CHAPTER VIII: STARTING LINE

If what everyone's thinking right now at this moment were spoken aloud, our world would become a gigantic megaphone. I am certain that mine alone would most likely overpower a whole town. After I had talked to her, the girl I've met more than two times yet is still a walking mystery to me, I had walked home normally. But the walk home was only the normal part, and I was a vessel with an unusually light heart and a flooding of thoughts for a brain. I couldn't even remember what my parents were reprimanding me again, though a part of me predicts that it's the future college talk again.

There should be no problem at all.

Except that there was.

See, my mind is no stranger to the concept of overthinking. It was second nature to me, increasing tenfold whenever there's a big test coming up. It wasn't really the best moments of my life, my dark eyebags and a horrid pimple at the center of my forehead were to give it away. Distractions in the form of random videos in the middle of the night were a huge help. Staring at the ceiling were the next best thing, when random videos weren't enough to satisfy. School and academics were the main culprit, and they're the type of culprit who would get away with everything.

This, much to my surprise, was different.

Unlike the normal insomnia driven nights, I slept without any kind of distraction for my brain to run itself tired. And it was strange, as the last topic I had partaken in was enough, more than enough to keep me up for two weeks maximum. I even walked to school earlier today, a rare sight, as my average time in going to school ranges from being fashionably late (a minute before homeroom) to really late (a minute after homeroom). The only phases I had that I walked to school earlier was the first day of school, which only happens annually.

"Someone's a little earlier today." Caleb, of course, was the first to notice. "Who was the lucky one?"

"Why, yes. It was only now that me and my lover decided to get together after years of talking about it."

"Are you serious, or are you messing with me?"

I purse my lips, "Do you want to know the name or not?"

He grinned. "By all means, do tell."

"The name is Das. She's the same age as we are."

"Woah, that's a pretty unique name. Does she also study here?" He whirled his head at the left, then at the right for good measure, trying to find a glimpse of her. "But, wow, when did it start? I mean this is cool, I'm—"

"She Das not exist."

—once again your victim in your pathetic attempt of pranking me by using one of the blandest and most eye-roll worthy joke in the world." I guffawed at his expression, and in response he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I really thought that you had a special someone now. I thought we were going to have double dates!"

This time, I was the one who was done with his very specific fantasy. "Who are you… my personal Cupid?"

"For the record, even if it's just your friend I would be just as happy." Caleb sighed, though it held no real heat. "I've told you a lot of times to try and reach out. We're graduating high school Malcolm. You should try and broaden your horizons. Talk to others. Make small talk and go from there."

This trait of Caleb is one that I am grateful for, but one that I loathe at the same time. Was there really anything wrong with what I have right now? Though there may be times where I wanted to bash my head into a wall because of shame and embarrassment, I can still smile and laugh from time to time. I wanted to scream all these emotions and words in front of his stupid, calculating, face. I wanted to tell him to stop trying to transform me into some social-butterfly-popular-jock when I'm clearly not made for that. He was, not me.

I am simply Malcolm Alexander Hendrix, living a rather ordinary and secluded life.

I am simply Malcolm Alexander Hendrix, nothing else.

Amidst the lively chatter among the students, a heavy silence surrounded us two. With my friend of seven years worriedly staring at me, while I try to suppress my annoyance through clenched fists. He seemed to notice that my stubbornness will not go away, so he huffed and walked away in silence. I watched him as he walked out from the door, most likely in the arms of his girlfriend, Allison.

I rest my palm over my cheek. My eyes glazed over the bright, burning sunlight over the vividly green grass. If I were a photographer or a player, I would have felt a strong surge of want and jealousy. It was what you would see on a stock high-definition picture you would find on the web. But I was none of the two, so I only thought of it as a patch of grass and a monstrously bright flashlight shining on it.

This is how its supposed to be.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

"I thought that my answer was clear." I grit my teeth, "Do I have to repeat 'no' a million times for you to stop bothering me?"

"Nah, that's not your real answer, cute boy." She crossed her arms, confident. Confident enough to spark jolts of irritation down my spine. "If it really was your real answer, I would've left you alone. But it isn't, so don't act shocked when you already know that I'll still continue to ask you to help me."

I ignored her.

She plops down the seat beside me, like it was a student sitting over their usual spot in the library. "Something is stopping you, and until you tell me what it is, I'm not going anywhere."

When I plainly ignored her, tuning out her voice, she tilts her head forward. I turn my head slightly to make her face disappear from my vision, but she tilts her head a little further.

Up until to the point where I think my neck would break if I tried to force it more, I gave up and tapped her shoulder. She understood the small signal and leaned back, facing me properly once again. With a defeated huff of breath, I crossed my arms. "Why do you want my help?"

"So that this bridge wouldn't get destroyed." She stated, as if it were the easiest achievement one could have.

I was about to return that with a sharp 'no', but she spoke again, this time her voice growing distant. In the same familiar tone, she once said to me, on the day we first sat together on this bridge.

"Also, I think you need to live more. You look lonely, cute boy."

I expected my already bottled-up frustration from the earlier silent fight I had with Caleb to explode, and say things ranging from what I meant and what I overwhelmingly meant. Instead, I had a struck of a strange emotion. It wasn't intense, but it was there, simmering in the center of stomach up to my lungs.

Determination.

With a tight-lipped smile, I replied.

"Alright, I'll do it."