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Into the brave new world
I hope I see you on the other side
Of this changing world
Baby when my ship pulls in
I try to believe in anyone
Look at the state Im in.
But for now
Im just sitting at the table
Hearing songs
Wishing I was able, stable
Nah nah nah nah nah
I hope I see you on the other side
Brother dont try to find
Dont try to believe in anyone
For I would change your mind
Baby when my ship pulls in
I try to believe in anyone
Look at the state Im in, Im fine
But for now
Im just sitting at the table
Hearing songs
Wishing I was able, stable
Nah nah nah nah nah
I hope I see you on the other side
But for now
Im just sitting at the table
Hearing songs
Wishing I was able, stable
Brave new world
Nah nah nah nah nah
I hope I see you on the other side
Brave New World-Richard Ashcroft
http://www.last.fm/music/Richard+Ashcro ... ?autostart
Part 6
“What’s going on with you today?”
My leg is bouncing impatiently as I sit in Michael’s living room. I can’t help but check the clock every few seconds, anxiously anticipating when the clock will indicate it’s time to leave.
I barely hear Michael over the sound of the clock ticking, so it takes a few seconds before I absentmindedly reply, “What?”
“You. You’re freaking bouncing you’re leg like Bugs Bunny, what’s up?”
“What are you talking about?” I finally look away from the clock hanging on the wall long enough to glance over at him.
“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes at me then goes back to lighting the bong in hand. “You want some?” He asks as he points the bong in my direction.
“Nah, I’ve gotta be somewhere soon.” I can’t help but look at the clock again.
A moment passes with the only sound in the room of Michael inhaling deeply.
A minute later, there’s a cloud of smoke surrounding me and I frantically wave my hands in front of my face, trying to avoid inhaling the intoxicating air. I look over at Michael to see smoke seemingly coming out of every orifice in his face as he coughs and laughs at the same time.
“That’s it isn’t it?” I stare at him blankly as he continues to chuckle.
“What!?!” I say, highly annoyed. Now it’s my turn to be confused.
“Today’s your little date with Maxi-pad isn’t it?” I glare at him as he continues on, “I should’ve known.”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.” Although I shouldn’t have bothered. He continues to chuckle as if I hadn’t said anything at all. Trying to divert the attention away from myself I keep talking like he doesn’t faze me, “Yeah, you know, we’re meeting at the Crashdown. They’ll probably be busy today, so they’ll probably have all the waitresses on staff…I wonder if Maria will be working?”
Just as quickly as his laughter had begun it stops. He looks over at me suspiciously, all humor gone from his face.
I tap my chin with my finger as if in contemplation, a mischievous smile on my face, “You wouldn’t want me to pass on any messages from you would you? Maybe, I dunno, send any love notes or confessions of your undying love her way by chance?”
He crosses his arms and gives me his most intimidating look, daring me to say something to her.
Michael’s had a massive hard-on for Maria ever since she came to our school. To anyone else, it probably looks like he’s annoyed by her most of the time. But I’ve seen the way he looks at her, and if there’s one thing I’m sure of, it’s that Michael Guerin is practically in love with the girl.
“Don’t give me that look okay? You are such a pussy. Why don’t you just ask her out already?” I laugh as he just glares on.
He smirks knowingly, “That’s sounds like a good idea. Hey, I know! Maybe I’ll ask Maria at the same time you ask out the King-of-‘tards-Maxwell-fucking-Evans.”
The laughter dies on my lips.
“Maybe we can double date,” he continues, the harsh sarcasm dripping from every word.
And therein lies the problem. We’re both stuck in the same situations. Both in love with people who couldn’t possibly ever love us back.
I sober up quickly and move to change the subject again, pissed that he pulled one over on me, “Let’s just get back to why I’m here. Do you think you could put your big ass bong down long enough so we can get down to business?”
“I usually keep my big bong up if we’re getting down to business, if you know what I mean.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively at the same time that I roll my eyes at his blatant innuendo.
“You’re fucking ridiculous. Seriously, here’s a hundred bucks. That should be enough for tonight.” I throw the money on the dining room table and look at the clock once more. “It’s time for me to go. I’ll see you later.”
“You’re gonna meet me here later right?” He shouts as I’m almost out the door.
“When am I not here?” I sigh as I walk out the door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I should’ve taken the hit. It would’ve made things so much easier.
Impatiently, I struggle to pull the cigarettes and lighter out of my bag. As I bring my hands up to light the tip, I noticed belatedly that my hands are shaking wildly.
I take a long, deep drag in an effort to call myself.
Goddamn nerves.
I know! I’ll just text him the answers.
That seems logical, maybe a little risky, but a risk I’m willing to take. Especially when compared to the alternative.
The Crashdown’s filled with its usual Saturday afternoon activity. The porch filled with a group of football jocks in their letterman jackets. Each of the booths within the restaurant packed with kids from the local high school.
Standing a street away, I could faintly hear the sound of pop music being emitted from the patio speakers over the raucous laughter and conversation.
I stare.
Their happy faces enrapture me. Like a Norman Rockwell painting. A picture filled with the faces of kids, filled with jubilation and…innocence.
I’m left to wonder, are we from the same planet?
How is it that physically only a pavement divides us, and yet, there is not one thing on which we would have common ground? How could I ever relate to these…kids?
These thoughts stick like gum to my shoe, stopping my feet from taking any action in the direction of the Crashdown.
What the hell was I thinking? If I can’t even imagine what it would be like to have a normal conversation, how can I possibly have one? And with Max Evans nonetheless?
So I’m back to the same conclusion, I’ll just text him the answers to the test.
That way, Max will go back to being his perfect self, I’ll go back to being me.
But most importantly, there will be no human interaction.
With that in mind, Bio notes firmly in my left hand, cigarette lightly held in my right, I swivel around to leave when a loud voice rudely interrupts my getaway.
“Hey Liz! Liz, hey, Liz!” I wish I didn’t know that voice. Were it not so familiar I could easily walk away with no remorse.But unfortunately, I do know that voice, and like a ship to a sirens call, I know that this voice will lead to me to my ultimate demise. Yet I am powerless to stop it.
I turn around and sigh. I knew it was too easy.
Just as expected, the blonde bombshell that is Maria Deluca, is crossing the street away from the Crashdown and towards me.
“Hey Maria.” I stand as aloof as possible and take another drag of my cigarette. All her shouting attracted all sorts of attention and now the entire patio’s staring curiously at us.
Attention. Fucking perfect, that’s exactly what I wanted.
“Hey chica! Long time no see, its no bueno. How’ve you been?” I stare at her quizzically as she smiles merrily back. What the hell? Since when are we friends? The last time I talked to her, I distinctly remember telling her to fuck off so she could join the rest of the grinning masses.
“Uh, fine. How have you been?” I see her staring at the cigarette I keep bringing to my lips and wait expectantly for the ‘cigarettes are bad for you’ speech I’ve heard so many, many times before.
Color me shocked when instead of the usual speech she asks instead, “Hey can I bum a smoke?”
I nod mutely as I hand her a stick. This girl never ceases to amaze.
“Yeah, sorry, it’s just I ran out on my last break and that bitch Agnes won’t share.”
“I didn’t even know you smoked.”
“Well, we all gotta die sometime right?”
“Right. I guess I just figured you for the super health food nut type,” Realizing too late that may offend her I continue, “I mean, ‘cuz you look so healthy.”
“Me?” She laughs lightly, “Honey, I am definitely not healthy. And puh-lease, you should talk, you’re so skinny you have, like, the perfect body.”
I look down at my flat-chest and bony limbs. And even though I wholeheartedly disagree, I feel a blush bloom over my whole face at her admission. I’ve never had a girl compliment me before. Ever.
Not knowing how to take the compliment I just try to laugh it off, “That’s just because I’m an addict, I’d rather smoke than eat any day of the week.”
“Yeah, well whatever you’re doing, you are workin’ it honey.” She says as she waves her finger in the direction of my body. Trying not to blush again, I look down and swat my hand in the air as if tossing away the absurd comment.
She exhales the last puff, then crushes the last of the cigarette with the toe of her shoe. A companionable silence follows.
Realizing that’s she’s done and probably doesn’t have any more, I take out the pack in my purse and toss it at her, “Here take these, they should at least hold you over until you’re shifts over.”
She catches the pack easily and tries to hand them back, “I can’t take these, they’re yours. Its fine, I’ll just bum off someone else my next break.”
“Don’t worry about it, I’m trying to quit anyway. All those sneaky anti-smoking ads are getting to me.” I joke with a slight smile.
“Hey, don’t let the man bring you down.” She offers as a comeback.
I can’t help but laugh through my nose and nod amiably.
“Hey speaking of the man, you know Max is waiting in there for you.”
My head pops up as her comment throws me off guard, “What? Did he say that?”
“He came in about half an hour ago and asked if I’d seen you. I told him I’d let him know if I did.”
I look at the clock on my phone and regrettably realize that it’s 12:45 and I’ve been standing outside trying to mount the courage to walk in for the last hour.
Oblivious to my inner turmoil she rambles on, “Don’t tell him I told you that though. He specifically asked me not to.”
Each comment throws me a little off balance. I feel like more of a jerk every moment that passes.
I shrug it off. Stop thinking about it so much, I scold myself. He could be hanging out with some other friends. I hope they’re not still in there with him.
“Um, he wouldn’t happen to be alone would he?”
“Yeah actually, he was. Everytime somebody would come up to him, he just said he was waiting for someone.” She says with a shrug of her shoulders.
Okay, now that really doesn’t make any sense.
“C’mon, Prince Charming awaits.” She says with a mischievous smile and a wink.
I give her a puzzled look but before I can comment she’s grabbing my arm and hauling me across the street to the Crashdown.
With one last drag and a flick of my wrist the dwindling cigarette bud is cast aside. I can see the doors of the building in view and look towards the sky.
Heaven help me.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The Crashdown is filled with laughter and raucous. Every booth is cramped with kids it’s so full. A small ball of hysteria settles in the pit of my stomach, the faces of the kids all sweeping by in a tumultuous blur and I have the insane urge to walk back outside the door to get a breath of fresh air.
But Maria is still dragging me forward and before I know it the world stops turning and one face pops out at me as clear as a white rose in a vat of oil, a bright light amidst a world of shadows. His face.
And suddenly, we’re not the in the Crashdown and there’s no one around and its as quiet as the desert night because all there is, is golden brown eyes, staring straight at me.
The silence is shattered all too soon as someone loudly clears their voice beside me, “Well, I’ll just leave you two to study, and I’ll be back in a bit to take your orders.” Then with a wink, she’s gone just as quickly as she arrived with not a look back towards the havoc she’s wreaked, leaving no doubt as to why they call her Hurricane Deluca.
Aware that I’m still standing in the middle of walkway I gracelessly sit down in the booth across from him. I lay down my binder filled with notes and book on the table before looking up at him.
“Hey.” I begin.
“Hey.” Our eyes meet for a second before I look away in an effort not to get sucked in again.
Trying to look anywhere but at him I scoot over all the way toward the wall of the booth. I lean my head against the wall and prop my leg onto the seat, letting the other leg hang limply on the side. I nervously tap my fingers on the table as I scan the diner once more.
“So…” I begin, not knowing really where to start the conversation.
“So…” he mimics absentmindedly while staring at the tabletop before him, “How have you been?”
“Good, good, you know, same old, same old…you?”
“I’m good. Just being worn down by school and football and stuff.” We’re both nodding our heads like bobble-heads and avoiding each others eyes, trying to come up with something to pass this awkward moment that’s presented itself.
He scratches the back of his ear adorably and I have to contain the urge to say, ‘Awwww.’ I don’t think it would bode well for his manly pride or my reputation.
I feel like a pile of dirt beneath his beautiful gaze. I don’t even know where to begin apologizing for everything how late I am, for being a jerk, for being who I am.
“I’m sorry for being late…” I cringe at my words already hating the way they sound, yet unable to stop the words from flowing out of my mouth, “It’s just that on my way over here, I looked over at the park and saw this old lady obviously in distress-“
“In distress?” He raises his eyebrows at me.
I have no choice but to continue and nod my head emphatically, “Yeah, yeah… in distress. Um, you know, she was trying to tie her shoe but since she’s old she couldn’t even reach her shoelaces so, since I love old people and everything, I just had to pull over and help her out you know? Since it was so, so…sad.”
“Really?” He asks inquisitively. I bite my lip and look everywhere but his eyes. I can’t believe I just said that out loud.
“Yeah.” I nod.
“Really?” He asks, sounding more confused this time.
“Um…yeah.” I doubt that he believes it, but I have to stick to the story now.
“Oh.” He says matter-of-factly, “That’s weird, because I could of sworn I saw you standing across the street for the last hour, but that could’ve been my imagination.”
I finally look up to see an amused glint in his eye as he tries valiantly to hold back the playful grin from his face.
“Really?” I ask, hoping he will chalk it down to being his imagination.
“Yeah.” He says as if it were an unfortunate fact while nodding.
“Really?” I ask again with a slight grimace, knowing I’ve been caught.
“Um…yeah.” He echoes back my words from earlier.
Then, as if we were old friends we’re laughing and looking in each other’s eyes every so often to see the obvious mirth in each others’ eyes.
Just as it looks as though he’s going to say something else, Marias standing before us with a pad and pen ready to take our order.
“Welcome to the Crashdown home of the one and only Out-of-This-World-Burger may I take your order or do you still need a few minutes?” She recites with fake cheeriness.
This girl is really starting to grow on me.
I look up to realize that they’re both looking at me expectantly, so I just hand her the menu I haven’t even looked at and reply, “Just an MIB burger with fries, plain, and a cherry coke please.”
Max hands her his equally unopened menu and answers, “I’ll have the same, but mine with everything.” I’m sure everyone knows the menu by now. I mean, I’ve probably been here about 500 times in my life. I’ve just never been here with Max.
“Okay I’ll be back with your drinks in a jiffy.” How come I never noticed how sarcastic she is? Oh right, because I never let her talk to me before.
Once she’s gone, the awkward silence resumes. It’s almost comical that I’ve had Max as my lab partner all throughout high school and yet we can’t have a normal conversation outside of the classroom. Almost.
The reality of that statement hits me in the face like a cold bucket of water. It’s stupid that I’m even thinking about this, that I’m nervous over this. As much as I would like to pretend that this is a social event, it’s not. He’s here because he’s failing Bio, not to have idle chitchat with me.
“Let’s just get this over with.” The sooner we’re done, the sooner I can go back to my numb existence, because being around Max makes me forget that the world hurts. In the end, its just doing more harm than good. Once I leave this place, I’ll still have to go back out there without him and it’ll just make it that much harder.
“Um…okay.” I think he’s surprised by my change in demeanor because all of a sudden he’s scrambling around for the notes. “So, are you going to that party tonight?”
“Yeah, probably.”
Then as if I had asked, he rambles on, “Going to parties isn’t really my thing. I prefer spending quality time with someone, staying in, watching movies, that sort of thing.”
I cock my head to the side and look at him strangely. As if I didn’t already know all that. Max never goes to parties, save one freshman year. His favorite movie is The Godfather, his favorite color is green and his favorite ice cream is vanilla. Of course, he can’t know that I know that. I go back to looking through my notes.
“What chapter did you want to get started on?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After two hours of studying we’re barely through half the chapters we need to cover before the test. It started off pretty slow but once we got into the swing of things, the tension eased a bit and it was easier to get through the material.
The traffic at the Crashdown had eased tremendously since I first arrived. The loud, almost frantic roar from earlier had settled down to a low murmur. The waitresses were moving slower, the sunlight was growing dimmer and the air around us was getting colder by the minute.
I’ve never actually studied for this long before in my life and I could start feeling the fatigue settling in my bones.
I found myself pulling the same tactics I had all throughout high school while watching him, sneakily stealing glances whenever I could, admiring from what seemed like a great distance even though only a few inches away.
I tried my hardest to stay aloof and stick to the subject at hand, but every once in awhile he would interrupt, saying that we needed a break and try to make idle chat. At first uncomfortable, I found it was becoming easier and easier to talk to him, almost like playful banter.
“Ugh, God this stuff is so boring. How do you know all this stuff anyway? No offense, but I never see you studying, you never even pay attention in class and yet you always get perfect scores. How do you do that?” He seems genuinely curious about my answer, so although I might normally be offended, I find myself wanting to answer him honestly.
“I dunno, my parents were into it, so it made me into it, I guess.” I shrug my shoulders as if its nothing.
“Seriously? That’s your answer? It’s that easy, my parents liked it, that’s your answer. My Dad’s a lawyer, that doesn’t mean I already know all the law books like the back of my hand. You, seem to know this stuff, like you were born with it. Are you like a genius? Or is this an 'all of the above' situation?”
I can’t help but laugh at his assessment, “No I’m not a genius. Hmmm, how can I explain this? Here,” I grab the Bio book in front of us and go to the page number I memorized as a kid, then read aloud, “From her early work at Harvard University to her research as one of the most prominent plant biologists, Dr. Parker has traveled farther than any other female researcher in her field. Dr. Parker received the Nobel Prize for Science and a Career Recognition Award for her research in plant biology. Her discoveries astounded the science community when she discovered a way to integrate agricultural DNA with other plant DNA, virtually eliminating the need for the use of pesticides in the field. Her contribution to plant biology as well as the global community at large resonates throughout the world to this day.”
“Uh, lamens terms here Liz? I am getting tutoring on Bio for a reason,” he jokes lightly, a self-deprecating grin on his face.
“Right, sorry, forgot I was talking to a football player for a second. I’ll try to tone down the big words,” I joke back, making fun of the stereotype generally associated with athletes.
“Seriously, what were they talking about? They make it sound like you’re mom’s the Mick Jagger of science.”
“Yeah,” I continue to joke in order to maintain the light atmosphere surrounding us, “She’s the Godfather of Biology.”
He looks at me silently, expectantly, not accepting of my light attitude on the subject. Waiting for a piece of myself I’ve never given anyone. Information.
After a moment’s hesitation, of me biting my lip, a pensive action in nature, of Max staring at me patiently, I solemnly begin a tale of woe, from my lips to his ears, which had never been passed to anyone, “My Mom used to be this, like, head honcho in the science community. She was really smart and really dedicated…and really beautiful.”
Looking at my wringing hands, I take a deep breath to continue, “She started working for Metachem right after college. My Dad was the CEO at the time, and well, to put it lightly, he took an instant liking to my Mom. He gave her anything and everything she wanted, all the resources available to him. He really believed in her, you know?”
I don’t wait for a response, already lost in my own world, this fairytale impressed upon my in my formative years, “Well, she couldn’t ever disappoint my Dad. After a few years, bam, the discovery of a lifetime. She basically figured out how to mix this plant’s DNA that was deadly to insects but safe for humans with a tomato’s DNA. Voila! Pesticides became a thing of the past. It put Metachem on the Biotech map. So, anytime someone wanted to grow, lets say, potatoes without pesticides, they had to pay for my Mom’s secret ingredient so to speak.”
I rush out the rest, painful to say, painful to believe, even after all these years, “My Dad died a few years later, my Mom stopped working and I’m left with their legacy.”
I glance over to gauge his reaction but avoid looking into his eyes. I’ve never told anyone that story, it’s so near and dear to heart. Not even Michael knows my true history. Yet for some reason, talking to Max just seemed so natural after all these years of silently communicating with him in my head. Yet now that the words were spoken outloud, I don’t know what to expect. I don’t know what I hope to happen.
I can only truly expect shock, its not everyday the school reject informs you they’re the child of geniuses.
“So…that’s why you’re so into science?” He asks innocently.
“Yeah, when I was a kid, my parents read me Biology books as bedtime stories.” The statement would be hilarious; if it wasn’t for the truth behind it.
“Doesn’t that make you, like, a millionaire?” He asks, his eyebrows furrowed in thought.
“I don’t know. Maybe. My accountant just told me I basically wouldn’t have to worry about money. I just left it at that.” I shrug. His nonchalance is unnerving me and I find myself fidgeting. Never one to feel comfortable in my own skin, the feeling merely intensifies under his curious gaze.
“One more question…” He lets the question hang in mid-air. I hold my breath, for what, I’m unsure. At this point, my body’s so tense, my soul so bare, I feel that any question has the possibility of spinning my world even further under control.
Impatiently, I wait.
After what feels like an eternity he turns to me his serious gaze locked on mine and finally asks, “Is that why you don’t eat vegetables?”
The absurdity of the question catches me so off guard I actually let out a nervous chuckle, “That’s your final question? I lay out for you my family history and that’s your question?”
The next laugh comes out sounding more like a snort, which makes me laugh further.
Soon, he joins in and all the nervous tension unwinds as laughter fills the air.
“You’re completely ridiculous.” I say once I’ve stopped laughing.
“I’m ridiculous? I just asked you why you liked science and you told me your whole life story, I think you’ve got it a little backwards.”
I let out an jokingly offended shriek and throw a napkin at him from across the table. He grabs the napkin and shreds it in half so that he can throw two back at me. Before I know it, we’re in a full blown napkin war and we’re both laughing as paper shreds float all around us like snowflakes in the winter.
Amid all this chaos it occurs to me that I’m having the most fun I’ve had in years with the man of my dreams and we’re surrounded in a small bubble of our own making in the middle of the Crashdown.
When I look across the table at Max, our gazes lock and for the first time in my life, my soul is completely in tune with another human being. In this bubble that we’ve created we’re the only ones who exist. The most amazing part, is that I feel that he’s thinking the same thing.
“Max!!!
And just like that, our bubble has popped.
I’m caught so off guard that my whole body jerks. The ketchup bottle that was laying on the corner of the table goes flying and lands with a crash on floor, right in between someone’s shoes. Outraged shrieks follow.
“Oh my god!”
Mouth agape, my eyes travel a path from the broken glass ketchup bottle on the floor to the white designer shoes the mess has destroyed, up the short legs leading to the cheerleader outfit all the way to Tess Hardings’ perfect porcelain (yet equally shocked) face.
“I’m so sorry!” I immediately crouch down on my knees at her feet, picking up the broken shards of glass strewn across the floor.
Her cronies surrounding her are screaming expletives at me, the most pronounced voice of all, Isabel Evans herself.
“You stupid slut, do you know how much those shoes cost?” She shrieks, her voice coupled with the commotion attracting the attention of the whole Crashdown once again.
I look around, feeling claustrophobic with the glares of the girls bearing down on me like a physical weight. I look up at Isabel’s face, her face like a gargoyles’ a menacing look set in stone. I feel a burgeoning hysteria manifesting itself, needing to escape into what will most likely be an explosive slew of words when a soft voice stops my vicious retort.
“Isabel, it was just an accident, calm down,” My hands still in their movements as I gaze straight into the face before me, soft blue orbs peering into mine. Seeing that Isabel has held her tongue, she smiles lightly at me then goes back to the task at hand, helping me clean the glass on the floor.
“Yeah Isabel, calm the fuck down,” And suddenly there’s another pair of hands, Maria’s, helping me clean the mess with a dustpan.
I look back to Tess, at her shoes covered in blood, at my hands covered in blood…I shake my head.
Ketchup, I meant ketchup.
My hands are shaking now and I can still feel the weight of condescending stares, of the blood-red ketchup staining everything, of the hot air squeezing the air out of my lungs and I feel bile rise in my throat.
I get up, desperately needing to feel cool air on my face.
“I have to go.” I announce suddenly.
I roughly grab my backpack from the bench of booth, frantic in my movements. I avoid looking at Max, afraid of the reproachful look I expect after having made a mess of everything.
“I’m sorry I ruined your shoes, I’m sorry. I’ll pay you back for them,” I say sincerely, to which I hear Isabel mumble ‘yeah right’ under her breath. I glare at her then turn to leave again when a hand gently grasps mine.
Max looks surprised, almost pleading when he says, “You don’t have to go, it’s no big deal.”
I look at our hands, mine clasped lightly in his, then back at Tess, who’s looking at us now, slowly rising from her crouched position on the floor.
I pull my hand roughly from his warm touch, painful as it is, and say quietly, “Yes, I do.”
Walking out of the Crashdown, I immediately feel the cold air whipping around my face.
But the fresh air isn’t the reprieve I thought it would be, outside of Max’s presence I can feel a cold, hard emptiness that wasn’t there before.
Wrapping my arms around my stomach as if to fill the void within I walk back towards Michaels house.
Nothing a little tequila won’t fix.