Just decided to post up this one short story I wrote a while back in february. The idea came to me based on a life event, as well as a Haruhi Suzumiya arc in the anime If you have time please give it a read. I thought it was pretty good, but ya never know, ya know? Anyway, it's about 20 pages long, I'm separating it for reading convenience purposes. It's a bit mature with language and certain scenes, but nothing over the top. Lots of references and allusions, see if you catch them all. Hope you enjoy.
! Circles
! Chapter 0
! Holding the phone away from his face, Kel Montgomery wiped away non-existent tears. Oh, he was in the state to make them. They simply never fell, never formed. Staring down at the beaten up device like it was death, catching the time as 6:00, he noted the END button most of all. With a shaking hand, he pulled the phone back up to his ear. It rattled against his black earring that he'd once thought made him look cool. Now it just annoyed him, a clang in his ear to add onto everything else.
! “I… I understand.” His voice wavered. He opened his mouth to speak again, but no words came out. With a silent groan, Kel clutched his chest over his heart. Pressure off the pascal charts built there, he was certain his heart would explode. So certain. Darkness replaced vision, Kel began falling towards the wooden floors. Was this death? Kel wondered. If so, it didn't matter. He accepted it.
! The phone hit the floor....
! Chapter 31.
! Beep Beep Beep The droning sound rang out muted. Kel Montgomery looked up from his notebook, grabbing his glasses off the desk from beside him. Rumbling under a mountain of clothes, he searched for the source of the sound. There was a thud as he picked up a handful of graphic shirts. His phone, some touchscreen whose model he never cared to re-call, laid on the hard wooden floor.
! “Oh, right. It's commercialism love day,” Kel smirked slightly, dismissing the alarm, subsequent set alarms, and a missed call from Talib as well. No time for best friends right now. Today he'd be celebrating his second Valentine's Day with Tara. Amazing that he'd needed an alarm or would've forgotten, but Kel could often get too into his literary pursuits.
! Closing his notebook, Kel grabbed a random graphic tee from the pile. Speed Racer? Good enough. Keys, wallet, and lighter. Everything in tow, Kel walked out the door. A sudden tremor hit him as he walked through the arch. Ignoring it, probably just from smoking, he walked out the door.
! Charred ruins, abandoned houses, liquor stores and graffited bankrupt businesses flew by. He'd stopped at the gas station to buy a black. As usual, people had given him odd looks. Possibly for the shirt, maybe the shorts he was wearing in February, or just because he was him. Avoiding the clerks eyes, he had paid and escaped quickly.
! Unwrapping the black, he grimaced lighting it and inhaling. Smoke oozed from his mouth, coughs following. He turned onto the freeway. Checking the road intermittently, he rode on in silence. Kel didn't really like listening to the radio while driving. For one, he could never find a song he liked. More importantly, even driving was a good time to think.
! Kel thought. What would it be like to drive a flying car? How would people react to it? Better yet, what could be the story behind the guy who managed to invent it? Sci-fi meets automotive factory writing. Some asshole cut him off, Kel slammed down the breaks. Kel didn't honk the horn. Like the radio, he didn't use it, much to piercing of a sound. He memorized the license plate, uniquely the three letters read END. Back in reality, Kel checked the time. 6:31. Shit. Even with the alarm, he'd still managed to be late. Kel was often late.
Switching over to driving with his knees, Kel text Tara. [On my way. Be there soon…. Happy Feb. 14[SUP]th Waffle.] Kel was meticulous about his grammar, even his texting. As such he parsed over the message before sending it, almost crashing into the asshole who'd cut him off. The END on the license plate felt ominous. With the text sent, he imagined how to describe the carnage of a freeway pile-up. Short story idea. Collision Course, he'd call it.
! Freeway faded away into main street, main street transformed into the quiet of residential blocks. Shopping centers, department stores, and luxurious large houses sped past. Tara lived in a much nicer neighborhood than himself. Her favorite restaurant Lariamo's, rated 5 stars for it's overly expensive imitation Mexican food, was as crowded as always. A BMW drove next to him. Kel slowed his escort down, letting it go on.
! Tara's house loomed over him. A giant home that just screamed out middle class. He couldn't see exactly where the backyard ended and the pond began. [I'm outside.] Kel texted. Putting the black out, he rolled down the window in a vain hope to erase the smell. Tara didn't like him smoking. He waited.
! Tara was just as beautiful as ever. In fact, more-so. Wearing a purple half-shoulder shirt, black cami underneath, and ripped black skinny jeans, she looked perfect even down to her high heeled, no doubt name brand, shoes. Tara was always fashionable, one of her prided traits. But Kel wasn't much into fashion, except by accident. He enjoyed when Tara found a middle ground and dressed rather casually. And only two items not from a boutique or well known store was about as casual as Tara got.
A tremor shook his body again as Tara got closer. Her drive-way seemed even more enormous than usual. He ignored the tremor, damn blacks. Kel opened the door from the inside.
! “Hey.” He smiled, leaning in for a kiss.
! “Hi.” Tara kissed him back, just a peck. For Kel it felt right and wrong. Right as kissing a girlfriend on Valentines should feel. Wrong as most body contact sometimes felt to him. Like, maybe, it wasn't right.
! “So, I was thinking we co-”
! “Where have you been?” Tara cut in. Even with a rather furious look on her face, Kel still found her adorable. In the back of his mind, some voice asked if this was the best he could do. Too most Tara was beautiful, the epitome of a girl. Sometimes, Kel had weird thoughts.
! “What do you mean?” He drove off, eying the three fancy cars in Tara's drive-way.
! “The last time I talked to you was three days ago. Whenever I called you didn't answer.”
! “Oh, yeah, sorry about that.” She'd called? He hadn't noticed. “I got lost in my writing. Figured since we'd made plans for today we'd just talk then.” Among the things he hated, talking on the phone was one of them. Besides, it was illogical for people to need to talk everyday. More importantly, he needed time alone to write. Sometimes Tara just didn't understand Kel…
! “No, it doesn't work like that! I wanted to talk to you! Just because you...” She let out a huge sigh. Kel imagined humans spliced with Elephant DNA. “You know what, forget it. It's Valentine's Day. And I have the perfect boyfriend right? Why not be happy.”
! “Aww, thanks baby.” Kel smiled, not grasping the sarcasm. Tara stared at him increduly. Eyes on the road, Kel didn't notice.
! “So, I was reading this article on modern politicians today…” Kel began one of his famous long winded “discussions”. The amazing stuff he looked up deserved to be told to someone, Tara was the ideal choice. Often, he wondered why no one had bothered to look it up themselves. Sometimes, it seemed like no one was intellectual anymore. Frowning, Tara stared off into the distance, half listening. Kel needed no responses, he kept going.
! The neon light of the movie theater's sign illuminated Tara's face, Kel held the door open for her to get out. “And basically, both sides lose fighting for the mythical truth.” Kel finished in a wheezy exhale. Tara nodded absently. Her face looked rather blank.
! Walking through the parking lot, counting idly how many spaces away he parked, Kel ruminated on Tara's expression. Sometimes people's facial expressions confused him. He'd messed up flirting, or worse things, many of times by misreading body language. With Tara he tried to be as correct as he could, even if he ended up more wrong than not. “I'm sorry about not calling. You know how wrapped up I get in fantasy.” He took a shot on sadness.
! “Don't worry about it,” Tara waved him off. Her face was still blank, and her voice even less expressive. Still pondering, Kel held the door open for her.
! Standing in line next to Tara, the environment of the movies didn't feel as pressing as normal. Oh, he still noticed the same things as always. Countless eyes staring at the badly dressed nerd and beautiful girl. How cool the theater would be as a fight scene for superheros. How happy everyone looked in a reality he escaped as often as possible. Things were just less bothersome. With Tara, a lot of things always were.
! “What do you want to see?” She looked pretty, squinting with her tiny Half-Asian eyes. “Something romantic, maybe...”
! “I don't care.” He counted how many visible cameras he could see.
! “I hate when you do that.”
! “Do what?” Was she frowning because he was too close to her? How close were boyfriends allowed to stand...
! “Say you don't care. It annoys me.”
! “Well, I don't. It's just a statement of fact.” Definitely too close. Why was that guy staring like that? How much had that chain costs... people waste so much money on materialism.
! “Yes, yes... let me guess, it's just logical right?”
! “Indeed.” What if that girl was a secret agent who got her missions cryptically from films? Oh, shit. What if EVERYONE was.
! “Fuck it. I'll pick the movie.” Tara snapped. Kel felt confused. Was she cussing from anger or for accentuation?
! Tara chose a romantic film. One of those types which all seemed to fall twenty pages short of reaching the Notebook. Kel didn't complain. He honestly didn't care, so long as he was doing it with her. Tara reached for his hand as they walked to number 14, Kel shied away.
! “Wait until we get inside.” He said. Public displays of affection were weird. “Besides, it's dark in there at least.” Kel winked. Tara didn't seem to hear the joke, her mouth seemed to be in a constant frown. Too vulgar? Kel wondered.
“Oh, that was nice. Could've been better, but I enjoyed how they wrapped it up in the end.” Tara smiled, walking towards the car. She hadn't let his hand go. Kel rubbed her fingers idly, eying around the parking lot. Tara peered at him for the corner of her eye, she smiled harder.
! “I don't know...” He counted backwards towards his car. “It was cliché. I saw the ending coming in the first fifteen minutes. I mean, I know it's a romantic comedy but they don't all have to be the same formula. In fact, while watching it I thought of one about a telepath who...” Kel began, Tara gripped his hand tighter. Kel continued talking, still counting.
The light from Tara's phone lit up the car, covering her face in a strange blue glow that made her look angelic. The light made Kel's eyes hurt. Driving one handed, he glanced at the screen.
! “Why do you use Twitter?”
! “What do you mean?” Tara didn't look up. She still held his hand.
! “Err, well, I was just wondering if you had a specific reason. I just figured it'd be an interesting lead-in to technological addiction.” Tara sighed. She unleashed his hand.
! “Don't start talking about that right now.”
! “Why not?”
! “I just don't feel like it.”
! “So... want to hear a random fact then?”
! “I don't care, indulge yourself.”
! “Sure, no problem.” Kel eyed the black. Not until Tara was out of the car. “Did you know Thomas Edison was behind the first sound movie?” He liked displaying his intelligence to Tara with random trivia. She often made him feel smarter than he really felt.
! “Oh, gee Proffesor Montgomery. That's sooo situated to an after valentine's date conversation.” For a wonder, Kel caught the sarcasm.
! “Well... you said you didn't care...”
! “I was being sarcastic Kel! I'm not in fucking class right now! I'm with my boyfriend, on Valentine after a romantic movie!” Why was she yelling?
! “Intellectual conversations aren't only-” A muffled sound from his pocket, bringing about another tremor, silenced him. Cause after all.... you're my wonderwall... Strange, that was Tara's ringtone. “Hello?” Kel answered.
! “Kel... we need to talk.” Tara said from his side.
! “One moment Waffle, I'm on-” The headlights hurt his eyes.
! The road vanished, replaced by grass and dirt that pitched in and out of view. Newton seemed to have been wrong about gravity as Kel floundered around inside the car, hands searching for Tara's. Gray seats vanished, the night sky flew by in a blur, pieces of glass danced in the sky with him, illuminated like fireflies in the moonlight. He landed on the ground hard, breath wrenched away, he tumbled a few feet thinking maybe Newton was onto something with gravity after all.
! The world stopped spinning. For a moment, he stopped thinking. Stomach lurching, Kel pulled himself up from the ground. It took a while for bearings to gather, but eventually the amtrak that was his mind roared into motion. His body felt like he'd hugged Johnny Storm, one rib at least had to be broken, and his right leg had experienced much better days. He hardly paid attention to the blood, the cuts on his arms mosquito bites, his ripped shirt unnoticed, he frowned in consternation at his notepad amid shrapnel on the trampled grass. Mentally, he felt raging fear and pain, along with a slight curiosity on finally breaking a bone. Then skipped in concern. Physically, his face was as emotionless as ever.
! “Tara.... Tara... Tara!” He yelled out, monotonously. Screeching tires called his attention, and both furiousness and amazement came from reading END on the retreating license plate. The yells continued for a moment more, vanishing to whispers as his eyes fell on her. Arm at a sickening angle outside the window, she hung upside down in the car. Tara was his better in a lot of ways, she'd remembered to wear a seat belt. The gray harness around her chest moved up and down. She was still breathing.
! With ragged breaths, and a slow, painfully slow, limping gait, he made his way towards her. Pain was rejected as a hurdle. He couldn't let her die. Not Tara. He could never lose Tara. What would he do without her? Who else would ever dare to love him? A pressure built in his heart. He felt a tremor. He blamed the accident.
! Internally, he prayed to various Gods he didn't believe in, mostly petitioning Karma to not be a bitch for once. In the back drop of that, he contemplated if this experience would help with writing Collision Course. Externally, he reached out and grabbed her hand. A flickering spark of fire flashed somewhere, he fumbled with the seat belt, grabbed her hand and pulled with all his strength.
! As he pulled her safely into his arms, the pressure in his heart got tighter. Despite the body wrecking tremors, Tara felt good in his embrace. Darkness overcame vision, falling replaced pained stability. Somewhere, in the vague distance of darkness, he heard a voice coming from his cell phone.
! “Hello? ...Hello? Kel, are you there?”
! Chapter 83
! Beep Beep Beep A muted sound rang through the room, groggily Kel pulled his face from Richard Dawkin's “The God Delusion”. One of those books he read to seem smart. Wiping away sleep from his eyes, he reached out and put on his glasses. Throwing up clothes from his floor, he sighed hearing a hard thump, nonchalantly picking up his phone. He wiped dust from the touchscreen, hardly registering the cuts and scuffs on the model unknown device. He'd dropped his phone a million times, who cared? There were much more important things to worry about then phones. Except maybe contemplating technological addiction, that seemed a worthy thought.
! Cursing silently to himself, he dismissed the alarm, contemplating calling Talib back. Deciding to ignore it until later, he shut off the rest of the alarms. Kel was a deep sleeper. Typically, he stayed awake with a book or pen until his body gave away. As a result he often set his alarm for every ten minutes. 7:10, 7:20, 7:30… Today, being his and Tara's second valentine and all, was special. He'd set the alarm every five minutes. It still hadn't woken him up in time.
! Snatching up a random shirt, Fight Club, oh ho ho sign of a good day, he rushed out the door. He ran so quickly to his car, fingering his Flash emblem tattoo, he hardly noticed the strange tremor that shook his body.
! Pulling up in front of Tara's huge house that seemed like Summer Roberts would live in, he put out a recently purchased black and mild. He really shouldn't have stopped and bought one, but being MORE late didn't seem any worse than being late in general. Wondering what dating Rachel Bilson would be like, amusing over the “Dear Summer” Jay-Z remix he'd made from an older Seth Cohen's viewpoint, he text Tara. [I'm outside.] Glancing at the time, 7:23, he waited.
! Rachel Bilson was hot and all, and being like Seth Cohen even more epic, but he had Tara. Being a blasian, half-Black and half-Asian, she really was a beautiful combination. Dressed in a black cardigan, low-cut red shirt, and crimson mini-skirt, she was more fashionable than he ever could be, even if he actually tried. Not for the first time, he questioned why this blasian goddess loved him. He stepped out the car, and held open her door.
! “Where have you been?” Tara asked with a blank expression as he entered the car.
! “Oh, sorry I'm late. Fell asleep reading The God Delusion and my alarm didn't wake me up.” He ogled Tara's never ending backyard and the pond it connected to as he pulled away. She scoffed at the book title.
! “That's not what I mean Kel,” Blankness gone, Tara looked quite furious. “You haven't called me in three days!” Her voice sounded more furious than her expression was. Quite a feat.
! “Right. Well…” Immediately a lie popped into mind, but looking at Tara he managed to suppress it for once, “I thought valentine would be even better as a mini-reunion!” Well, he managed suppressing more ridiculous lies. Besides, humor always countered anger correctly in Kel's mind.
! Whether Tara agreed or not, Kel couldn't tell. He had a hard time reading any expression, let alone the strange one on her face right now. “I'm sure you did.” They drove on in silence.
! The atmosphere of the restaurant crushed Kel like a glove, Tara's presence being the only thing that provided a barrier. Lights were too bright, people all seemed to stare, and the sound from unseen speakers, thankfully low, was annoying. He pacified himself observing the wall decorations. That broken anchor could be really cool symbolism. Fisherman who were praised as idols on a 95% water planet. For the pathos appeal, broken anchor as their symbol, they'd never feel comforted unless at sea hunting. Moby Dick goes Shounen...
! “Smoking or non-smoking?” The host sounded abnormally happy. Most seemed to.
! Glaring back at Kel, Tara answered. “Non-smoking, definitely.”
! “Yeah, I know what you mean. That smell makes me sick too,” The host flashed Tara a smile, gathering up their menus and leading the way. Tara, trying too obviously to hide it, peeked back at Kel. His face was blank, eyes searching across people and decorations. He wasn't really the jealous type. When you loved someone, you didn't mistrust that they might run off, that much just seemed logical.
! Kel stopped the host at the booth he saw with the least people around. Stares weighed down from all around, and he attempted to sit down how he assumed normal people did such things. Tara sat across from him. The host sat their menus on the table, flashing Tara another winning smile. Avoiding eye contact, Kel examined him. He was a rather classically attracted black male, not that he felt attraction, but he didn't find anything weird in enjoying aesthetics. He wondered if Tara would enjoy dating a cute, normal guy like that. He said as such.
! “He was classically attractive. Do you think you'd like dating him?” Again, Tara's expression was unreadable.
! “Pancake, I only have eyes for one. Even if I sometimes want to strangle him with licorice.” Kel laughed. Tara sometimes said the strangest things, but her way with words brightened his day.
! “I'll make sure to tell the chef no licorice for your meal.”
! “Oh. I wonder how licorice would taste in an Enchilada...”
! “Sweet, I'd assume. Just like it always does.” Tara laughed, and his heart skipped a beat. Her laugh was odd and switched at even odder intervals, but it was a brilliant song he could repeat all day. He loved making Tara laugh.
! “Yes, yes, good job. I expected a pun...” Tara flipped through the menu, Kel stopped thinking about witty ways to say licorice. Genie porno, lick or wish? No, no. He stopped. “I think I might get beef, my mother may kill me for eating it twice this month but... Mooo!” Half the restaurant looked with raised eyebrows. Tara was unaware, or simply didn't care, casually flipping through the menu.
! “Err, what was that darling?” Those eyes, Argus like in number, were everywhere. He groaned from that awareness, and from the prices on Lariamo's menu. Dating a 'foodie', as Tara titled herself, could get expensive.
! “Oh, never mind darling,” She smiled in her patented southern drawl, perfected from a year in Texas. “Just some trill ass mooing from Old MacDonald's trap house. Mooo!” The immediate change in tone made him laugh. Her moo somehow sounded hood. She paid no attention to the steadily growing stares. Kel, surprisingly, also ignored the stares. Tara's presence protected him, he mooed with her.
! Dinner went by in a pleasant rush of conversation and crowd watching public displays of cuteness. They talked, sometimes using animal noises for full discussions. Kel had no idea what she was saying, but she responded oddly correct in tone for his points about Old Major's cool, if a tad porcine, ideas . When they weren't talking, he pushed away the stares and fed her. They picked off each others plates and other stuff befitting a romantic comedy. He could almost see the cliched kiss at the end. Improvements wrote themselves in his head, he noted them, and kept them to himself.
! As Tara texted a friend, hopefully about her amazing date, Kel waved down the host for the receipt. Waiting, he looked around the restaurant. Musing over clothes and body language, he turned back towards Tara.
! “Hey, what if cell phones were actually magical? Like, instead of technology and stuff, it was really an invisible spirit possessing you to carry messages and voices.”
! Tara didn't look up from the phone, but she smiled. Oh, that radiant smile. Why was she with him? “That would be... intriguing. I think I'd have the right to sue for something...”
! “Ecto-molestation?”
! She looked up with a beaming grin. “The evidence for that might be a bit intangible.” Quite reliably, she found plenty of moments to blow him away. The waiter brought the receipt. Looking over Kel, who felt quite nerdy in graphic tee and skinny jeans, he too smiled at Tara. That smile read 'Lose the Zero, get a Hero'. Tara's eyes never left Kel's face. Picking up the receipt, he felt like Hercules.
! Checking to make sure the numbers added up, as if he'd ever complain if they didn't, he grumbled a bit at the total. 51.44. Always developing patterns that never ceased to engulf his life, while simultaneously being useless, a few whirred through his brain. END, he came up with. Fifth letter, fourteenth, and fourth... An odd thought. Well, for anyone perhaps Kel and Jim Carrey in an awesome movie.
! “Hey, have you ever saw the Number 23? Because I swear I see epic symbols numerically all th-” His breath caught, mimicking Tara in front of him. Clutching at her throat with one hand, she waved frantically with the other. Her face an odd hint of blue, smurf blasian, she was choking. Somewhere from his pocket Wonder Wall played. Ignoring the phone call, Kel leapt across the table like an angry jaguar. Or perhaps, a concerned one. He didn't have much brain room left for analogies. Well, he did. But, he FELT like he shouldn't at least. His phone flew from his pocket.
! “Waffle, Waffle, I won't let you die.” He pleaded, pulling her from the booth and placing his hands around her stomach. Facts read about actual CPR clashed with rapidly flashing scenes of sitcom versions of it. Chuck Palanuik came to mind, along with a story from the viewpoint of food lodged in someone's throat. He ignored both, trying to think how to save a life. Frayed like never before mentally, facially he seemed rather... bored. He felt the staring even now.
! “Come on, you can't leave me...” He said in what felt like a yell, but barely managed to reach outside voice. Tensing biceps that didn't belong on a nerd, he pulled and craved he wasn't breaking a rib. Ah, that's what he'd read. Tara coughed. Fear and doubt dueled relief and hope. The latter broke through a tough phalanx, a piece of medium well steak hit the wall. Her mother really would be angry she ate beef. A voracious inhale from Tara, that sounded way too similar to a moo, lifted his heart against the sudden pressure it felt.
! Darkness en-capsuled everything. Weakness replaced worry enhanced strength. The pressure in his heart grew tighter, he felt like it would explode. The pain of his head hitting the hard wood floor, odd for a restaurant that, barely registered in his mind. His elbow slammed against some object playing a far away song. In the distance, he heard a voice digitally.
! “Hello? ….Hello? Kel, are you there?”
! Chapter 182
! Kel finished counting the cameras in the gas station, glancing towards his watch. 9:02. Tara was going to fucking kill him. He'd been so wrapped up watching One Piece, he hadn't even thought about time until he found his phone underneath a pile of shirts. Adjusting his shirt, a Billie Joel imprinted tee, he tried to ignore how everyone in the store felt as if they were staring at him.
! Empty as it was, only 3 actual customers beside himself, it felt all too crowded. No doubt they were staring at him for wearing cargo pants and vans, with Billy Joel smiling at them an added bonus. Not too many people in the inner city did that. With the staring in the back of his mind, despite his efforts of ignoring, he let his ever racing mind wander. Around Tara was the only time it seemed to slow a bit.
! One of the customers was a white guy, who pulled off almost what Kel himself was wearing much better than he did. Kel never felt like he made any outfit as cool as some people did. The guy, being white and all, seemed out of place in his home city. He had nothing against the Caucasian race, often defending his family's ignorant stereotypes and being called 'oreo' as a result. No, it wasn't that. Kel just felt like everything had a proper place. A Matryoshka view to life, some things just went inside, others stayed out.
! “Bezmogis...” he muttered, casting his eyes away from catching the guy's own stare. Series of short stories, detailing a fictional character who loosely parallels Dr. King, and perhaps has sex with his cousin, just because. No, too simple. Kel found reality to be intriguing enough at times, but rather boring to write about when there were such cool things to invent. Layers... God who wants humans and deities to be equal, each story ends with him somehow shaving a layer of Godliness to prove his beliefs, in the end he hates being human and regrets his decision. Stupid idea. Who would ever want to read such bullshit? A small voice whispered in the back of his head. Kel didn't respond. That thought process ended.
! “What do you want?” The cashier's thick accent snapped him back to reality. Shadily, the man eyed him as if he was the person who didn't belong in the store. At least the white guy was dressed how his race was expected to.
! Clearing his throat, Kel attempted to sound how people in his city were expected to, “Let me get a wine black, nigga.” His voice was as monotonous as ever. The cashier raised an eyebrow as if that was the last thing he'd expected. I eat fucking chicken too, Kel thought, racially, avoiding the cashier's eyes as he walked out. He lit the black well before he was in the car.
! Tara met him in the parking lot of the Hookah Bar. Her face was a picture, painted by Picasso in both beauty and cryptic neutrality. Kel racked his brain for what the expression meant. He took at shot at anger.
! “I'm sor-”
! “Where have you been!?” Vesuvius exploded from Tara's mouth. “First you don't call me for three days, then you're three hours late! And all you do is text a shitty, 'I'm sorry Tara, One Piece got good, be there soon'” He wondered if his voice was that whiny… “Do you know how embarrassed I am?! Not only my friends, but yours as well, are all sitting wondering if you stood me up on fucking February 14th! Oh, and here's a 'random fact'” Air quotes, Kel loved those. “No one was fucking surprised!”
! “I'm sorry my apology didn't satiate you… One Piece really did get good.” He stated plainly.
! “Don't be fucking sarcastic with me.”
! “I'm not being sarcastic T. It really did. You should've saw Luffy's new attack, it was amazing...” Her scowl didn't seem to agree with his proposal. “Besides, I'm here now. You shouldn't allow yourself to worry over embarrassment. Don't worry what people think, just be you.” Two girls, beauties he'd never manage to get if he ever lost Tara, walked past. He wondered whether they giggled cause his shirt was odd. The hypocrisy wasn't lost on Kel, but he held his ground. Stonehenge, he thought, obviously forcing in personification.
! “You're right Kel, you're always fucking right!”
! “I wouldn't say always… Statistically speaking I'm really not that smart, especially in math...” The look on Tara's face reminded him of reactions when Anime characters said unbelievable things. Surprise then. He resisted an urge to yell that out. Didn't feel right at the moment. Perhaps later?
! “You're ridiculous,” She sighed, using clenched fist to massage her temples. “But, I understand. It's not your fault... you can't help it.” There she went with her ridiculous untrained diagnosis again. Before he could contest it, she waved him away. “Just forget it, forget everything. It's Valentines, we're surrounded by friends We should be happy right? Happy... Come on, let's go in.” Tara lead him in. Kel followed along, a bounce in his gait, head held high as he'd read confident people walked. His eyes darted all around. He placed his hands in his pockets so as not to adjust his shirt. Leashed, the hypocrisy still wasn't lost.
! The Hookah Bar's aura made him feel drained just walking through. He didn't have the social energy to deal with this type of thing right now, or ever really. With Tara by his side, he felt a little better. But, he still noticed. As usual, everyone seemed to be staring. Perhaps he was walking weird, or maybe standing to far from Tara. He couldn't be sure. The smiles on everyone's faces seemed odd. Did they enjoy sitting around just talking about daily nothingness? No one was even contemplating how cool a modern day Alice in Wonderland would be. Then again, he'd seen five minutes of Malice in Wonderland, the lack of contemplation about that might be one positive for his generation.
! For all of Tara's talk about embarrassment everyone greeted him rather friendly, even offering him liquor cleverly disguised in a water bottle, which he turned down preferring to smoke his drugs. At least, his friends did, they were used to his …unique personality. Tara's circle on the other hand, varied between flickering head shakes of disappointment and outright angry glares. Except Hillz, who gave him an understanding smile. Kel counted the number of people sitting nearby. They looked content in life, in reality. He pondered how that was. A story formed in mind. He frowned. Tara eyed him warily, no doubt diagnoses were on her mind. Kel sat.
! Being among friends, Kel somehow still managed to feel as if he was sitting by himself. Of course he talked to them, his friends being among the few people he felt comfortable enough to talk to easily. Other things just infiltrated his mind. How come his voice sounded so odd in comparison to everyone else. Why didn't anyone laugh at that joke? Would Tara prefer if his teeth were as straight as Talib's, or perhaps if he had a hairstyle as cool as Ren's dreads. Could now be a good time to share a random fact or an awesome story concept about the Civil War fought by vegetables? Probably not, Fort Salad should stay as a personal joke.
! “Are you okay?” Tara, always the empath he could never be, sat her drink on the table and reached for his hand. He groaned at Ren kissing his girlfriend in public, and let her hold his hand. No escaping with that going on.
! “Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking is all.”
! “Oh, right.” Her expression somehow managed to say 'that much is obvious', smiling she went on in a gentle voice. “I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to go off. Sometimes, I just... I get tired of fighting against thoughts and stories for your attention.”
! “And always,” Kel smiled, he never looked away from staring into Tara's beautiful, if rather small, eyes. “I get tired of making you fight.”
! “Good, then it's time to out cute Jazzi and Ren.” She clicked her tongue, imitation of a stereotypical hood chick on point like some fresh ass KFC, for lack of a better simile. “Come on, Daddy. Mommy bought to get her cute on.” He loved when she called him that.
! “Oh, you know Daddy got ya' shawty. Just keep them humps looking plump.” Kel rhymed.
! “I'm a keep it fergalicious boo-boo.” They laughed. Friends eyed them awkwardly, Kel didn't care. She may often act as if she wanted to strangle him, with some weird food item knowing her, but he loved Tara. With any other girl he could never be himself. With her, he was something even better.
! “You know what dawg? I think that one a keeper. She ride uh die.” Talib joined in with his own imitation hood voice. Both parents black, he somehow had Middle Eastern like skin tone and features. He was the type of person that gave his name as Jesus to strangers. He leaned over the hookah, holding the coal in a pair of metal tongs, his lighter under it. “Oh, by the way, I called you earlier.” His normal voice now, oddly deeper than expected from his under average height.
! “Yeah, sorry forgot to call back. Figured it couldn't be too important... what was it?”
! Talib frowned, staring into the fire from his bic. Sometimes Kel found his friends an equal oddness to his own weirdness, very few times, but often enough. “Nothing big, just was going to say you better fight like Beatrix for that girl, kiddo. Don't want to just let it end.”
! Kel, ignoring a tremor likely from the hookah, opened his mouth for a witty Pulp Fiction fueled retort. His phone ringing cut him short. My wonderwall.. Odd, that was Tara's ringtone. “Hello?” Kel said. In a series of increasingly strange, but possible because of Murphy's law asshole, events, the coal sparked wildly in Talib's hands. Dropping it, like a fool who feels pain from fire, it hit Tara's water bottle of cleverly disguised, if not placed, alcohol, splashing it across her and the table. Sparks sought out the flammable liquid like heat seeking missiles aimed at a Charizard. A river of flame gushed towards Tara. The Vesuvius thing became a weird foreshadow. Kel wondered if those Final Destination guys wouldn't quit because they were onto something. Kel whispered, “Surprise.” Kel sped from his chair as if his Flash emblem tattoo was real.
! He snatched Tara from her chair, twisting around and holding her tight so he'd hit the floor instead. Vaguely, he felt a wave of heat above him. Despite the pressure building in his heart, and the tremors treating him like his last name was Fox, Tara felt perfect in his arms. Darkness consumed everything. His cell phone, still within his grip despite a life threatening situation, slid from his hand. His head slapped down next to it on the hard wooden floor. Yells from unrecognized voices seemed a thousand miles away.
! Making his way down town into unconsciousness, Kel heard a voice, a familiar voice, from his cell phone.
! “Hello?... Hello? Kel, are you there?” .
! Chapter 270
! Air rushed through Kel's open window as he drove a middling speed down the freeway. His lighter sparked in his hand, and he dropped it giving it a strange glare. His recently purchased black and mild now lit, he eyed the time. 10:30. Tara was probably having apoplexy right now. Perhaps she'd excuse him for losing time listening to Childish Gambino. He doubted it though, even if she did claim her heartbeat for the emcee, it was still their second Valentines.
! Parking on the roof of the parking structure, he sat his black and mild on the top car, adjusting his Peter Petrelli of Heroes graphic tee, just as Ren reached him. Without question, not that Kel particularly minded after so many years of friendship, he took the black and mild from the roof. Blowing o's of smoke into the air, he shook his dreads with a chuckle that never changed his bored expression. Kel assumed he was above the influence by direct route of the influence, no doubt a correct assumption about Ren.
! “You got here just in time,” He inhaled deeply. Kel had often had smoking contests against him, leading him to write stories about men with enlarged lungs. “She's like Hitler at a synagogue…” He ran thin fingers through those awesome red-tipped, brown dreads. He had been chunky once, not too long ago in high school, old classmates had asked if cocaine played a part. He was the type of person who'd squat somewhere a week, living off only cigarettes and weed.
! “She growled like broken marbles,” Jazzi, on Ren's arm as usual, chimed in with a voice like baby elves. Hair that changed with the wind, today it was a peculiar purple mohawk. Kel eyed her confused. Ren laughed much too humorously. Kel questioned not only if marble noises could be called growls, but also if they both were riding clouds. A poem of personified marbles forced to fit each other formed in his mind. Vick's Toystore sounded apt, but he suppressed it. Lasering in on him, Tara's eyes were like still.
! The wide open expanse of the roof, chill February wind whipping through his shirt and terribly decided upon shorts, did absolutely nothing to quench it's overbearing ambiance. He could feel everyone's eyes on him, following like ocular predators. Apologies formulated in whatever part of his mind equated humor, resolving, and lies. In another part, a memorized beat repeated itself, lyrics for a song he'd never record falling in place. How Superman flies faster, more arm thrusting he supposed, was the forefront of his thoughts, but even that shrinked to a whisper in Tara's presence. Tara comforted him against the barrage of his own mind.
! Talib and Hillz stood on either side of Tara. Talib, fingering that ridiculous, yet cooler than any he'd ever grow, afro, was blowing smoke into the air. The scent of marijuana teased Kel more than any black could, but he'd need Tara's permission to smoke. Hillz, tight leggings accentuating voluptuous thighs and butt, glared at Talib impatiently for her turn. They both offered feeble smiles. Kel attempted the same. Muscles unused to the expression managed a quirk of the mouth, almost grin.
! “Where have you been?” Tara's voice was a spear. Dizzy, laughably shorter than all besides Jazzi, reflected her emotions like a soul sisters. Being black female best-friends, they like were.
! “Ahh, there's a good explanation involving Childish-”
! “That's not what I mean.” The excuse, despite her proclaimed love of the artist, sliced no tension. He tried to puzzle out what that blank expression meant. Anger? Fear? Intense sexual attraction? Puzzling place indeed. Chin held towards the sky like a queen, she continued. “I was wondering why you hadn't called me for three days. Three freaking days after making plans for Valentines, which you show up late too. I even had your own best-friend call you and you ignored him too!”
! That tone meant fear was out. Intense sexual attraction still had a fighting chance. Some women got off on that type of thing from Kel's, strangely not as minimal as expected, experience. Ignoring a sudden tremor, should've worn a jacket, he contemplated soothing Tara with stories of Marquis de Sade, sadism’s origin. He decided against it. “I… apologize. I put on my headphones, grabbed my notepad, and the rest of the world was tuned out.” He chose his words, carefully.
! Tara sighed. She glanced towards Dizzy, who shrugged in response, her eyes weren't as piercing as Tara's. Then again, pistols weren't as piercing as anti-armory rounds. Eventually, Tara sighed, rubbing her temples. “Fine, fine. There's no use arguing about it here. It's Valentines. Let's have fun. Be happy...happy...” She whispered, her face blank once more. His mind whirred with trying to explain that expression...
! Despite a tumultuous beginning, the evening proved rather relaxing. As relaxed as Kel could find himself. Laughter filled the air, his friends making their usually brand of sardonic, witty, and sometimes inappropriate jokes. Ren pointed a Citizens Bank in view as being an oxymoron of some sort. Jazzi squeaked a strange joke that only Ren and Tara laughed out, seeming odder than usual. Pointing at his shirt, Kel inquired if she was on the list.
! Tara, busy trying to play cupid for Talib with both Dizzy and Hillz intermittently, gave him permission to partake in the green festivities. With little hesitation, Kel greeted Bob Marley, shook hands with Buddha, and talked about his favorite hat's with Kurt Cobain. Intellectualism took hold of the conversation. The girls, not being strong proving their intelligence feminists, weren't big on the subject. Though that purple mohawk never bobbed far from next to Ren's shoulder.
! Tara sat next to Kel, holding his hand as if he was going to try snatching it away again. Talib, asking that they refer to him as Jesus, weaved a tale of the world all being training for one man, infinitely repeated in every life, to become a god. Stories bubbled deep in Kel's mind, dialogue remembered, but for once he felt slightly at peace. Engulfed in the fun, he only half finished counting the windows on the college across the street.
! After effects of hash frenzy setting in, the group entered a relaxed state. The constant slurping of soft drinks and crunching of chips annoyed Kel. He tried to eat his own as silently as possible. Standing near the edge of the rooftop with Tara, eating an unbelievably delicious poptart, he pointed out constellations and stars he could recognize from memory. All paled next to her radiant beauty in his eyes, she was his super nova girl.
! “Zoom over there and you'll see Andromeda,” He motioned with his finger to the stars. Wide expanse of space, like a black swan dotted with jeweled speckles. “Greeks had to be as high as Method Man to see this shit...”
! “Puffing that olympic kush...” Tara spoke, holding him arm in arm, but she was staring at the ground as if it held the wonders of the stars. She bit her lip. “I...I'm sorry for earlier, Kel. I just... get so frustrated sometimes.”
! Kel peered at her fondly for a moment, frowning. “I understand Waffle. People like me aren't meant to be with people like you, or with anyone really. In fact, I sometimes wonder if you wouldn't be better off-”
! “Don't talk like that!” Tara yelled, snatching her arm from his, whirring around with a finger pointed accusingly. But Kel hadn't stopped for her yelling. The stars... did they spell END? “I love you Kel! Only you. If I didn't have you... I just don't know...” She rubbed her temples. “Just, just don't ever say-” Eyes on the stars, Kel never saw the ice on the ground. Eyes on him, Tara stepped on it and slid backwards.
! Hastily leaping over the patch of ice, Kel reached out to grab her. Concrete scratched into knees and elbows. Wind bit at eyes, until the nile flowed from them, he wished those tears were for something else. His phone rang in his pocket, a muted sound drifting to his ears. Cause after all.. Strange, that sounded like Tara's ringtone.
! He didn't put too much thought into it at the moment, better investigated later on. Leaning over the ledge, legs, searing in pain, pressed against it for purchase. Tara's dainty hands felt unpossessing in his hand. Hauling her up, he wondered if attempting a jump would reveal his own, surely possessed, latent superpowers. That thought vanished with sight.
! Feeble legs fall back from the ledge. Tara clung to him tightly, he could feel the wetness of tears streaming from her eyes. He realized his phone had stopped ringing, answered from the pressure of his legs pressing against the wall. He heard footsteps, like shuttling children, coming towards him. Somewhere, in the vague darkness he heard a voice. It pulled at strings of memory like Jimmi Hendrix.
! “Hello?....Hello? Kel, are you there?
! Chapter 358
! Pulling up to Tara's huge house, Kel finished rapping the fresh prince theme song feeling as if, he had indeed, arrived at Bel-Air. “Smell you later,” He said to his beautifully out-of-place in this city Escort. An actual scent, a mix between weed and clumsily put out tobacco, reminded him that he really would smell her later. Glancing at his watch, given as a Christmas gift of materialism that he claimed to hate yet always wore, Kel sighed. 11:59. More miraculously than a so-called 'midnight ice-skating' session that began at eleven fifteen, he'd still managed to be late. His lack of actual skills with his guitar had been freshly remembered though. He was debating if Tara would allow 'trying vainly to be Billie Joe Armstrong' as an excuse.
! An icy foot, from stepping into a puddle marring that exquisite driveway, brought an added complaint. It joined such wonders as who ice-skated outside in the middle of February? Who found ice skating fun at all? Except, possibly Bobby Drake. Looking down at his shirt, he felt even more annoyed seeing a fucking Snork instead of Marvel characters. “I don't feel like a damn allstar.” Smashing his mouth, he stared down at the glittering gold sand, mingling with ice=tipped grass on the edge of Tara's pond.
! Talib and Dizzy skated on the pond with Tara. They both waved, yet kept their distance. Tara skated over to him, a beautiful swan riding on ice. Her clothes seemed both practical for winter, and amazingly what he believed would be trendy. Both things Kel's own outfit had managed to leap a couple meters short of. Somehow, she made ice-skating seem intimidating. Laughable at another time, apology conjuring at the moment.
! “Hello.” Tara loomed over him like a hawk, while still managing to be as adorable as a baby seal. Observing her attractiveness, hoping his negative looks attracted all the positive ones of Tara, he gaped in awe. He tried to re-call the Greek goddess of snow but couldn't and didn't feel like going on Wikipedia, on his phone of course, too look it up. But a deity seemed only appropriate to describe her. Aphrodite would have sent her shearing sheep.
! “My love.” Kel intoned, attempting to seem more than a rookie as he pulled ice-skates on. It was harder than putting on Lifestyle condoms.
! “Where have you been?” She said cooly. Kel, gazing towards the ice, chuckled slightly. Fourth wall wavered. If looks could kill, Tara would be giving Travis Touchdown a run for his money.
! “Sorry, I'm late. I was trying vainly to be Bi-”
! “Not being late. You haven't called me in three days! Four now!” She cut him short, ruining a strongly debated against apology.
! “Oh, that.”
! “Yes. That.”
! “Well, as usual I got lost in stuff. Today I spent most of my time playing the guitar. Brain Stew is surprisingly difficult.”
! “That's it?”
! “Well, I also tried a few other songs, but most came out unrecognizable.”
! Tara breathed out a sharp breath. Kel pondered turning carbon dioxide into a tangible weapon as a super power. He shirked sharing the idea with Tara…. for the moment. “Fine, whatever. You just keep writing, and writing until you get carpal tunnel.”
! Kel finally managed to stand in the demonic creations called ice skates. He quirked his eyebrow. “But, I wasn't writing. I was playing, err, attempting to play my guitar.”
! Tara made her death glare even... deathier. More fatal would've been appropriate, but there's a certain humor to randomly falsified adjectives. “Whatever, you can still get carpal tunnel from that.” Kel laughed, even when angry she managed to say the funniest things. So much wittier than he himself. Realizing how silly she'd sounded, Tara released her death stare and laughed as well. “I suppose I can't stay mad at you, not you...” She sighed, massaging her temples. “Come on, let's skate.” Kel's laughter stopped.
! Skating on wobbly legs across the brobdingnagian pond, berating himself for ostentatious thoughts, Kel felt oddly at peace. Not alone at all really, minus that little thought which told him he'd never fit in with normal people. Tara holding his hand with a sly, vulpine smile, and Talid and Dizzy skating nearby, he felt nothing constricting from the illegally ice skated on pond's mood. Of course, being who he was, his mind found small things to concern itself with.
! Was he skating oddly? Was Tara's sly smile from the hand holding or embarrassment about him not knowing how to skate? Talib's afro seemed predominately cooler than any he'd ever grown. Talib's had a Wiz Khalifa vibe, his tended to lean more Kunta Kente like. Was Dizzy staring because she thought Tara could do better than a pessimistic nerd, too buried in fantasy, and wearing only a hoodie over his Snorks decorated shirt? Could he be thinking too much?
! “Stop thinking so much,” Tara said as if reading his mind. She often did that. Kel contemplated finishing that romance about telepaths, Tara would be good inspiration. “Just let your mind go and have fun.”
! Kel stared at the beautiful girl on his arm and smiled. “I am having fun T. So long as I'm with you... how can I not?”
! “Oh, don't try that Casanova stuff on me. I'm not some easy freak at Wayne State.” She said, but Kel watched a smile spread onto her face. Dazzling, that smile. He wanted to watch her smile forever. Talib skated up, and a tremor went through his body.
! “I feel like we could re-invent Quidditch, only on ice.” Talib offered up a harried concept.
! “Err, wasn't the point of it being flying brooms... you know, the magic?” Kel pottered across the pond. Dizzy and Tara laughed.
! “You guys are such nerds.” Tara jested, waltzing off with Dizzy. Kel wanted to grab her and hold her forever, any girl who waltzed on ice deserved at least that much.
! “Yes, but I'm your nerd.” He called out. She glanced back and for a moment, almost imperceptibly, her smile wavered to a curious blank face, returning instantaneously.
! He half heard Talib's strangely fully developed idea for Quidditch on ice. Hockey sticks as brooms barely made him laugh, complaints about an ignored phone call barely produced a grunting response. Kel's eyes were all on Tara. Skating next to Dizzy, who outdid her in terms of pure skill, she still seemed the center of the world. Of the universe. His universe... Eyebrows lowered in frustration, he noticed the cuts her blade left in the ice. It seemed to spell END.
! “No!” He yelled, lurching forward and somehow managing to stay on his feet. His phone rang Cause after all... He reached into his pocket and didn't care if he pressed ignore or answer. Memory seemed to be play cat and mouse with retrieval. Still, he knew for sure he should've never let her go. If he could just hold on... hold tighter. He heard the cracking of ice, and knew before he even saw his universe fall into the frozen water below. Her screams hurt more than the pressure building in his heart.
! Screams and yells vanished, replaced by a surge of rushing water. Cold sliced through his clothes, through his body, through his very soul, like a sharpened katana. Love, fear and pressure raising grief mashed together as an engine to push him on. Stroking his arms against the samurai of winter, he didn't need heat. If he reached Tara, she'd be all the heat he needed, and more. So much more.
! Fighting against the darkness filling his vision, swallowing Artic liquid that was nowhere near as refreshing as Coke lead him to believe, he reached out with his last hope. Numb fingertips found their way around her hands. Jack not taking turns with Rose finally made sense. He pulled Tara close, frantically searching for a way out. Darkness shut out everything. It didn't matter. She was in his arms. If he had to die... he'd rather it be holding her. Something floated from his back, nudging gently across his face. Submerged in the frigid pond he shouldn't have heard, but the voice was as crisp as the cold.
! “Hello? ….Hello? Kel, are you there?” Odd. That was definitely Tara's voice...
! Chapter 359
! Beep Beep Beep Shivering, Kel pulled himself from a groggy sleep, rubbing at reddened eyes. Coughing, his lungs feeling heavy, no doubt from smoke, he moved his notebook from his chest and reached for his classes. Tossing aside his randomly strewn pile of graphic t-shirts he found the source of the piercing alarm, his phone laying screen first on the phone. Picking it up with a yawn, followed closely by another setting of coughs.
! Dismissing the alarm, and all the following at 5 minute intervals, he noticed a call from Talib. Today was Valentines, the second for him and the love of his life Tara, but a call from Talib was rare enough in any event. They were best-friends, more really, brothers along with Ren and Simon, who was barely around much, no doubt because of their bad communication habits. Most of them were of the lone wolf category. Introverted people who typically only felt comfortable among friends. Phone calls just weren't a top priority for them.
! Pulling a shirt over his head, he waited for his best-friend, as much as that term could be used by straight men, to answer the call. Constant rolling ping of the ringing, cooing pigeons, reminded him of a story he'd been working on called Dial Tone. A romantic novel, revolving around telepathic star-crossed soul-mates, that was based on his and Tara's own relationship from when she'd lived in Texas for a year. Fingering his black earrings, he thought of her, and felt an odd tremor as Talib answered the phone.
! “Yo. Where you been man?” Talib's deep voice sounded even odder over the phone. Perhaps knowing what he looked like, short being the most common factor, he just couldn't take it seriously. May as well have Santa speaking like a Viking.
! “Ahh, you know. Here and there. This world and that…” Would a viking Santa be considered Odin?
! “Yeah, I know what you mean, shit happens. But, umm, Tara's been asking me if I'd talked to you.”
! “No need to sound nervous. Girls ask about their boyfriends. Heavens to murgatroyd! I'd dare say it's expected.” Odin becoming Santa didn't sound too illogical. Post-ragnarok probably didn't offer much use in a 401k. Why couldn't the all seeing man start passing out gifts to children?
! “True, Snagglepuss. But not because they haven't talked to them in three days.”
! “I feel something being implied there. I'm just not certain what.” Kel mouthed a curse nicking himself on the chin with his razor, imagine that being a neck... What if December 25th was Ragnarok.
! “It's not rocket science, Watson. Piece the puzzle together. She's tired of being ignored. You should call her.”
! “I've always hated that phrase… quantum physics is harder, hell calculus is for me. You know the origin of that is football?” Ravens becoming reindeer though? Kel brushed his hair until it looked just presentable enough to not have gotten out of bed.
! “Kel...”
! “Yes, yes, I know. Don't worry, we already have plans today. I'll text her when you hang up.” It'd be a weird twist of fate for Thor to become Rudolph somehow. Mljonir now relegated in myth to a nose. Kel eyed himself in the mirror. Arrogance and disdain clashed.
! “I don't think you're getting my point.” Talib sighed. “I've tried helping from your side to, you know. Telling her to pick up a hobby and stuff. You're a great couple, soulmates if you ask me. Never seen either of you happier.”
! “I've never been happier, Talib. So much as happiness happens for me, or matters in the long run of life.”
! “I agree, humans apply to much relevance to it as an end. Doesn't mean I want to see you two... end.” The word came out as if dragged.
! Kel had to clutch against the side of the sink to balance himself against the tremor. Head down, he stared at the 808's and Heartbreak cover on his chest. A portent coincidence. He really needed to quit smoking. “Yeah... yeah, thanks bro. I.... I understand.” He paused thoughtfully, eying a dark spot on the hardwood floor. He opened his mouth to speak again, but no words came out. There wasn't much more he could think to say, for a wonder, Kel Montgomery was at a lost for words. “Err, well, I'll call you later. Have a fun time with Dizzy... or Hillz... or whoever.”
! “Yeah, you have a fun time too. Try not to be too... aggressive about it. Wanting to talk a lot is kind of a sign of love.” Talib hesitated. Kel wondered if he was thinking that no girl would want to be his date, he could be oblivious to the love of women around him. “Ehh, whatever. Talk later. Peace.”
! Walking outside the door, Kel hopped in his car and almost bit his tongue glancing at the clock and text Tara. [I'm up now, sorry. You can come over whenever you're ready. I made Mexican food, though my house is no Jianmo's, so not overpriced haha. See ya soon, happy Feb 14[SUP]th Waffle.] Parsing over the message for errors, he drove to the gas station, cursed a guy who cut him off, bought a black, drove back home, lit the black, burned a finger, and waited.
! Glancing at the clock, 11:59, he had woken up late but Tara didn't have to take that long, he opened the door for Tara. An angel on his doorstep. As beautiful as ever. A succubus at his doorstep couldn't have managed to get his heart racing more. Dressed in shear rose decorated stockings, tight fitted miniskirt, and ample cleavage exposing shirt she was an epitome of sexuality. Tara was the type of girl who'd mix thrift shop with boutique, Forever 21 with Michael Kors, Armani bags to baby doll shoes, and she'd always pull it off. She looked furious.
! “Where have you been?” She had barely gotten her coat off, slamming down onto the black leather couch with a slap.
! “Umm, participating in REM, as I said. Or, on Earth, in a general sense.” He threw her coat over a chair.
! “Don't play those games with me Kel, not today, please.” Pleading didn't fit the anger mingled in that tone.
! “No games. Just statement of fact. Directly answering your question really…” He smiled, setting her purse gently on the coffee table.
! Tara leered back. “You haven't called me in three days Kel! Three! What if something had happened to me? How was I supposed to know if something had happened to you?”
! Kel rubbed his chin thoughtfully, the spot on his finger from where his lighter had sparked too high felt odd against the cut on his chin. “I'm sorry Tara, really. You should know by now you don't deserve to be treated like this. You should be with someone… more grounded.”
! Tara looked... open mouth, bulging, tiny eyes... Kel guessed abashed, more furious a runner up. “Don't be ridiculous!” Abashed won out. “I'm not mad, not really anyway. I love you Kel, more than anyone I've ever loved. No one has ever made me feel... like you do.”
! Frowning, Kel sat next to her with a whoosh on the couch. The mood of his home barely registered at all. Stares didn't bother him here, except seared stares of family who found him a black sheep. People who considered his views wrong and ill-informed by a youth of only twenty years. Relatives who praised intelligence one day, yet berated ideas from that same intelligence the next. Aunts that eyed him like an alien, uncles that avoided non-sport and beer loving males, grandmothers who couldn't exactly deal with religious differences. Mothers who laughed at incomplete stories as the least of their problems. Fathers who were idoled and nightmared about.
! Wrapping an arm around Tara, all of that was a low muted buzz. Deep in the vague memories of what life not in her presence was like. She was a rock... stability... yet also moving plates that caused Earthquakes, and loose soil of quicksand. A slight tremor shook his body, Tara reached for a blanket. Tara reached up with her own lips to his. Kel savored it. Kel pulled back.
! “Tara...” He searched for something to say. A random fact? Story idea? Poem? Song? Humorous soliloquy? For some reason, his mind avoided resolving the conversation. A slight tremor. Kel blamed the blood rushing from his head on all accounts.
! “Don't worry baby, everything’s going to be all right.” Tara's hands found their way onto his lap. Linen basketball shorts proved to have been a disastrous idea for more than the bitter mid-February winds. Then again, heat spread through them as easily.
! “Turn off the lights.” Kel gave in.
! Tara liked the lights on. Kel had generally done it with them off, and just assumed that was how it was done. They kept the lights on. Tara had little experience, minus a few accounts she rated as “like Hiroshima to my tiny, classical Asian vagina.” Kel had much experience. Gathered from what he considered mostly mishaps, ranging from age 14 in the bushes, to a “lucky streak” at Wayne State. Her number was one. His number was rather more. She bragged about hers with pride. He bragged about his among certain people. Tara ignored, religiously, his number.
! “Yes, daddy. Spank me!” Tara moaned. Kel had a fear of taking control, based on predisposition. He'd only ever seen one scene involved Monica Belluci. Tara liked when guys took control. Her favorite porn star was Lily Thai. Kel obliged. A smacking sound filled the room. Among other sounds of suckling, licking, sucking, squelching. Time passed.
! “Okay! Okay! I'm... I'm tired.” Tara whimpered, pushing Kel off of her. For her to not be a smoker, she had terrible stamina in the bedroom. He said as such.
! “For you to not smoke, you really have terrible stamina among the sheets, Harley.”
! “Ohh, I know Mr. Jay, but your punchlines just take too long to come. And all your witty puns to build up make me laugh too much.” She said in what she considered her “sexy voice”. A school girl would probably be the best comparison. Innocent, high pitched. Submissive.
! “Sorry, Harley. Do you mind if I finish the punchline to myself?” He said in what she considered his “sexy voice”. A baritone singer would analogize the closest. Deep, reverberating. Relaxed, low pitched. Dominant.
! “No problem. Don't try the face again.” Kel laughed to himself. Tara wiped a towel across her chest. They lay side by side for a moment, exposed to each other. Tara sat on the floor complaining of soreness. Kel stood, blaming her for starting it all. He told her to get dressed. She obliged.
! They dressed facing each other. He held out lace for her to hope into, she pulled up cotton. She tied shorts, he zipped the back of miniskirts. They both pulled down shirts. Together, they say on the couch. The joke over, the amtrak of his mind came roaring back to life.
! “Tara...” He began.
! “I already know what you're about to say. Don't.” Tara fumed. “You can be selfish, arrogant, rude and oblivious to the world.” Kel shifted his feet, opened his mouth. She cut him off. “But you're also intelligent, sexy, and the only person I can ever be myself around.”
! “Thanks, now I can option that biopic of the Cassanova Serial Killer.” Tara laughed.
! “See, Kel? Even when I'm angry you know just how to make me laugh. Even when I cry.” Kel sighed. “Stop trying to think of this logically. There's no book or scientific equation to tell you how I feel right now. Just...” Tara... flickered? “Just let it end...” That expression sent Kel's mind whirring. Weariness? Tara stared at the floor. Kel looked towards the ceiling. Tremors wracked his body. His phone rang.
! Cause after all... you're my wonder wall Odd, wasn't that ringtone only for Tara?
! “I'm leaving Kel.” Tara stood. Kel ignored the phone, no time for anomalies in his mind. Well, there were, but he'd get to those puzzles lately. He had a living one to sort out first. Tara made a step to the door, Kel rushed her with a hugged. She struggled to pull free. She struggled to hold on. He fought to hold on. He fought to let go.
! Darkness overcame all. Tara felt soft in his arms. Legs became dancing jelly. He felt the hard wooden floors slap against his head. In the distance, he heard the ringtone still playing.
! Just maybe... you're going to be the one who saves me...
! Chapter 360
! Shivering, Kel pulled the blanket closer over him and Tara. Sitting on his couch, cuddled up together for a movie, it felt like whatever an Atheist would consider Heaven. Nirvana or Oasis might fit quite appropriately, but Smells like Teen Spirit would be hard to reference and Wonderwall was too easy, besides some chances to shout your religion just never came twice. Heaven, Oasis, or Nirvana, Kel didn't care much about what it was called. In fact, this moment felt better than all three. A perfect Valentine's.
! Glancing at the clock, he noticed the time. Midnight. Tara would have to go soon… where? … Home. Yes, home. Tara had a curfew. He wished she didn't have to leave. He wished she would never leave. He wished his camera, bought as a Christmas gift for an ill-advised photography fad, would become animate and lock him in a picture of this moment forever. Native American mythology tried to wriggle in his mind, finding no purchase in the solid foundation of Tara thoughts. In her presence, the amtrak that was his mind applied breaks.
! “Kel...” Tara said, looking away from Sleepless in Seattle. He looked down at his nirvana's origin.
! “What's the story morning glory?” The wonder wall of his life was so beautiful, he wished this moment of Oasis would stop the clocks. For various reasons, pride roared in his often lonely heart like a lion.
! “I'm glad you called me when Talib told you too.”
! “Me to Waffle. For some reason my alarm didn't go off when it was supposed to, glad he reminded me what day it was.”
! Tara nodded absently. “I'm sorry for yelling at you about not calling.”
! “Don't worry about it baby. It was my fault. Getting lost in books again...”
! “No need to apologize for that. I love your writing, I love how passionate you are about it... I... I love you.” The smile faded. A curious blank expression replaced it. Kel's moment of bliss trembled, his body did the same.
! “I love you too.” He smiled warily, spoke cautiously. The tremors seemed a bit stronger than he remembered. Remembered? Had this happened before... The expression on her face finally dawned on him. Hardly recognizable behind that mask of beauty and mirth. It was pain. Deep, Freudian theorized, repressed pain. The moment was gone. He really wished that camera would've just taken a damn time freezing picture...
! “I... I have to go.” Tara pushed off the blanket. The low collar of his plain gray v-neck shirt suddenly seemed quite tight. He felt a pressure in his heart. Tara leaving like this... like this... would make it explode.
! “Wh...where?” His voice wavered.
! She looked so sad. Had he ever seen her look that sad? “I'm breaking u-” Tara... flickered? The pressure built. He trembled like an earthquake. “I'm breaking my curfew staying out so late. Even if it Valentine's, my mom... she wouldn't like me staying anymore. I can't stay any longer.” She'd never been concerned about curfew before, normally he was the one who had to keep up with that. She couldn't stay any longer? Memory jerked his mind.
! He tried to think of everything he'd ever did wrong. The day her stepfather was in a coma and he'd suggested an alarm clock as a remedy. Maybe the apathetic responses he fought to add empathy to when she was sad. Or the constant void of loneliness she complained about when he fell off into a fantasy world. The list was endless. Tears that wouldn't fall, that never formed, were wiped away. On screen, Sleepless and Seattle showed the credits. The end.
! He turned to to catch her. “I lov-” The room flickered.
! He turned to catch her. “Please st-” The room flickered.
! Leaping, he turned to catch her. Feet planted, she waited. “Some people are just meant to be alone. Whether it's their choice or not.” Tara turned away. The room flickered.
! He turned to say something, anything, but she was already on her way out the door. He heard a car starting in the distance. His phone rung underneath the thick comforter that now seemed to taunt him. Tossing it aside, he wondering at that ringtone. He held the phone, letting the song wash over him. But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo... What the hell am I doing here? Seeing Tara's name on the beaten up, model unknown screen, he mentally rejoiced, physically his face was expressionless. Internally, he felt a moment of triumph, but listening to the song... Physically, he pressed end.
! Darkness consumed him....
! Chapter 1
! “Hello? ...Hello? Kel, are you there?” Groggily Kel picked himself up from the hard wood floor. Cursing at the pile of shirts he'd tripped over, Kel snatched up the phone.
! “Yeah, I'm here...” He rubbed his head. That fall had given him a splitting headache.
! “Oh, okay.” Said the voice on the other end. “I'm sor-”
! “Don't worry. It's better this way...” He clutched his heart. The pressure had lowered a bit. Acceptance wouldn't come easy, but he'd dealt with this before. He'd had women leave, family die, and chances ruined, all barely bought those invisible tears.
! “Goodbye...” Monotonous voice that he tried so hard to put emotion to, trailed off. His finger hovering... he pressed end. He noted the time... still six o'clock. He felt like he'd been on the floor for hours...
! Sitting down at his desk, Kel opened his notebook. Expressing emotions was difficult for him sometimes, and writing it out was how he did it. He pressed play on his speakers. As his pen ran across the paper, he stared down curiously at a smudged ink mark. Wiping away tears that wouldn't fall, that would never form, he pulled back a moist hand. Barely wet at all. The song from his speakers filled the room. Kel sang along.
! When you were here before… Couldn't look you in the eye...
! You're just like an angel… Your skin makes me cry...
You float like a feather... In a beautiful world...
I wish I was special. You're so fucking special. But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo… What the hell am I doing here?
…_.I don't belong here_
! Kel fingered his black earrings, a gift from Valentines last year that he'd loved upon receiving. He glanced at his watch.
! 6:01.
! Beep Beep Beep
! His alarm clock rang on his phone.
That's the end, hope it wasn't too long and you guys enjoyed it. Criticisms/comments are appreciated.