In Memory (15 page)

The next morning, he seemed fine, kind of happy even.

And, much to my delight, his pajama shirt was undone several buttons, allowing me a good look at his thin chest. He seemed eager to have breakfast this morning, which seemed a bit odd to me as well, as usually he doesn’t seem to have much of an appetite. Well, yeah, he ate and all, but he didn’t really seem enthusiastic about it.

All we had for breakfast this morning was cereal, due to the general lack of food in the house.

So I suggested we go the store to get food.

“I don’t think you would want to be seen in public with me.” He said calmly, drinking his water. He always drinks water.

“Hm? Why not?”

“You are aware of my status as an unlucky person, right? Other people have the tendency to avoid me, and often look down upon anyone who associates with me.”

“Eh, I don’t care what anyone else thinks. It’ll be fun, and then I can buy things that you especially like!”

“If you don’t mind… I suppose it could be educational.”

“Huh?”

“I have never been to a grocery store before. I think I’ll find the experience educational.”

I blinked, thinking of all the times I’d gone to the grocery store. “You’ve
never
been in a grocery store? Not even when you were little?”

“Well, I would assume I had been before my mother died, but I have no memory of it. It would have been when I was very young.”

“Oh… your mother… she’s gone too?”

“Yes. My father beat her to death and buried her in the garden.”

I blinked,
then
stared at him as he calmly took a drink of water.

M
outhed a few vowel sounds, utterly dumbstruck by this.

“Please do not inform my sister of this, she doesn’t know anything about it. I do not wish for her to realise the same horrible reality of it.”

“B-but… that’s proof, isn’t it?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“If your mother… is buried in your garden, couldn’t you call the police and
show
them?”

“It has already been dismissed as a fanciful story made up by a stupid child as a way of creating a reason for his mother’s unexpected departure.”

“You’re- you’re not stupid.” I stuttered dumbly.
I
felt stupid at that point, looking into his dulled eyes.

All he did was stare back at me, a desolate hope
lessness emanating from him. R
ealised then, all my suggestions and solutions, they’ve been crushed in the past. That’s why he always looks at me like that; he’s just waiting to deny me.

C
losed my eyes to
stop seeing that expression. W
anted to hold his gaze, to be strong and defiant and positive.

That expression though, there was nothing meaningful I could say to make it go away. So I opted for something kind of meaningless, as some kind of clever subject change.

“So… your favourite dessert, I still don’t know what it is.”

He seemed to react we
ll to the subject change. M
ade a note to do this more in the future.

“I am not sure what is my favourite. I don’t think I have experienced enough desserts to properly determine my favourite.” He grinned at me
slyly,
I could sense his sneaky suggestiveness.

“I suppose I’ll have to make you some more types of dessert so we can see what your favourite is, yeah?”

He smiled.

So now I’m shopping for groceries with Noah. A seemingly mundane task made much more enjoyable simply because of the company I have.

He’s quiet, as a rule, and doesn’t offer up much of an opinion throughout the aisles.

W
as not deterred, however, and strolled up the baking aisle with a basket on my arm and him following behind me like a little chick.

P
icked up some basic supplies, baking powder, etc., when I noticed his gaze was focused on a
pie crust
. Seeing this, I took full advantage.

“You like pie, Noah?”

He jumped slightly at my sudden question,
then
smiled. “Yes, pumpkin is my favourite type, I believe.”

F
elt a blush rise in my
face,
I turned away, grinning widely. He was just so cute~

I sound like some
lovestruck
preteen girl.
Urck
.

When we got home, he stayed long enough to tell me he had to go home before six. Apparently, he had some sort of family function to attend, and had to go get ready for it.

E
nvisioned him with his family, sort of alone, and I couldn’t seem to put a face on any of the other members. Whenever I tried to form some kind of appearance for his aunt or something, I kept drawing a blank.

This is kind of unusual for me
,
usually I can imagine anything
. The fact that I can’t even imagine what a family would look like for him makes me feel really sad.

So I just pictured him with
me and Terra,
and his sister May. We could be a family.

I feel really down now.

-Well I feel slightly better now that I discovered we have ice cream.
Haha
.

124 Days, 26 October, Sunday

W
onder how his family gathering went…

I’ve also noticed I should be working on my list.

1.
               
Make Noah smile for real.
Ha! When I was giving him that massage!

2.
               
Begin a collection of something.

3.
               
Make snow angels on New Years Eve.

4.
               
Sew a
marvellous
dress for Terra for Christmas.

5.
               
Dance in the rain.

6.
               
Paint a picture. (
flowers
, I decided finally.)

7.
               
Learn to knit.

8.
               
Buy a lava lamp.

9.
               
Write something really interesting and profound, that people will remember. (Working on it, list! Patience!)

10.
            
Fall in love, even for a few seconds.
I think this is one of the more important ones to finish.

W
onder what else I could add to this…

I’ll sleep on it, I guess.

123 Days, 27 October, Monday

H
ate how me looking after him when he’s hurt has become a typical thing.

Apparently, his performance of being a normal teenaged boy at his family gathering was less than satisfactory.

He didn’t look quite as roughed up as sometimes though. But still.

“Please don’t worry about me, this is relatively minor compared to the usual.”

It was, I did concede. His wrist was bruised, and his shoulder was dark with multicoloured bruises.

He smiled, “I think I am beginning to be less of a problem in my home.”

I was silent for a few seconds,
then
finally, “You would never be a problem in my house. You could- you could come to live with me… if you want to.”

He considered me with his calculating gaze.

“I doubt that would be possible at this time, but it is very kind of you to offer.”

“The offer will always stand until you say yes.” I said stubbornly.

This earned me one of his rare grins. “If time allows it to present itself as a plausible option, I shall certainly…” he wrinkled his brow, “…take you out on it?”

I laughed, “Up. It’s
take
you
up
on it.”

He smiled again, and then glanced at the clock.

“Excuse me, I must go now. My sister is expecting me. I will see you tomorrow.”

122 Days, 28 October, Tuesday

W
oke up this morning with a really hardcore headache, so I opted to stay in bed until at least lunchtime.

So I missed Physics and Math. My heart bleeds for my lack of attendance.

121 Days, 29 October, Wednesday

H
ad the same lingering headache today too. But I fought through it, and walked to school, noticing the clouds w
ere rolling in quite darkly. G
uess the weather is supposed to be really wet until the weekend. Hopefully it doesn’t ruin Halloween for the kids though.

We started a new topic in Math today, something with a bunch of complicated commands in this damn calculator I’m never going to use again.

I
t’s fun to draw little pictures with the map plotter
dealie
though.

What was remarkable about today though, is that when the teacher got stumped with one of the example questions, the student to speak up and correct him was Noah.

D
on’t think I’ve ever heard him speak up in class. It was almost surreal hearing his soft voice from behind me.

The teacher invited him to the board to write out the equation and then solve it.

He did so, in a way that seemed almost beautiful to me. And that’s saying a lot because Math is horrible.

I think his writing, that lovely script, forming all the letters and numbers in that equation, and then the slight flourish on the last two of the answer. He sat down silently, and stared at his work while the rest of us stared at him.

Some other girls were staring at him,
then
talked amongst themselves. As far as I could tell though, they weren’t making snide comments or
anything,
they seemed legitimately impressed by his obvious brilliance.

“How did you know how to solve for that, Talon?” the teacher asked.

(I guess I could write his name in here instead of referring to him as ‘the teacher’, but I really don’t care for him and his horrible breath, so he doesn’t get a name.
So there.
Ha.)

Noah looked at him, with the usual blank kind of appraisal he has around other people.

The teacher waited expectantly, as did the rest of the class.

“It’s written in the textbook.” Noah said simply. “All one has to do is read it.”

I grinned at his response, brea
thing out a small chuckle. S
o glad he’s my friend. It’s good to be friends with the smartest guy in class.

He did something similar in English, except he went on a lengthy analysis of the text we were reading.

Mrs. Trumpeter seemed all for just letting him talk, but one of the sports type guys spoke up eventually.

“Hey, you can shut up anytime, fag.”

Presumably, this was some kind of witty feat for him as all his friends chortled and patted him on the back. Well, except the o
ne, who sort of looked
away.
W
onder what’s going on with him. Hmm.

Mrs. Trumpeter was irate though, and sent what’s-his-face to the office for his crude language.

Noah was quiet, and said nothing for the rest of the day.
At all.
He just nodded to me as a goodbye, and hurried out of the school.

Dammit
. R
eally wanted to talk to him about how impressed I was about English. I mean, I gushed at him all of lunch about his equation, but his eloquence in English was phenomenal.

Work today was uneventful for the most part.

Although, Terra has a date tonight, sort of a preliminary test with this new fellow before they go out for Halloween. So I just made a small pot of macaroni and cheese and ate alone.

Eating alone is kind of unfulfilling once you’ve become accustomed to eating with other people. There’s less conversation for one.

Here’s my hypothetical conversation with me.

“Oh, how do you like your macaroni, Aerian?”

“Quite satisfactory, it’s just how I like it, with the pinch of nutmeg.”

“I knew you liked the nutmeg, that’s why I added it.”

“Ahh, you know me so well, self.”

“
Haha
, oh
yooou
.”

Geeez
. I should go to bed.

120 Days, 30 October, Thursday