STELLA wrapped her muffler around her neck that it covered her mouth and almost touching her nose. She looked at herself in the mirror at the front door. If people were to see her in her condition at the moment, they would question which one was the front of her body and which one was the back. The thickness of her front hair had made her appearance questionable and she thought of snipping a few ends of it so that it would not confuse people when they look at her.
"Was it cold for you today dear? I did not know the temperature was this low. Your father was sweating buckets this morning," Silvia wondered then she adds, "perhaps are you catching a cold again?"
Her mother put her palm on Stella's forehead. "Hmm. Maybe that was why you're sleeping till late at the library dear?"
"I'm fine," she assured her mother. "It's just I'm feeling cold this morning."
"If you're not feeling well, come back straight home or you can ask your father to pick you up at the institute," Silvia advised her daughter.
Stella nodded.
"Or that I can send her home auntie," Gitto volunteered.
"I don't want you cutting class, Gitto."
"I don't care."
"Gitto!"
"I'm fine," Stella interrupted. She looked at them both. "May we go now?"
She hugged and kissed her mother good-bye at the door and wave her father good-bye when she stepped out of the house. From there she could saw her father in his herb garden, continuing his morning routine of care after a short breakfast.
This morning, they have to walk to the institute. Gitto said to her family at the table that he forgot to take his bicycle last night but Stella knew there was another reason for it. So, she paused in the middle of the slope, far enough from her house and not too late to their walks.
"Gitto," she called out to him that was five meters ahead of her. He stopped walking but he did not turn.
"Are you mad?" she guessed and waited for him to answer her question. A gust of wind blew and she felt more coldness than before.
"Gitto..."
"Let's hurry up, we're walking not riding," he said changing the topic.
He started to take his steps and Stella refused to move not until she got her answer.
"Gitto, are you mad at me?"
"Walk Stella," he commended.
"I'm asking you a question."
"Stella!"
"Is it hard for you to answer me?!" she had to shout because he had gone further than her normal voice could reach him and she succeeded in making him stopped and turned at the same time.
"Yes!" he shouted back. "Now come down missy or we'll be late!"
"No."
She heard him shouted in frustration. This was not the first time they ever have gotten into a fight but it seldomly happened that when it does, she heard to stand on her ground and make it worthwhile. Although it was seldom, it usually involved with Gitto being a knucklehead about something and Stella refused to let it go until she knew the reason why him being like that.
She watched him stomping his feet, climbing up the slope fuming with the determination of not wanting to lose in this fight.
"You," he said then took a breath. He continued, "are making things hard for me." He stared at her with a glare.
"Why?" she asked him in her regular monotoned voice.
Again, he disheveled his hair in frustration. She does not care if they were going to be late at this moment because today, she does not have any class in her schedule. She would be spending her day in Effan's office searching for that book.
"Okay then," he gave up. "If you are so wanted know... let's do this, princess."
"Okay, tell me. Are you mad at me?" she asked.
"No!" He answered.
"You don't have to shout." She could sense that it was the truth. She had asked the wrong question.
"Argh!" He wiped his face with both his hands as if to indicate that he was regretting his decision.
"Are you mad at yourself?"
It seemed like it hit a mark and he heaved a resignation sighed. "Yes."
His face turned red, not because he was angry... he was ashamed and his face turned gloomy like what she saw yesterday evening. A kind of face that she does not want to see anymore yet she sometimes saw it whenever he had not able to achieve the goal, he set on himself. Someone that, as her mother used to say back when she still new in befriending someone, prideful and critical to himself.
"Was it because of yesterday?" It must be it. There was no other reason for him to be like this and his silence answered it all.
"It is because of me," she talked to herself.
"No," he refuted. "I'm mad because I'm incompetent. I promised you that I'll be with you after you meet with Mrs. Trimme but I wasn't there and you got away and I don't know how to find you. Where have you gone to Stell? Why didn't you call me? I've been waiting for you to call for help."
His gloomy eyes changed instantly. His frustration resurfaced. He wanted to be mad at her, to put blame on her and be done with it yet he was not able to do so. Maybe because she was not able to reciprocate his feeling that her friend was hit with a brick wall. Or a stick figure in this case.
"I was behind the auditorium hall..." she recounted all the places she had been yesterday that led up to her meeting with Gitto behind the library. She saw her friend's face changes that when she finished, she could see a vein bulged on his temple. He grunted loudly that he decided for them to walk rather than continue to stand there.
Stella followed him. She tried her best to match her pace with his since he has a pair of long legs and hers were just average. She was running to finally grasped his wrist and forced him to look at her. He made her exercising this early in the morning.
"What's wrong?" She does not understand him. In which part of her explanation that made him so angry that he bolted off like that. "Tell me."
He wanted to laugh. "Mr. Knight's office?"
"Yes, Mrs. Trimme said that he could help me."
"Stella! He was the one that kidnaps you! And you said what? To hell, he could help you. Stella, we've tried everything; doctors, shamans, hypnotism. All but useless. What makes you so sure that he able to help you?"
It was him that was holding her wrist while his other hand was sweeping his hair back from his forehead that glistened with sweat. How come his body becomes hotter but she was the opposite. She should have brought with her winter jacket though it has been ages since last she used it.
"And you even come to institute today because of him? When you have nothing on your schedule?"
"Yes."
"When you're this cold?" He looked at her in disbelief. Like anything that came out of her mouth was nonsense to his ears.
"Gitto, he has that book. He can help me. You know how much it means to me," she tried to plead. It may sound monotone nonetheless she tried.
"Yeah, right."
"What was that face?"
Gitto froze, realizing his mistake.
Stella tried to snatch her wrist from his hand. "I know that I don't have feelings but I can read other's feelings. Their face shows, their eyes reflect. I may lack as a human but you as a friend don't deserve to judge me like that when you already know full well how much I struggle."
She was able to set her hand free and she ran. She cannot believe what she saw. Her very first best friend and he looked at her the same way as other disgustingly had looked on her.
Her heart once again surged with storm much heavier than before that she wanted to hide away and buried herself so that no else would find her. She was barely able to hold her tear ducts from flowing down her cheeks. She cannot believe it. She trusted him. The only person who always by her side and that was what he thought of her. She wanted to forget this.
"Stella!"
She heard him calling for her. He was desperate. So, she gathered her hem and readied herself to run a lot faster than before. Yesterday event had taught her than in times of running, skirts hem and looking back are taboo.
Then again, even having quick feet and wit, having magic was far superior to none. Gitto proved that to her. Stella gritted her teeth. Not more than five minutes, Gitto had slapped her face twice!
"Stella, I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I didn't mean it," he begged and held her arms.
"You mean to say that you did think that I'm worthless is it. The girl with no emotion. What could she possibly know, is it?"
"No Stella. It's not like that," he denied.
"Then what? Oh, my effort to find help is time-wasting? That I should not seek help instead and continue to only rely on you? Is that it? Is that what you always think all this time Gitto?"
Stella does not know what had happened to her body. The words that spilled and the thing that she felt in her mind and body were so foreign. Something wrong with her.
"I'm so sorry. I... just want to protect you. I don't want you to hurt."
"Let go of me." Honestly, she wanted to crawl uphill, back to her house, back to her dainty room and sleep.
"No, Stella. Listen to yourself. You're not being yourself right now."
Gitto tried to look into her eyes. Her front hair was a mess. Her eyes were on display for him to see and she does not want to surrender so easily for him. Not after what he said and showed to her. Her heart was hurt because of it. The pain that she felt, she does not want him to see it.
"Stella please."
"I said let go of me!"
Something snap inside of her like a key finally found its lock. Her body slumped on the brick pavement. She was losing her vision. It was the same as yesterday when she cowered by Owen's presence.
"Stella stay with me. I got you." She heard Gitto's panicked voice. He supported her limp body and one of his arms has become her pillow while the other was patting her cheek. "What's happening to you, stell. Please, stay with me. I'll bring you to the nurse."
In her hazy vision, she saw her friend's face. He was crying and behind him, the cloud had turned dark. Darker than she saw this morning. Her eyelids grew heavy. She wanted to sleep and be carried away by the wind to the place that warm and orange like that professor's room.
"No. No. What's happening to you. Stella!"
She wanted to assure her friend. That she just going to sleep for a while. That she no longer felt hurt by his action. But something else came out from her mouth.
"..."
Small white flakes slowly falling from the skies one by one. A gentle wind blew carried it lazily down to earth before it touched her shut eyelids, that her body disappeared upon winter's greeting.