Yesterday's ordeals all melted away in the searing heat of agony I had to endure during English class. Who would have thought it was so difficult to restrict one's eyes to their desk when drawn to an irresistible focus? That focus, of course, was Melissa. I was entranced by her benevolence and sheer magnanimity. She, who had descended from on high, came for the sole purpose of gifting me a new name.
At last, class ended. I managed to restrain my inner desire to stare at Melissa the entire period, and only allowed myself two-hundred and thirty-seven peeks at her glorious face. It seemed a reasonable number at the time, but maybe my overindulgence was a little odd. Though in my defense, I couldn't have survived the three-hour lecture otherwise.
As I was about to pack up my things, I heard light footsteps approaching. My eyes rose to meet Melissa's. I blinked several times, unsure as to whether I was hallucinating.
Her hands fidgeted with the hem of her school uniform, "Travis, I wanted to ask you something... is now a good time?" She asked.
Subconsciously, I slowly nodded. There was no need to even ask, though she was unaware of that fact.
"I still feel bad about what I did yesterday, but I wasn't sure what to do, so..." She began, her hands increasing their fidgeting speed with every word she spoke, "would you like to go somewhere?"
Her words fell on deaf ears. My mind went blank the moment I witnessed the adorable Melissa, fidgeting nervously while she summoned the courage to make up for her mistake. I had risen to a new plane of existence.
"We don't have to if you don't want to, I just wanted to treat you to lunch or something."
"Uhhhhh..."
There was a lull in my brain's activity. I couldn't string two words together, much less give a response to her request. A traffic jam clogged up my thoughts. Do I say yes? It's only to make up for what happened, right? What if I mess up?
Just as I was about to untangle the emotions wound about my train of thought, Melissa suddenly turned away.
"...N-nevermind, okay, I'm sorry I bothered you!"
I watched dumbstruck as she quickly marched out of the classroom. Her friends looked from the door to me, and back again, confused by her sudden departure,
I figured now would be a good time to leave. The last thing I needed was a misunderstanding on top of yesterday's incident. So, I finished putting away my things and darted from the classroom in pursuit, the puzzled expressions of Melissa's friends trailing in my wake.
Outside of the classroom, I quickly surveyed the corridor to the left and right. I could barely make out her back against the white wall at the end of the corridor to the right. She was about to turn the corner. If I were to catch her, I had to run.
And so I did. I streaked past classroom after classroom. Just as she turned the corner, I ground to a halt behind her. I grasped her shoulder while gasping for air.
"Hah...waid...you didn'd bodder me...!"
She spun around to meet my sudden appearance. Nearly imperceptible tears had formed in her eyes. She hurriedly wiped them away before speaking with a throaty whimper.
"I'm sorry for scaring you, okay? I-I didn't mean to... I just....couldn't put up with them anymore..."
Her breakdown left me at a complete loss. My three years of research and writing didn't prepare me for a scene like this. In the world of my novel, I could shape a girl into whatever I wanted them to be, to make them a character perfectly suited for the purposes of making Luke shine. But here, I couldn't write how I could handle this situation. I couldn't read Melissa's lines.
I awkwardly stood in silence as I watched her beautiful features melt into a tragic upending of all my preconceptions. I never thought of her as a fragile person. The circumspect air she always carried led me to believe that nothing could get her down, let alone worry about what I thought.
"You didn'd scare me ad all, Vice president." I said, veering away from directly using her name, "You said you'd tread me, right? Led's go to the cafeteria then."
"A-Are you sure I didn't scare you? You looked so frightened yesterday..."
"Frighdend?" I asked, puzzled.
Retracing my steps mentally, there didn't seem to be a time I was scared by her...
"I wanted to ask for your help yesterday, but I... didn't do it with the best intentions in mind... But when I did, your face looked so frightened. I thought I was scary to you... and then you got torn up.." Her broken explanation gradually trailed off.
I was drawing blanks. But then again, if I didn't notice it, it was probably a simple misunderstanding. Though it seemed she was bothered by what happened yesterday.
"Resd assured, someone like you could never scare me, Vice president. And don'd worry about yesterday, that's all in the pasd." I calmly reassured her,
We stood there for several minutes, for me to catch my breath, and for Melissa to recover her composure. Suddenly, she began giggling through her sniffles.
"We aren't in the best of shape are we?" She asked dryly.
I smiled in return. We made an interesting picture, at the corner of the hallway; a half-bandaged mummy, and a tear-stained deity. I motioned in direction of the cafeteria, opposite the direction she was headed before, to which she nodded.
Let it be said, that I am somewhat of a coward. Though I haven't any troubles with making do in the day-to-day interactions customary of living, nothing in my meager repertoire of social skills allowed me to converse freely with a divine being. One could say that trying my best was the correct answer, or that being yourself was even more accurate. While cliched, they certainly pose interesting points that can mean a great deal to someone skilled in the arts of communication.
My solution, however, couldn't be any further removed from these tried and true methods. One could say my solution was revolutionary, an absolute marvel of human social engineering.
Indeed. For while we both sat in complete silence at the table in the furthest corner of the cafeteria, we slowly sipped our colas. Other than the uncomfortable atmosphere between Melissa and me, there wasn't much more I could ask for.
Denial aside, what could I even dare to say? Only moments prior, I watched the idol of my life break down into a bawling mess. If I brought up what happened, I would've been an insensitive prick, but opting to ignore what happened and talk about some other topic would be just as bad. Thus, I resorted to my final option: the awkward silence tactic.
With my nerves barely under control, I mildly sipped my cola, as did she while she sat across from me. All the while, the eyes of our fellow classmates burned into the back of my skull. The cult was pretty lively today, must be a sabbath night tonight, as their vengeful auras were especially deadly. My first instinct was to ignore them, but after yesterday, I had a feeling that they might be needing a new sacrifice. With that in mind, I decided to lay low over the next several days.
"So I heard you liked Judgement of Fantasia from Victor, is that right?" Melissa asked, breaking the ice.
Startled by the sudden collapse of my artificial standoff, I quickly replied, "Y-Yeah, you could say that I read it from dime to dime." My voice croaked somewhat from my nervousness.
"You're the first boy I've ever known to have ever enjoyed reading it... other than Victor. He's something of a... special case." She remarked, her expression rueful, "Since it's aimed at a more feminine reader base, it's somewhat surprising to hear."
She leaned forward, a sly glint in her hazel eyes and a knowing smile spread across her face, "So, are you into that?"
"Into whad?" I asked, puzzled by her vague inquiry.
"You know... that."
"I don'd know whad you mean."
She gave me a sideways stare, disappointed with my answer, "Fine then, be that way."
With that, we both fell to quietly sipping our drinks once more. I racked my brain for something else to keep the conversation going, but it took everything I could to simply keep it together. Finally, it hit me.
"Why do you like the author?" I blurted out. As I did, I began to realize that I was being too personal and slightly flushed at the stupidity of my question.
For a moment, she paused, her eyes turned downward at the surface of her drink. She toyed with the straw as she thought.
I felt as if her eyes, still reddened from her tears, were looking somewhere far away as they gazed into the depths of her cola.
"I just like Anon, that's all." Was her flat response.
Despite her evasion, I could tell there was more, for while she said those words, in a fraction of an imperceptible moment, a small, thoughtful smile appeared on her otherwise calm expression. Her eyes glistened with earlier's moisture, filled with a mystery only she knew.
At that moment, my heart was tinged with her colors. I knew that somehow, someway, I had to get closer to find out why she loved Anon's writing... no, my writing. My hesitation from before flew in the face of a newfound resolution.
I would make Melissa fall for me. Not for my anonymous persona, or for anyone else. Only me.