes me wonder, do some people give birth to children only to ruin their lives?
It isn't as if I'm not having a good time—I really am. But that's when Alex tells me something that ruins everything.
"Cedar," she says, her voice soft and kind, "Don't take too much pressure on yourself when it comes to studies. Studying isn't everything, you know. I know your mom is very strict, so just try to hold on there, hmm?"
Irritation rises in me. She has this look of sympathy on her face, which makes me feel like someone extremely pitiful. I don't know why people should think that just because I take studying hard, I might end up having the same fate as Rain Castleton. How generalized can something be?
Though I didn't want to, I end up saying, in an evidently unamused tone, "Don't worry, I won't commit suicide."
As much as I dislike my mother, I cannot escape the fact that there are several matters on which we have the same viewpoint. Before Dawn, even I thought that suicides are done by cowards who can't get up their ass and deal with life. But now, no matter how guilty I feel about it, it seems like it isn't very easy to change your mentality about something.
A look of hurt flashes across her face. "Huh? That's not what I..." Her words get stuck, and I realize the gravity of what I just unnecessarily threw at her. And that's when Edgar speaks up.
"Dude, what the fuck? She is only worried about you! Why are you being such an asshole?"
I bite my lips. I ruined it all. Why did I have to say something like that? She was just being her usual kind self. She was worried about me. Usually, it is evident that Edgar doesn't mean most of the things he says, which is why it is easy to not take them to heart. But this time, the anger in his voice is real, and it makes me feel like I can't breathe.
"I'm sorry. I should go," I say, stand up and head out the cafetaria, leaving the carton of chocolate milk on the table, unfinished.
My legs bring me to my locker. I feel terribly anxious. I keep on scratching the back of my hand with my fingers. I open the locker door quickly, and look at the photo on the door. It calms me down to an extent.
See, Dawn? Without you, I can't even have a proper conversation with people without ruining it somehow.
I keep looking at it, hoping that if I focus enough on it, maybe the photograph will suck me in and take me to the past, where I will get a second chance to save my Dawn. Nothing like that happens. Absentmindedly, I grab my phone, which I kept behind a dictionary. When I open it, I see a message from mom.
I frown. Why would she message me now? She usually never does. Fear rises in me. Did Dale's train crash? Maybe dad had a heart attack? Robbery? As I open the message, more dangerous thoughts cross my mind.
Mom :
Hiiii
I found ur underwear under the MATTRESS!
thats disgusting
Get rid of this habit before getting married, i tell u
I smile. It is July. Can't believe he had the guts to message me from mom's phone. It is on WhatsApp, so he probably already deleted it from her device, but it is still appearing in mine. He sent these three hours ago, shortly after I got to school.
I instantly feel slightly better. It is so weird how a few ridiculous messages from him could do that. I put the phone back where it was. I think of how I am going to face both Edgar and Alex. Maybe I will finally get my wish, and Edgar would lea-
"Hey! Earth to Nerd!"
I snap out of my thoughts and look beside me, where Edgar is leaning against a locker, an annoyed look on his face.
"Didn't you hear the bell?" he asks.
I look around and see people hurrying back to their classes. I look at the hallway clock, striking one minute past the end of break time.
An "Oh..." is all I say.
Edgar sighs. "Are you an idiot? Do you know how much it hurts when someone you like gets mad at you?" His tone is not accusing at all. It is surprisingly gentle. As gentle as he can get, that is.
I look down and say in a low voice, "Dawn never got mad at me."
"Of course he didn't. He completely spoiled you, didn't he?"
Spoiled me. Maybe he did. He really never once got mad at me, or talked with me in a high voice. If he had to request or explain something, he would do it in his soft and gentle voice, always accompanied with a small smile.
"I will apologize to her," I say.
"Damn right you will. If you don't, I will punch you in the face and feed you to the goddamn vultures."
"They only eat dead bodies."
"Look at you, being a nerd even when I am giving you death threats! Here, finish this." He thrusts the milk carton towards me, which I hastily take. Then he gives me a meat bread.
"Why . . . "
"I didn't do it, Lexi told me to give this to you. She said she is sorry, even though it's not her fault. People misunderstand her all the time! Can't believe she worries about your stupid ass. And why, you ask! Yes, you can diet like a stupid-"
"I'm not-"
"- but dieting isn't the same as fasting. Are you blind? Soon no one would be able to differentiate you from a fucking electricity pole. Not eating has ruined your eyesight. Great, now I sound like a nerd."
I recover from my shock and stutter, "Th-thanks?"
He rolls his eyes. "Don't get too full of yourself and think that I did it because we are friends or something. The girl I love, loves you. We can never be friends."
I grin. "At least you finally admit that you love her."
"Wha-?" His eyes widen. "I- holy shit, you're gonna make my hair go white. Come to class, quick."
He turns to leave, but stops midway. Turning back to me, he says, in a hesitant way, "Also! I don't know who the heck messaged you to make you smile like that, but you should do it more often. Your depression radiates off to me as well!"
He stomps back to class.
I watch his back, clutching the bread and milk tighter. I think of what July told me about the different ways in which humans show love.
I smile, taking a sip from the milk.
-------------------
After school ends, I wait to bump into Alex in the lockers.
I'm standing in front of my locker, the door open, and going through a flip notes bundle on Geography that I made last night as I wait. Edgar has already left, saying he has a part time job. It's nice to not have him around blabbering shits and draining out all my energy.
"Woah, Sputnik Sweetheart!" Someone exclaims right beside my ear, making me flinch and drop the flip notes. My left ear is shocked.
"Shit," Alex says, crouching down to pick them up, and though my male instincts scream to not let her, I just stand there, still recovering from the shock. I blame it on my weak heart, whose systole rises a little too easily. "I'm so sorry. Couldn't contain my excitement." She hands them back to me.
I look at the small drawing of a satellite that I drew last night on the first page of the bundle just to take my mind off from thoughts of sleep. The cover illustration of Haruki Murakami's Sputnik Sweetheart. Nothing too complicated - just a circle and four lines coming out of it, just like how the first satellite in space Sputnik-1 looked like. It was not very well drawn at first, as I always have trouble drawing straight lines with a free hand. July helped with that.
"Thank you. And yes . . .Sputnik Sweetheart," I awkwardly reply, the excitement she was talking about slowly replacing the shock. It is very uncommon to find someone who even knows Murakami here.
"God, I love this book," she says, her eyes glowing. "And Haruki Murakami. Damn, the way he writes!"
"Yeah," I nod, trying to keep the sudden surge of excitement controlled. My heart keeps on pacing hard. Oh, the joy of finding someone who reads the same author as you. "Me too. He is my favorite."
"Amazing." She laughs as she opens her locker and takes out a butterfly hairpin. "Although, he is pretty bad at writing women. Sometimes it's quite uncomfortable."
I nod. "I've heard of that as well. His books are more of a guilty pleasure to me. His books cater to a very specific niche of mine, so I just end up ignoring the problematic stuff. Which is probably not right, but still."
She shrugs. "Everyone is allowed to like what they want! I myself really enjoyed some of his books."
I only nod. An awkward silence spreads between us. I close the door of my locker as soon as she does. Seeing my chance, I take a breath and say, "I'm sorry about earlier."
She blinks at me for a while. It increases my nervousness. Does she think a simple sorry isn't enough? Should I elaborate the reason behind my behavior? No, won't that be like giving excuses? What should I-
"It's okay, Cedar," she finally says. "I was at fault too."
I don't know what to say to that, but I should probably say something like 'No, that's not true. I was being an asshole for no reason' or 'You were just worried about me, which I appreciate'. I should really say something, but while I try to grasp the words hard enough to bring them to my tongue, she speaks up again.
"It's just that . . ." she says in a low voice, unconsciously touching her hearing aid. I notice a tiny mole on her earlobe. "Sometimes, I get very afraid that I won't be able to say something important to someone before it's too late."
I see something in her eyes, something along the lines of grief; a partial death quite identical to mine. I don't know anything about her personal life, so I can't tell for sure. But the sentence repeats once in my head, and I know I won't be able to let it go.
"I understand," I say. But was I really afraid? No. In fact, I only make mistakes, and regret later. I never remain conscious to never make a mistake in the first place. That's how I keep hurting myself, and others. After all . . .
"Go to sleep, my Cedar."
No. I close my eyes and push my mind to the present. I open them, and find her striking eyes staring at me, unreadable.
"Well, let's get past that, shall we?" she asks, brows raised.
"Yeah." I nod. "I'm really sorry."
"It's all good. So, Edgar's left?"
"Yeah, part time job."
"About him." A natural smile spreads on her lips. "He might seem pretty annoying at first, but don't push him away. Trust me, the more you know him, the more you'll like him." She chuckles.
"That so?"
"Yeah. As hard as it is to believe, he has actually wanted to be friends with you for a while now. It just didn't happen the way he thought it would."
"Really?" That sort of surprises me.
She nods. "Friendship is something that has always scared him. So please don't hurt him, Cedar."
--------------------
When I get home, I head straight to my room, eager to see July and tell him about my eventful day.
I open the door to my room, and for a moment I am so surprised that I just stand on the doorway, dumbfounded.
"July?" I call to the figure sitting in front of the window on the bed, knees hugged to his chest, head buried on his arms on top of his knees.
He raises his head. "Oh, Cedar." His voice is tired. "You're home already. How was your day?"
I quickly get in and lock the door behind me. "July, what's this- what's wrong?" I ask, looking at the mess of crumpled papers and paint brushes on the floor. The notebook I had given him earlier this morning was open to a blank white page beside him. I hurriedly go and sit on the bed.
"Nothing," he replies, "it's gone."
"What's gone, July?"
"Like everything else, I have lost it too. I can't draw anymore, Cedar."
"That's just because you are out of practice. That's what you said-"
He shakes his head. "It's not the same. It's just not there. It's empty."
I don't understand what he is saying. What is empty? What does he mean by 'there'? Even though he is smiling, trying to put on a sheepish look, I can tell that he is sad. His eyes are looking a little swollen too. Did he cry?
I put my bag aside. "You see, art is all about . . . er, inspiration," I tell him. "You should start with something that inspires you."
"Inspires me?"
"Uh-huh. Someone, or something you love can become the biggest source of your inspiration. Like a muse? Instead of something random, start with something like that."
I didn't know I was much of a motivational speaker, but at least it seems to be working a little. July is staring at the blank page, lost so deeply in thought that he is forgetting to blink.
"You think I can do it?" he asks.
"Mhm." I try to smile as I put my hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure you can."
He smiles too, this one more real and genuine. He looks out the window to some distant point. Silence settles between us. I wonder what he used to draw before.
"You told me . . ." he says, "that it is unfair I'm gonna leave you. But you know what feels more unfair?" He turns to me. "That Dawn got to spend seventeen years with you, while I never even . . ."
He bites his lips. Something stirs inside me. "Even. . .?"
A look of realization passes across his face. "Ah! I should clean this mess up before Queen Alison comes in." He moves off the bed and starts picking up the crumpled papers from the floor. "By the way, did you get my message? I deleted them, don't worry. It was such a thrilling experience though!"
I watch him as he picks up the brushes and carefully puts them on the notebook.
A realization hits me.
Ah, was he . . .?
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Hello lovely readers!!
So what do you think about July at this point? What do you think he will draw first?
Everybody gangsta until Lexi's worst "hunch" comes true...
It is hard to write Edgar, because he is a character who doesn't mean 90% of the things he says, but can't say even 1% of the things he means. But he is surely fun to write, and there will be more things to unfold on him in the later chapters! I hope you all will come around to like him, if you don't yet.
Thanks a lot for reading. Hope you have a good day!
- love, Poma