5.7.15

576 Hours [Part 3]

Ross is not someone who can just give a ride to a girl. He is, umm, kinda dense. But then, he wears up his blue jeans jacket and signal me to get on. It will look weird for both of us riding on the same motor. This takes me back.
One time he caught me walking on my way home.  

“Where is your dad?”      
“I am walking alone. Do you see any companions besides?” said myself as I showed him the ‘wanted to get a ride’ face.      
“Well, careful,”    

He then drove away his motor with that ‘incredibly not interested to drive me home’ emotion. He left me alone across the street. There, I was alone and yet the breezes kept accompanying my lonely soul who had been --might to be said-- rejected by him. I did not know what went through his head. It might be some kind of krypton like the one Superman had.

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          We are heading to the stadium once Phoebe had told before. I cannot do anything about him driving with maximum 20 kmph. It is sure going to take us there in three hours, at least. That one kilometer distance supposes to be reached within ten minutes less or more.
          I get down as he had driven me by. I say thanks and he leaves as soon as he can. Predictable.
Everyone is chattering at my late arrival, again.
         
          “Why did you take so long?”
          “Hng.. I smell barbeque, who is this?” I try to calm them and apparently it is not working on lunch steak anymore.
          “Well, that is going to be our burning flesh,”
          “Hngg...,”

          After a couple fight, we finally start to rehearse. As the time goes by, shooting the ball is not that hard at all. You just have to analyze the distance and the power you need to put then, go. But, if someone offer me which I have to choose between English and Basket ball, I prefer English, please.
          In the middle of the rehearsal, I jokingly ask Ross to pick me up at five. Well, I do not really expect it to become true. That is the least I could have done since I did not bring my motor with me. Who knows? Something you do not expect so much can be something that will really come true. If you never wish for it, somehow it will become real. And spongebob must have said something true about it.

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          Rehearsal is over. Taking rest will be our first choice of the evening. Today is a bit windy. Thank God, my jacket help me through it. Three minutes later, Ross shows up. I am pretty much astonished. Everyone does, apparently.
          He comes up then takes the basket ball with him. He runs. He dribbles. He shoots. A perfect three point shoot. I can only stare from distance.
          This noon is a bit dark. Clouds everywhere. Windy. He then chimes in.
                  
          “It is going to rain. Should not you go home?”
          “Just a sec,”
         
          I look at him and whisper from far,
         
          “Will you wait for me?” he sure does not say any words. He walks and sits. Makes me come up with a conclusion that he will. Sometimes you do not have to be psychic to know one better.  You just need to have some agreement. An agreement with one is willing to let you in one's house.
         
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          Time to home. I get up and clean my trouser from dirt. Tight up my jacket and put the basket ball back into the bag. I still cannot believe that Ross willingly drives me home.
          He still drives with that unbelievable speed. Now I feel like a loser and embarrassing myself in front of the line of snails. But, a beggar cannot be picky, right? For the record, I am not a beggar. He is just too kind that I can actually feel some regrets in his aura.
         
          “Please drive me slowly,” and now we know someone to be blamed for shaming herself on her own.
          “Why did not you tell me about you moving?”
          “Why would I?” Said he.
          “Oh look! I just put your name under my blocked neighbour list.”
          “My pleasure,”
          “Let me walk then,”
          “Oh, do not be too sentiment, that is so years ago.”
         
          Being silent can be helpful for now on. We passed the Kota Bakery which  mom always tells me that their breads are not as good as Rex Square’s. Well, she is right then. The only one that makes that place looking great is the ice blending with various flavours. And that is not even categorized as a standart bread.

          “We finally see your quality,”
          “What? You want to start a war before I get you home?”
          “Just think what you want to think. Speaking of quality, we should celebrate you, having a great mark for today’s English test,”
          “You okay with that?”
          “What do you mean? This is not an end, kiddo. I am not going to lose to an amateur. It is not like I am going to be torn apart after beaten once. I am way more stronger than other people think. And in fact, having the same mark does not make me a loser or something. You are still young, you do not want to bear a grudge.”
          “Think what you want to think,”
          “Apology accepted,”
          “No one says sorry,”
          “I know. That is why people talk to themselves, kid.”
          “Woman,” complain he.
          “Always right.” Complete me.

          Unexpectedly he lifts his hands up and thanks the God.
         
          “What are thinking you’re doing?” I yell and hit him hard with the basket ball in my hand.
          “I am celebrating. I just did your advice.”
          “You almost killed us!!”
         
          He turns his head around to check me in the eye. He literally smiles and says,

          “Relax, you are safe now.”
          “I am going to be late, quick. No, safety first. Thank you for driving me home. Hey, why do not we take a short visit? I am just going to make sure you are living in a new, comfortable, and lovely place.”
          “Please do not.”
          “Okay.” I keep my mouth shut. It is fine though whether he does not want to show it. He did not even tell me about it beforehand. Well, I am pretty used to it, this kind of rejection.

          Ross needs a brain check up. He just passed my alley when he had already visited my house for once not too long ago. Or maybe I am just too harsh to treat people who takes a pity on me.

          “Sorry. I forget which one is your house,”
          “You kidding me.”
          “Help then,”
          “Look. Cocounut trees,”
          “You should make a pool yard.”
          “They will not listen,”
          “Haha,”
          “Not quite funny, though.”
          “Are you sure your Dad is going to be okay with this? Me driving you home.”
          “I should have got off by the alley. And you kept going straight.” About five meters from home, he lets me to get off.     
“Get off. I am scared your Dad will make an unexpected show up.”

I say thank you and he leaves as soon as he can. He is so predictable. Nothing is compete.
          I enter the house with such a complicated feelings. It is as if there is an unseen war inside me. The heart says that I just got a special treatment. The brain thinks logically which means that was just one of peer to peer concern. So in that situation it is usually called by normal-people-would-do-to-their-friends-without-thinking-in-the-other-way thing. It just occurs sometimes when you get hanging out with the line of people. The give and take sometimes can be so much confusing. But I am sure none to be blamed. Feelings are feelings. They are not actions. They cause action.

          “Pernicious,” I say.
         
          I go to my room and lock the door. Changing my clothes to something comfortable and not edible then cleaning up a bit before I get out.
          Looking at stars in the night has been my favourite moment of the year. It is great when you look at them up there shining very bright and you might not know it whether they had died or not, yet. You will just figure it out when you find one star is not shining in the next night or it has replaced with the other one with more lights around. Not knowing the truth perhaps can be your last self-defense.

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          23rd December 1990

          A text has arrived seconds ago. I roll myself just so I can reach my cell phone. New message, it says.        
         
          “You are wrong. We, as a human being, need to socialize. We cannot live by ourselve even though we ask for it. One cannot just swipe people out from their life easily. They have place. They must have taken a place.”

          I have spent my day not to well. And now, receiving this kind of text, I am just going to explode myself and sleep with pieces of it.

          “If ‘socialize’ is referred by helping out each other in ‘certain’ situation like today, I will prefer to choose isolating myself from a creature named human.” He disappointed me. He cheated on test today.
          “Your individualism has crossed the line.”
          “This is myself. I live by my rule. I know myself better. Then, why would I be friends with someone who cannot give me some benefits?”
          “So, you think what I did today was despicable and not bringing any advantageous?”
          “Precisely.”
          “We helped each other. Everyone was happy and we got good score.”
          “Petty-minded.”
          “I am not. Stop calling me that!”
          “It is just, you are so patronizing to me. Cut it off, you just make yourself look stupid.”
          “Human interaction is a need. Sooner or later, you will realize it. You are just going to sit there and feel sorry for yourself. You will regret what you have thrown away.”
          “You are wrong. I will not be able to regret things that I do not even have in the very first place, Ross. Good night.”
          “Sooner or later. Night.”

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          11th May 1991

          The sun is brightly shining. Today, I am feeling so great. A brand new chapter has already begun. People might think that I just won lottery. And these bunch of creepy thoughts are totally wrong deductions. Like a crystal clear river, you must have thought it is not that dangerous for a small swim because it does not look that deep. Then your first deduction gets someone drowning.
          He is drawing. I am writing. We are completely fine. On the top of that, I sit next to him. People will be portraying us as a good brother-sister relationship.

          “What is this?”
          “Supposed to be fences. Shut up.”
          “Wow. Calm, dude. You know, he does not like it when his students draw bizarre things. You know it will upset him.” I try not to sound mocking him in the face. But, he does not really keen with perspective things.
          “I know. Thanks for your concern.”
          “No one gives concern.”
          “I know. That’s why people talk to themselves.” Said he.
          “Thanks. But, I am not in the mood to laugh.” Repel me.
          “No one even tries,”
          “Your mind. It is placid, staright-forward, and barely used.” I do not expect myself to harm him by my words. And I hope he does not offended. But, somehow in so many ways, it just slips out of my tongue.
          “Oh. Nice try, hotshot!”
         
          The atmosphere does not pretty much let us to speak up for more. I am back with my writing. Though do in fact, writing is not really what I have been doing. It becomes diversion of mine in order to less the awkwardness and to loose the intense status which I might not want to have in the future.
          Sun goes down. Sky is now filled by the stars and its friends, anything sparks a light. Night scenery is indeed beautiful. No one will choose to start a war when they actually understand how dazzling tonight is. However, there must be stupid person. And that would be me.

          “We are friends. Tell that to everyone who goes around the sun.”
          “We are friends.”  Copy he.
          “I am not interested in you.” I stop for a while and start to complain even further.
“People get very stupid day by day. I do not think I can handle this kind of abusement any longer.”
          “Dear God, I am sorry. It must upset you. I try to convince them then, promise you.” Said he when he does not even sound very promising, though.
         
          When you do not speak about the truth, pain is the one which gives the answer instead. Maybe I should not have said anything. I should not have complained. I am sentiment. And Sherlock was right, sentiment is chemical defect found on the losing side. Surprisingly enough, my first deduction drowns myself. Pain is what I have for now. We are now far away apart. I can actually see the distance.
Our relationship ends here. So, what? Who do I blame?


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