Subconscious Flirting: What an individual is doing when he or she flirts without even knowing his or her actions are perceived as some type of flirt, can include unconscious touching, compliments and some forms of eye contact.
*
Never, under any circumstances, drink too much liquid in the morning and not pee before school. After sculling down a water bottle on my run with Amada this morning and having not one, but three cups of tea with some of the girls with breakfast, I felt like my bladder was going to explode.
After getting denied permission to go to the bathroom twice, I was at the mercy of the end second-period bell. When I attempted to run through the halls, I was scolded and given a two-minute lecture by a particularly grouchy teacher about how unsafe it was.
I'm about the cause a water hazard in the hallway sir, I mused in annoyance, but I bit my tongue to keep from expressing my growing irritation.
With much relief and incredible awkwardness, I sped walked to the nearest bathroom and relieved myself.
By this point, the bell had gone for everyone to be in their next class. When I emerged from the bathroom, the halls were bare of students.
I puffed out my cheeks as I wandered in the direction of my classroom, half-heartedly pulling out my schedule to double check where I was going. As I turned the corner, movement caught my attention, making me lift my gaze from my timetable to two girls a year below me slamming Mia against a line up of lockers.
It created a jarring sound.
"Got something to say, runt?" the blonde girl pressing Mia against the wall, her books and backpack scattered across the floor. I was about the interfere, but even from where I was standing Mia was grinning, trying and failing to suppress her smile as her small hands clutched the girl's fists. "You think this is funny?"
Mia clicked her tongue and managed a shrug, mouthing something but not verbally voicing it. Whatever it was, the girl understood and proceeded to pull Mia away from the locker and slam her back into them.
"Hey!" I snapped approaching them, "That's enough!"
The girl was startled by my presence, and slowly let Mia slip down the lockers. Mia had gone into a daze, slumping on the ground as she blinked. The girl poked her in the shoulder, forcing Mia back against the locker, "That'll teach you for spitting at me, slut." With that, the girl and her friend started walking down the hallway in the opposite direction.
I kneeled to Mia, while she was rattled enough to scrunch her shaking fists, her face was expressionless, and her eyes were in a focused look as she mouthed that girl's insult. Even when mouthing it, I shifted uncomfortably. "Mia, are you okay?" I asked, pressing my hands around her head to check for any injuries.
Mia blinked, finally acknowledging me as she nodded, shooing away my worry. She seemed more confused them hurt as she pulled her backpack towards her and pulled out her water bottle, biting down on the mouthpiece as she started hastily repacking her bag. I began to help her, gathering up some of her exercise books as she put her pens back in her pencil case.
"What brought that on?" I asked, fitting the books in her backpack.
Mia pulled the lid off one of the pens and pulled some loose paper from one of the books, leaning over it on the ground as she wrote something. When she finished she lid it towards me to read;
She tried to take money from me, so I spat on her hand.
I snorted, realising I probably shouldn't react with amusement to her actions but found them funny. "Bad Mia," I said unconvincingly, "But hi-five. Good job." Mia's hi-five was quick and weak, the motion taking up a second before she continued packing up her things.
Halfway through gathering some papers, Mia paused, grabbing the same document as the one she wrote on before and adding, "I'm not a slut."
The statement was jarring as I shook my head, "No. You're not."
Mia nodded, agreeing with me as she stood up. I frowned, "Do you know what that means?" I asked standing.
Still gnawing on the water bottle, Mia nodded but seemed somewhere else. She pulled the mouthpiece out and continued to mouth the insult, sticking her tongue out when she appeared to conclude something. "Mia, what're you thinking?" I pried.
She didn't answer me and knowing she wouldn't, I got a smile and a shrug. I sighed, "I'll go with you to a teacher," I assured.
Mia shook her head, fitting the water bottle back in her mouth as she hastily scribbled something onto the same piece of paper. "I'll handle it," she scribed, "It's my problem."
"Mia, this isn't okay," I informed, "We're allowed to tell someone. We're supposed to tell someone."
Mia held a hand out for me to stop talking, miming the gesture for me to be quiet, before marching in the opposite direction of the girl.
My throat suddenly felt dry as I looked from one side of the hall to the other. Since I didn't know the girl's name, I doubted I'd be able to do much about it.
'I'd like to report a bullying incident.'
'Between who?'
'My friend Mia and some random chick in the grade below me.'
I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose as I scanned my timetable a final time before continuing onto my next class.
*
"Okay, you ready?" I asked.
Bonnie nodded, although she looked nervous. "Yep."
The two of us were outside, facing each other in the backyard later that afternoon. I ran up to Bonnie and attempted to snatch her from the wheelchair, managing to get my hands under the bend in her legs before receiving a hand to the face and a strike to her shoulder. Despite her attempts, I managed to lift her, her flailing in my arms like a fish. I rolled my eyes and dropped her on the ground, unable to push herself to her feet as I leaned over her and in one motion pinning her to the ground.
Bonnie growled, her hair in shambles as she blew some from her eye.
"Not bad," I commented, releasing her wrists and kneeling beside her, "But you could've been more aggressive with that."
Bonnie grumbled something, pressing her hands against her face as she smothered a squeal. If she could, I imagined her slamming her feet against the ground in a tantrum. "This is hopeless," she stated sitting up, "If someone wants to kidnap me, they're going to. There's not much I can do."
"Perhaps," I admitted standing up and pulling her wheelchair closer to us, "I'm not necessarily trying to show you how futile you fighting back is, rather just something to make it harder." When the wheelchair was beside us, Bonnie climbed back into it without my assistance for the second time since we started. "Because ultimately you are correct. If someone really wants to, they will."
"So, what's the point of this then?" she groaned.
I smiled, "Well one, you asked me to, and two, it's just about stalling or gaining as much attention as possible so that someone else may be able to help you. That in itself might make people leave you alone." I crossed my arms and tried to think of an example, "Like… houses that have dogs are less likely to get burglarised. You know why?"
Bonnie was still in a mood, mirroring me as she tossed some hair from her face. "Why?" she snapped.
"Because a dog's bark attracts attention," I informed, "The same way a baby crying attracts attention. The same way a child screaming attracts attention. We're aiming for you to fight off someone long enough to attract attention while also potentially injuring them." I walked behind her wheelchair and rolled her to the same place she was before. I adopted a Yoda accent, "But for good your skills must be used for."
Bonnie rolled her eyes, "Not a Star Wars fan, dude."
I shrugged, "Shocker." I returned to in front of her. "Do you want me to run through your options again?"
Bonnie shrugged, "Sure."
I smiled, "Don't get disheartened. You can do this, Bon." She straightened her posture and sighed, nodding towards me to begin. "So, as we've established you're in a wheelchair. That simultaneously helps and hinders you." I explained for a second time how a wheelchair meant that she couldn't get scooped off her feet and placed in a car, they would need to approach her and detach her from the chair, but it also meant she couldn't run away. "So someone would need to get close to you, like any normal person." As I spoke, I approached her chair again, my movements slow as I placed my hands on the armrests. "If they come from the front, you're able to reach their chest, crotch, throat and face." I grabbed her hand and placed it on my chest. "You're able to shove, scratch, punch, do anything that gets them off you." I shifted to the side. "From the side, their face is still exposed. Scratch at the eyes, punch the nose, punch them right in the jugular, use your imagination."
I circled to the back, grabbing the handlebars and leaning over you. "This is trickier since you can't reach them, but you're visible to people in front and besides you. You can yell at the top of your lungs that this person is touching your wheelchair."
"What if they chloroform me?" Bonnie quizzed, "Like in the movies."
I leaned forward and rested my chin on her shoulder. "Here's a fact for you, chloroform doesn't react that quickly. It can take anywhere from fifteen to thirty seconds to work. If you're in public someone will see you struggle. Otherwise, I guess, hold your breath? I dunno." I didn't have much experience with kidnapping or chemical knock-outs and stuff, I had to look some things up to adapt my self-defence skills for Bonnie.
I walked back around to her front, "Do you remember some of the strikes from before?" I asked. Bonnie nodded. "Good. Let's just go through those quickly." Just quickly, I had shown her some pressure points in the arms she could hit if someone grabs her chair. I recalled when on the Platform she had punched at the drunken man's arm and knuckles, but not correctly.
I placed my hand on her shoulder, she struck the inside of my elbow and almost struck my face with her elbow when I fell forwards. I nodded, "Good." We continued this for the next few minutes, me placing my hand on her wheelchair, on her arm, her shoulder, her head, and she responded correctly to all my advances.
"Hey, can I ask you something?" I asked, leaning forwards and pressing my arm against her chest.
She mimed an attack on my face. "Sure," she answered as I pulled away.
"Has Mia's bullying gotten worse?" The incident earlier still rattled me, more so since Mia didn't seem affected by it at all.
Bonnie shrugged, "She handles it herself. Hit first, she hits back."
"Because you told her to?" At my mention of this, Bonnie frowned at me.
"Because it's not fair for them to just do whatever they want to her and not receive some sort of punishment for it," she countered, "No one comes after me because I'm that poor girl in a wheelchair. But Mia is that awkward little girl in big people's school. She's an easy target, she needs to establish herself as someone not to mess with."
"I don't think it's working," I confessed, "She got thrown against some lockers today. Pretty bad insults."
Bonnie blinked, "What did they say?"
I described what I saw. Going through all the details, right down to the insult and Mia's reaction to the abuse. Bonnie's face started turning red, getting so bad her ears almost glowed. I could practically hear the tea kettle sound effect coming from her anger. "Those…" she couldn't find the right words, gritting her teeth as her hands clenched into fists.
"Any reason they'd call her that?" I wondered.
Bonnie shook her head. "There doesn't need to be a reason to girls to call each other that." Bonnie pursed her lips before cursing.
"What?" I asked.
"Was this Rachel?" she asked, her eyes turning cold.
"Who?"
"The girl that bullied her. Was it Rachel?" she clarified.
I shrugged, "I honestly can't tell you."
Bonnie slumped in her chair. "I bet it was. The morons don't know the difference between talking and flirting," she hissed, "Rachel likes this guy in our year, Daniel Pelew. He's in Mia's Earth Environment and Chemistry classes. She's top of her classes and recently started helping him. He keeps saying she's got the biggest crush on him, in their study sessions she can't keep her hands off him. It's perverted." She was speaking through her teeth.
"Well, is she?" I asked. Bonnie's glare turned to me, I needed to tread lightly. "Not that aggressively, but is she flirting with him? I mean, she is eleven. Experimenting and all that crap. You guys do it all the time."
Amidst the flushed anger, Bonnie blushed slightly but ignored it. "But that's the thing, she's eleven. Mia couldn't care less about boys. And even if she did, it's frustrating that they're insulting her for an exaggeration of something she might not even be aware she's doing. She's a kid for God's sake!" Bonnie's eyes were getting glassy from frustration, her knuckles turning white from how tightly she clenched them. "And I don't know how, but they heard about her going into the boy's showers that one time to help you."
I widened my eyes. "How did people hear about that?"
Bonnie shrugged, "No clue. Rumours spread quickly when they're about the 'Disability Ward.' Yet you'll note there's been not even a peep about Amia being in the shower room." Bonnie was getting worked up as she started rolling towards the house, parking herself in the shade as she wiped her eyes from her tears of frustration.
"Bonnie, calm down. Don't work yourself up about this," I said kneeling before her chair.
"It's not fair on her," Bonnie snapped, "I hoping Mia does something horrible to her."
"Well… now that I have a name I'll go the School Councillor, or even the Principal if it's that bad," I assured, "If Mia reacts, they just react back, and then when does it end."
Bonnie shook her head. "They won't stop tormenting her. They haven't since we got here. Doing nothing does nothing, and telling the teachers does nothing."
I shook my head, "Bonnie, I'm sure that's not true."
Bonnie didn't try to hide her smirk. "We're all liars, Landon. They don't believe us, and the worse thing they've gotten is lunchtime detention." She relaxed her jaw with a sigh and said, "Can we continue? I really want to hit you now."
Before I could answer, a light flashed beside us, getting both our attention as Mia stood there, holding the camera up to her eyes in the aftermath of a photograph. She was carrying a large polaroid. The camera whirred as a photo started printing out, the paper itself a black square as she flicked it around to make it develop quicker.
"What're you doing, Mia?" Bonnie asked, rolling to her.
Mia showed off the camera again, watching the black square started to gain colour. "Isn't this Alexis' camera?" Bonnie asked, taking the camera and weighing it in her hands. Mia nodded, showing off the photo she had taken of Bonnie and me only a moment ago, it was surprisingly good quality.
She passed it to me to examine. The afternoon light was behind us in the photo, coating Bonnie and I in golden light, and making us look like we were having a romantic moment.
Bonnie framed Mia in a shot, but she managed to cover her eyes with a hand as the flash went off. The whirring sound resumed as it spat out another black square. "What're you doing with the camera?" Bonnie asked.
Mia started signing, her movements slow and coming mainly from her fingers then her hands. Regardless, Bonnie understood her. "What're you thinking of photographing for the assessment then?" she asked.
Mia shrugged, taking the photo she had taken of us and holding it up, her face showing absolutely no passion for her work. Bonnie, however, smiled and swapped the camera for the photo. "Can I keep this?" she requested.
Mia nodded as she started fiddling with the flash. "Alexis always had high-quality crap," Bonnie stated as she balanced the photo on the closest window sill. She looked to me, "We continuing, Dorm Guard? Maybe Mia can get some images of me kicking your ass." She rolled forwards, her wheelchair running into my legs. I yelped in pain and jumped away from her, but she pursued me quickly, continuing to try and run me over. All the while, I occasionally saw a flash in the corner of my eye, once managing to face Mia's camera head-on and getting wholly blinded by the flash.
*
I had noticed Alexis had been spending more and more time at the dorm when doing her work now. When I walked into her room later that afternoon, she was at her desk drawing. Despite me forgetting to wear the bell, she could hear me coming in.
Her pencil stopped gliding across the page. "Landon?" she guessed.
I gave her a thumbs up, shifting the ham sandwich I had made to my other hand, "You are correct."
She placed her pencil down and turned in her chair reaching her arms out to me, "Either hug me or feed me."
I looked down at my snack. "Righto." I took half my sandwich and pressed it against her lips, surprising her as she bit down on the corner of the bread and grabbed it to keep it from falling. "Good?" I asked sitting on the edge of her bed as she munched through it hungrily.
"Not what I wanted, but I'm not complaining," she replied, fitting the rest of the bread and ham in her mouth. It wasn't an attractive sight, but after some struggled chewing it was gone.
I tried not to lose my appetite at the paint fumes still assaulting my sense. "What'cha working on?" I asked, nibbling the crust of my half.
"Just doodling," Alexis informed, turning back to the desk.
"How does a blind Alexis doodle?"
"She doesn't give herself a centre point," Alexis replied, running her pencil in circular motions. Unlike her usual calculated movements, this was just free-flowing. When I stood and peered over her shoulder, I had no clue what she was drawing. It was a mass of scribbles and different toned graphite lines. I rested my chin on her shoulder, my arms eventually wrapping around her in a hug. She didn't acknowledge my embrace until she dropped her pencil and announced, "My Masterpiece!"
I chuckled, "Clearly."
She elbowed me gently. "Shut up." Alexis turned in her chair, forcing me to adjust my hug as she stood up and wrapped her arms around my neck, teasing me with her presence as we brushed noses. Eventually, the two of us softly kissing each other as we spoke, "Haven't spoken to you all day," she said.
"When I got home, Bonnie wanted me to teach her self-defence stuff," I informed, my words interrupted by a long kiss as Alexis leaned into me.
"Yeah?" she babbled between grazes, "How does that work?"
"Awkwardly," I confessed. Slowly our kisses became feverish, and it was hard to get a word in between us.
Together we were slowly stumbled backwards until my legs hit her bed and we fell back. It shocked both of us out of our make-out session as we laughed, Alexis rolling off me to lie beside me. Between us we were both slightly out of breath, my lips still tingly from her.
"Mia showed me your camera this afternoon," I commented.
She steadied her breathing and nodded, "Yeah?"
"Took a nice picture of Bonnie and me," I informed, "Not to discriminate, but why do you have a camera? Do you just snap a pic and hope for the best?"
Alexis laughed, "Pretty much, yeah. Dylan got the camera for me when we were together," she informed. I liked Dylan well enough, but just the mention of him in this context made me press my lips together. "You use your eyes to take pictures, I literally use sound and smell," she informed, "Maybe two years ago I made a portfolio called Cherry. I took photos of anything I found that smelt like cherries."
I was interested in that way of making art, but before I could ask, Alexis spoke. "How's Estelle going?" she asked, her hand finding mine. Instead of holding it like I expected her to, she just started playing with my fingers.
I looked down at my hand as she did this. "Yeah, she seems better. The whole thing kinda freaked her out, me too actually," I confessed.
Alexis snorted, "That's such an old-fashioned practise," she stated, taking her hand from mine and stretching, "But I mean like if you can get past the fact that feral as hell, that's quite the setup. Wouldn't have to worry about marriage that way, I guess."
I managed a slight chuckle. "If we were in India or some Asian countries you'd be traded for livestock."
I recalled one time while travelling, my Father and I were accompanied by eight people, three guys, four girls, and one of them was a couple. When we were walking through the markets, we all remember distinctly hearing a man yell out, 'I give you three cows for her.' We all laughed it off, but what really got me was that the man was earnest.
"Oh yeah," Alexis hummed, "How much do you reckon I'd be worth?"
I considered this for a moment. "Well, you're blind. That lessens your value."
Alexis winced, "Ouch, dude."
I chuckled and apologised. "But maybe… three chickens and a goat."
She shrugged, "I can't be mad at that. I like goats."
I looked at her, her unfocused eyes staring at the ceiling. "You wouldn't get the goat. You're Father would get the goat."
"Now that's just cruel." She threw her arms in the air.
I laughed and rolled slightly, wrapping my arm around her front and pulling her towards me. She turned into me, snuggling against me when she was close enough. "To me, I'd say you're worth at least a horse and a goose."
She vibrated next to me when she laughed, lifting her head to look me in the eye. "Wow talk dirty to me."
We shared a laugh as she gave me a quick peck and sat up, stretching her arms above her head and yawning. "As much as I love these conversations, Landon, I gotta finish my Love project," she stated hopping off the bed.
I looked around the bed for my half of the sandwich I had left on the sheets. "How's that going, by the way?" I asked, crawling along her bed in search of my sandwich.
"I'm getting there. Do you want to see?" Alexis offered.
I froze mid-search and scanned the room, wondering if the canvases propped against the wall was one of them. "Sure."
Alexis approached the corner of the room, examining a label hanging from a small rack of paintings. She was running her fingers over the different shelves and different frames in search of the right one. While I waited, I looked around the room, smirking when I saw the bust she was doing two weeks ago sitting in the corner. It had dried off and was now a proper bust of my head. It impressed me she caught my likeness at all.
"I've got two style ideas," she informed pulling two canvases out. They were just medium-sized frames, able to be held side by side in her hands. On the right was bright and colourful, a rainbow of chaos coming from the centre of the canvas and spreading outwards to the edge. In the centre, and the focus, was an outline of two jet black figures, a guy and girl, mid-kiss and holding hands. The second painting was more symbolic looking. Black background with silver highlights showing off a splotch of red that resembled a rose with a broken green stem and a ribbon torn up and full of holes. I leaned in to take in the remarkable detail of the fabric but saw it was a real ribbon.
"Mixed media," she informed when I commented on it, "Because love isn't always one style." She rested the two on the ground, running her hands over the two artworks, "They aren't done yet, but they're getting there."
"It's honestly ridiculous how talented you are," I informed standing and giving her a long kiss. In the moment, her hands slipped off the frames to hold my face, taking in the kiss.
But before we could deepen it, she gently tapped me on the chest. Begrudgingly, I pulled away. "Not now," she said, despite this, she was flustered, tucking some hair behind her ear as she tried to brush me off, "I gotta work. Go, be gone! You're distracting me."
I laughed, "Well, sorry." I gave her another quick kiss before making a final look around the room for my sandwich, but still not finding it before I left.