Truth Water: Chapter 1 (re-edited)

Chapter 1

Just the peculiar fragrance that emulated from his sweet, ivory skin as he passed by lifted my blue soul. I sneaked a peak at him through the corner of my eye as he ever so gracefully walked by me. It wasn’t so much as a walk to me than it was a dance. But anyways, my eyes retreated when I saw he was side glancing me, too.

Was it my hair; I thought, do I have a booger hanging from my nose?

I swung my shoulder bag in front of my small torso. I unzipped it and rummaged passed my school books until I came across what I was looking for: my compact mirror. I zipped my bag closed and released my elbow, just to leave my bag dangling at my right side. With a flick of my wrist, my mirror snapped open. I examined my face in it.

Not a flaw.

My silky black hair lie perfectly on my shoulders, angled enough to capture a shine. My make up was intact; no smudges of eyeliner, none of my true skin color was revealed behind my bronzer, and no pimple sprouted anywhere unexpectedly.

Maybe it’s just me.

So far, it’s almost the middle of the school year, and no one has said a word to me. Much less have they complimented me on anything before? No. I wish I had at least one friend. That way I could ask them to rate me1-10 on an outfit. Or if I had something in my eye. Or if I had a pimple on my face. I could probably list a thousand- possibly a million- things I would ask a friend if I had one. So far, I have been relying on my mirror for support. And I can tell you one thing:

It’s not working anymore.

You have heard of the saying out with the old, in with the new before, right? Good, ‘cause that explains exactly how I feel -about my glittery compact mirror that I got for my birthday last year- right now. My parents won’t even let me join a group so that I can make friends. I keep praying that they would some time, but no one seems to hear my plea.

I dropped my mirror back into my bag and walked into my second period classroom right as the late bell rang. Everyone looked up at me with questioning eyes, like if I was a ghost or something. This happens everyday. Also, the teacher never asks me for a pass. Not even if the class is half over (and trust me, I’ve tried it. No phone call home, no referral, nothing.) But I decide not to skip class anyways; my teachers are going to say something sooner or later, right?

It felt as if everyone in the whole entire universe was watching me undress, because they were all staring at me with their unusual beady-black eyes. I got to my assigned seat (which is in the back of the room, thank God) and slumped down as far as I could go without falling on the ground.

When the teacher instructed us to pass forward our homework assignments, I sat up and retrieved my yellow math folder from my back pack. In order for me to do my homework assignments in the first pace, I had to sneak all my textbooks home, because none of my teachers intentionally assigned me any in the beginning of the year. I tapped the kid sitting at the desk in front of me and shoved the paper by his face, which crinkled loudly, so he would know to get it, but as usual, he tensed up and ignored me. So instead, I let go of it and watched it flutter to a halt on top of his desk.

After Lane (the kid sitting in front of me) passed up his work, he bent over and put his folder away. Since my paper was still on his desk, it floated to the floor when he knocked it off his desk after he sat up. Lane raised his hand and asked permission for the restroom. When he was leaving, Lane stepped on my paper, leaving behind a dirty foot print on it.

Typical.

I bent over to pick it up, but in that attempt, I tumbled to the floor. A few of my peers twisted in their seats to see what happened. No one snickered or sneered. No laughter erupted. Just turned heads. That’s all. But the funny thing is that they acted as if they couldn’t find the source of distraction, so they turned back around. Sometimes I wished that they would laugh at me.

But that’s not even the worst of it.

On the bus, it is pure torture. No one will scoot over for me. Every time I ask to sit with someone, they pretend I’m not there and invite their “buddy” to sit with them. I stopped trying to sit with someone and always sat in the back behind the tape, otherwise known as the “Restricted Area”. The bus driver doesn’t care, because he looks right at me and doesn’t say a word. When people turn around to tell me I can’t sit back there, they see me, close their mouths and turn back around.

Sometimes I’ll get lucky and find a seat up front and catch people talking about me. I’ll know they are, because they flit their eyes towards my seat every once in a while. But what I don’t get is that when they’re done, they’ll have a hint of jealousy locked in their eyes. Since I got tired of people ignoring me on the bus, I asked my parents to let me walk home. Thank God they said yes, or I would have exploded! One time I asked if they could home school me, but they said no. I was sad at first, and then I remembered that I would miss my crush, Josh Vernone.

When I first started walking home, I walked on the sidewalk next to the road, but that distracted drivers way too much. They would all stare at me like I was really out there or something. The people would be looking at me for too long and forget they were driving. Then they would crash into the car in front of them. But ironically, they would always tell the police that they saw an unusual animal walking on the sidewalk. I mean, I would imagine, it would be kind of perverted if some man or woman said that they were staring at a high school girl walking home from school. But the story would always be the same:

A weird animal on the sidewalk.

Since my mom got worried sick about me, my parents decided to have me walk home in the woods that led straight to our house. At first, I was a bit wary of that idea because I was always afraid of the woods. I was always asking myself what is back there and what would attack me or what not. But that ended when I noticed that Josh took that route, too. I would pretend to be slacking on walking until he got in front of me; then I would start walking faster, as if to catch up with him and magically start a conversation with him. I wish that it was that easy to do. Unfortunately its not.

I mean, it wasn’t; at least, not until now.

I looked up and watched Josh Vernone walking his beautiful dance-walk, as if I was enjoying a man dancing in ballet on television. Or even better explanation: in a front row seat with him in black tights and a tight fitting u-neck t-shirt that molded perfectly to his possible 6 pack abs. He stopped, but I didn’t notice until I became face-to-neck with him in less than 10 seconds. I contemplated on why he stopped, and whether or not to ask why. I was a bit scared, to be honest. Questions raced through my mind. Will he be mean or nice? Brave or scared? Disgusted or caught in a trance? I NEED TO KNOW!!!

Since I wanted so desperately to know the answers, I went ahead and finally asked, which required a lot of my courage.

“W-what’s wrong?” I stuttered in a low whisper, realizing he didn’t hear me.

He turned around and faced me, his soft, chocolate eyes searching my body, as if I was something weird.

“Hmm?” Josh asked, his voice sweet like honey. And he seemed a bit surprised that I was talking to him.

I cleared my voice and repeated myself, except louder this time, “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been thinking; we shouldn’t be here. This is not the right place.” His eyes turned harsh and serious-like, reminding me of cold metal, so I backed up a few paces. I heard him start laughing a bit, and his eyes turned back to normal again, “So… Can I walk you home?”

After all of the years of my peers ignoring me, talking about me, and purposely stepping on my papers, I honestly would not expect my life long crush to be the first to talk to or respond to me. But I’m quite happy that he was. I thought about this for a few long seconds, before snapping back to life.

I accepted this much wanted invitation, “Sure.”

“Ok, then, lets get going.” Josh said.

“But first,” I said a little too confident for my taste, not even walking yet. He stopped and turned around again. I couldn’t believe I said that.

“Yes?” He seemed a little impatient.

“I have a question to ask you.”

“And what would that be?” He asked, crossing his arms. I went ahead and said it really fast so I could get it over with.

“Actually, two things,” I made that my final decision, “First of all, why did you automatically decide to respond to me, where as everyone else ignores me?”

“Well, I don’t know. Maybe it’s because you talk to low. Or because you’re really pretty.” He suggested.

“They would have asked me ‘what’ like you did, or to speak up. And wouldn’t I have a boyfriend by now?” I rested my hands on my hips.

“Well, I was always too intimidated to talk with you, so that’s why I have never spoken to you before,” Josh started blushing a little, so I did too, “So, what’s your other question?”

“Uh… Oh yeah; what did you mean by “Oh, we shouldn’t be here”?”

“Oh, um… You know, it’s getting kind of dark, and I wanted you to get home safely. I wouldn’t let myself sleep, thinking that someone who went to my school who walked behind me, thinking that I didn’t know that they purposely walked slower to let me get in front of them,” He smiled, and I could feel my face turn a bright red, “Is probably in danger.”

I looked around, and noticed that it was a bit darker that usual.

“Well if you put it that way…” I said, jogging over to his right side, feeling really bubbly inside.

“Did you say that you liked me?” I said out of the blue. I quickly bit my lip and did a mental head slap, as if that was a big enough punishment for that outrageous outburst.

“What?” He looked down at me, “Oh, no. I said I thought you were, you know, pretty, but I never said that I liked you.”

“Oh. Well, do you?” I asked, hopeful. I’m pretty sure that was the equivalent to writing “I’m desperate for other people’s attention that isn’t my mom” all over my face.

“Uh…”

BANG!

Thunder boomed loudly in the sky, making us jump and me scream. Soon after, rain came pouring out of the sky and pelted me on my head, as if it was trying to push me underground. I pulled my black cotton jacket out of my backpack and attempted to use it as a cover for my head. As soon as I did, I felt more water dripping on me, because my jacket became over soaked and couldn’t hold anymore water. I moaned and all of a sudden stopped feeling water on my head. I looked up and saw an umbrella shading me from the sky. I looked over to Josh, and he gave me a toothy smile. Straight, white teeth. 7 times hotter than what shows.

“Thanks,” I heard myself say.

“No problem,” He replied, “By the way, you’re Alicia, right?”

“Yes, and you’re Josh, right?”

“How’d you know my name?”

“How’d you know mine?” I shot back.

“Touché.”

We continued having a really good conversation until we walked up the driveway to my house. It was like a big mud slide; wet dirt sliding down it, making it harder to walk. When we reached the shelter under the roof that covered the garage door, I slid down it until my butt met the ground. Josh did the same. I looked at him, and he looked at me.

It was quite cold.

“Ugh, it’s cold.” I complained.

“I know,” Josh agreed, looking down. I sensed something was wrong.

“What’s wrong?” I finally asked after a few minutes.

“Actually, it’s not the factor of wrong; it’s right.”

“Huh?” I asked, confused.

“Well, even though I just met you, I feel a certain connection towards you. Like, I knew you before, but it’s kind of different.”

“How do you feel a connection? What type?” My heart leaped when I said “what type”.

“I feel that you are my friend. My best friend.” He looked at me, and frowned, “Well, I guess it’s kind of cheesy.”

“No, it’s not, actually. I, um, kind of feel that way, too.” After he mentioned it, I realized that I did feel that way. In fact, it felt as if I’ve know him for a million years now.

He smiled, and so did I. I looked away and saw lightning hit the ground.

“Well, thank you for walking me home.” I quickly said.

“Your welcome.”

I sighed, and then I heard a really loud thunder boom. I yelped. Josh laughed.

“Well, I’m going to head inside now,” I said to him while I got up.

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Ok, be safe.” I said to him, as he jogged down the driveway. When he was at the end of it, he turned around and sent me a little wave. I waved back. I watched him walk down the road until he disappeared into the darkened woods. I walked inside all wet. I crawled upstairs, jumped in and out of the steam shower, and walked into my big, clean room. When I got to my bed, I collapsed on it and fell into a deep, comforting sleep.

**************************

I woke up at 3:00 in the morning with a dry tongue and a full bladder, so I threw my silk covers onto my clean cherry wood floors and slipped on my fuzzy purple slippers. I pulled my spa-style robe off of its hook, slipped my arms in the arm holes, and tied the tying thingy around my small waist. After that, I patted across the room and out the door. Once I got to the staircase, I sat my butt on the top step and scooted down the carpeted stairs. When I got to the bottom, I gripped the wooden railing and struggled to stand up.

After I managed to pull myself up, I wearily dragged my feet across the tiled flooring until I reached the bathroom. When I touched the metal doorknob, my hand retreated because it shocked me. I cursed under my breath, and entered. After the restroom, I trudged into the kitchen as if I was walking through 5 feet of mud to get there. That’s how tired I was at the time. In the kitchen, I retrieved a cup from the cupboard and poured myself a glass of water. I drank it down, poured some more, and went back upstairs.

Once in my room, I hung up my robe and buried myself under my blankets. I pulled the string to my lamp so it would turn on. After it cast a long shadow across my room, I contemplated about Josh and my day. But mostly about Josh. I asked myself some questions and came up with some answers for them.

Questions:

Why did he automatically decide to respond to me? What’s going on? And what did he really mean about “We shouldn’t be here”?

A million more questions raced through my mind along with those, while I sipped on my refreshing water.

Answer Number One:

I’ve never tried to talk to him, so how would I know if he didn’t notice me before? Plus, I caught him looking at me earlier yesterday. No one else dare lay an eye on me, so that’s a good thing at least he notices me.

Answer Number Two:

Maybe he decided it really was too dark for me to walk home alone. I definitely didn’t want to be walking home alone in the dark woods. But funny thing is that it was still light enough for me to get home safely. On the other hand, it was a bit darker than usual. I don’t know how, though. Maybe because he stopped? But it was still light. Wow, I am really confusing myself. But something is going on, and I need to find out what it is.

After a while, I got tired again, so I turned off my bedside table lamp and pulled the blankets over my head. I fell in a deep sleep again, to the thoughts of the ever so wonderful Josh Vernone. I also ended up dreaming about him. It wasn’t a bad dream, but it wasn’t necessarily a good one either. It was so vague that I could barely describe it, but all I can say is this:

I’m really not where I should be.