And we moved a step closer

I slammed the door behind me, and started walking to the bus stop. I was angry but I was crying. It’s not like I felt weak or cranky, I just felt angry about feeling hurt. I boarded the next bus to downtown. I was happy about the long journey that I’d get to calm myself down. Through the constant sniffing and sobbing, I tried to sort my emotions and recall everything that happened. Right from him coming home, cooking for me, and standing in the balcony when his best friend Chris shouted about their last night’s party; last night when he was working his ass off apparently. And then I thought of everything after me walking in- questioning him about what he did and why he lied; I wasn't going to stop him or accompany him anyway! And he called me a cold girlfriend, someone who barely cared or showed love. All the words kept hitting rewind in my head and I tried ignoring the people staring at me as I cried. When I reached English Bay, I got off the bus, took an ice cream in the cold winter breeze and placed myself on the soft and moist sand. The frost under me melted.

While I sat there, now crying less and feeling calmer, a familiar voice called out, “You’re gonna catch a cold red nose Rudolf!” What was Sam doing here?

“Sometimes it’s worth, I don’t care anyway..”

“Woah woah! That wrath my pretty face? If I was nice enough I’d make you some kind of soup.”

“Yeah, please don’t though. I’m kind of in the mood of smashing any fragile object.”

“Wowie! Is it the same heartbreaking jerk again?” I turned away at his question. He insisted, “So what did he do?”

“Told me he loves me.”

“Okay. I get it. You don’t wanna talk. Look at the stars! Want me to sing you a lullaby? You know..”

“Geez Sam shut up.” He did as I asked him to. Then I said again, “I used to have glow stars in my old home. They were decorated all across my ceiling.”

“And the point is?”

“Nothing. I liked that. Right now I have a bedroom with popcorn ceilings and it’s really annoying.”

“I have a room that is cluttered with things. Mostly from my girlfriend, but they’re cute.”

“My ideal room would be as minimal furniture as possible. The bed would either on the floor or very prettily somehow incorporated in the wall; but not the folding ones. And lots of wall art- maps, murals, frames, paintings, shelves! Actually I always wanted a world map as one entire wall. Or the entire room as charcoal art in black white n brown. And lights! Like cute little lamps everywhere. Or Christmas lights, just prettier and not multicoloured. And this all in a tiny loft apartment somewhere in heart of some huge city. Oh and a flower vase, as much as I hate flowers! And bean bags because I miss those things the most.”

“Wasn't that just a description of your old home?”

“It kinda was. Why?”

“Because you moved from there to live with someone who is going to be the reason behind your cold. Because seriously eating an ice cream right now isn’t wise.”

“Because I ,ummm ya because I love him. And so we moved, together.”

“Awww how romantic.” He said sarcastically.

“Shut up.”

“Okay hothead. Why world maps? They give an idea of how tiny you are on this planet”

“Yep, that's what I love! It’s like when the world is so big I have no reason to be stuck in one place attached to one set of things.”

“Okay. Have fun. I’ll stick to my world of computers and a job that’s sucks.”

“That’s just too bad for you. Does it make me abnormal if I always wanna be moving around and not stay at home? And definitely not near technology, but I still find tech utterly interesting.”

“That’s the thing about me too. I do enough camping to get away from tech, and still spend enough time around tech”

“Yeah you’re lucky. I want to camp too but at the same time I wanna go around places.

I don't like people but I love strangers. A world where I'm nobody and nobody is everyone to me. Like another face in the crowd, someone whose presence goes unnoticed but is always felt. I either want to be an introvert hiding away in some tiny village or be an active nobody in an extremely fast moving city. It’s as if the in between is annoying."

“I'm okay with my lifestyle; holed away for most of the time, I have a beautiful companion to life who has rejected marrying me thrice but yet I love her undauntedly, and then camping every so often by myself or with family.”

“That hypocrisy! You are the one usually whining about camping with your family and not getting along with the differences between you and Anya.”

“Fine! I would rather go camp independently all by myself than with them. But as for Anya, I love her no matter what. Maybe I should involve her in my activities every so often eh?”

“Umhm..”

“Now what? Unless you feel like imagining more perfect lifestyles, talk about something.”

“I feel like on an especial emotional roller coaster from happy to dreamy to numb to upset to angry to pensive. All of this in just the last 40 minutes.”

“I better not have anything to do with it. Guys messing with a girl’s emotions aren't fun”

“No, guys are too lame to be worth a girl's emotions.”

“Ouch!”

“Bitter truths.”

“I'm okay with that. Less girl problems” 

“That'd be a boon for you now and in the future.”

“What? That I'm too lame for a girl’s emotion? Therefore I go unnoticed and thought of as non-social”

“No, not caring about not being cared about is pretty good. It creates less emotional issues.”

“Less issues in general”

“Yes. And by guys being lame I mean most issues a girl has that is related to guys are lame or petty and so not worth it. Of course, if only all girls understood that right?”

“If only! But no, because drama is fun! So still ruing about loving him?”

“I don’t know Sam. Maybe he doesn't feel the same anymore.”

“Better to have loved and lost than never loved at all?”

“I'm the paradox on that one. Better to have loved some people and never been loved back than to lose them n be loved by another person you could never love back”

“That’s more heartbreaking”

“It’s basically finding a way to live life happily without expecting much from others. And no, it’s just, you know, living one's own life and finding one's own happiness. It is quite indeed possible to be in love without being loved back and still remain happy.”

“Yeah maybe, if you are okay with the awkwardness of thinking about that every time you are near the person. Basically what I did around you for a long time.” He said and pushed an arm around my shoulder. I was still thinking about our fight but moved into his warm embrace. 

“Ya or that too. Makes me feel pathetic of how I never did that around you. As much as I feel for you, I just somehow seemed to be normal no matter what. Like I'd already not expected things to be any different”

“Well, that’s because you never thought I would love you back. What you said earlier- don’t expect anything from others.”

“I guess, but that then I feel is a part of me being selfish; like a mortal flaw. Just because I wouldn't wanna care about some people I'd spend a lifetime not expecting anyone to care for me. Like I did to you today. And then blamed you for calling for calling me cold.”

“Umhm..”

“Hey guess what? I finally talked myself into discovering moral flaw number one. Now I know what to do! Actually no, it’s number 1.5. After the forgetting things and our anniversaries you know!”

“Yes I was just about to mention that. And, and I'm sorry about the evening Anya. I wish I wasn't so harsh. I wish I could explain everything I do. Just like you, I feel so vulnerable, so unstable. Will you still marry me some day when you finally feel pity for me trying and being rejected over and over again?”

I laughed and said, “I will think of that. And ya, I wish I wasn’t so petty.”

“Yeah me too.” At that I pushed him away saying, “Geez why do I even live with you!?”

“Because I’m hot?” I scowled. “Okay because I’ll always be your best-friend first. The Sam you knew before you left your perfect little life. And I promise I will make it worth. I love you and always will! We will move away from this small town and travel the world! But for now you will have to do with a map. Is that okay?”

“Yeah I can make do. And soup. I will need map and soup if you want me to come home.”

“Map and soup it is! Let’s go now!”

And at that he slipped his hand into mine and pulled me to my feet. We moved a step closer to accepting each other with all our flaws. Sometimes, some things are just solved that way. You end up wondering what the conflict was and who was at fault but then you realize none of it matters. It’s the nature of love to accept people, but it’s the nature of friendship to evolve people. And I am lucky to have both in one person.

Few Words

Let's say this one just popped out of the blue. It's the general issue in the world these days, when  couples find it hard to be best friends. And for those who prefer staying single and amazing, it's hard to be best friends with someone who has an overly attached significant other. The love is never missing, it's the emotion that people usually miss out. And for that, we all need a friend sometimes more than sorry texts and gifts. All it takes sometimes is the calm to talk and ice cream! 

One Day in June- Final Part four

For the whole and final part in the One Day in June series! :) Make sure you check out part 1:
http://peablogsat.blogspot.ca/2014/03/one-day-in-june.html
Part 2:
http://peablogsat.blogspot.ca/2014/03/one-day-in-june-part-two.html
And Part 3:
http://peablogsat.blogspot.ca/2014/03/one-day-in-june-part-three.html



Part 4
November 29, 1996. 15:30 hours.
The entire month had passed by working at Costo. June worked as a mechanic and earned way more than I did. But together we made enough money to make a trip. Today I was finally going to introduce June as my girlfriend to my family. She looked stunning in a pretty little coat and white dress. Her curls were nourished today and her hands cleaned off the grease and black nail paint. However there was something odd; the way my dad examined June was weird. After I left June to her home that night, dad was still awake reading. As I walked past he asked me to stop and said, “What is it with you and that girl son?”I coolly replied, “She’s my girlfriend. What else?” My dad asked me to sit and said, “It has been a small world Dagur. Everyone knows about Lynn Caine and her family lives with her mark over their head. Her father worked with our company for all the years Lynn had been in High school. They then moved to Arizona when people found out about Lynn. And now as we know, she is not here. As if she never existed. And from what I can tell you guys ain’t any normal couple,” I almost felt like should hug him and cry and say everything. But that is not what sons did with dads. So I skipped the weepin ‘n’ huggin and simple told him everything. He sighed and said, “Do you know a university there?” At that I couldn’t help a smile escape my face and hugged my dad and kissed him goodnight. “Being a smarter son, kiddo!” He said as he slept. I loved my family. I loved June too. 

December 14,1996. 17:30 hours.
Dad was going to meet June’s parents today to ask if June could join us for Christmas this year for a family trip to Hawaii. June said she had saved up for it. Truth was it wasn’t a “family” trip to the warm and beautiful Hawaii but just Dad, June and I flying over to Vancouver for Christmas. Her parents agreed a little too soon making me think of how easily they had let go off Lynn too. That night the three of us celebrated with beer and dad said this never happened. The next few days went planning and mapping and finding a good hotel. Once we hit Vancouver we didn’t wanna waste a single minute.

December 24,1996. 14:20 hours. 
June, Dad and I sat in the little café by a snow clad park. We had seen and met Lynn on a sidewalk 4 times and each time she refused to acknowledge June. It was Christmas Eve and June wouldn’t go back without meeting Lynn one last time. June and I examined the broken tile of that table we sat on and thought of how we could hide secret messages in there if we were detectives. At night we returned to our hotel where dad and I shared a bed and June used the couch. June still refused to share a bed with me even with my dad in the room. Fair enough! That night I noticed June slip on her furry coat and snow boots. When I asked her where she was going, she said to Lynn- at 11 pm in the night. She left me no choice but to go along. 

December 24, 1996. 23:00 hours. 
Just like expected, Lynn was covered up in a blanket and sat outside a church in downtown. Right next to the little café we spent the evening in. June had “timbits”, hot chocolate and sandwiches for each of us. She went up to Lynn who was furious this time. “Lynn why don’t you just talk to me! I am your sister” screamed June as Lynn started walking away. Lynn replied, “It’s just coincidence. Go away.” June had started crying and I held her tight. She then fell apart from my arms and said, “Do you think it's just a coincidence that you look exactly as you do? Do you think your height, the color of your eyes, or the sound of your voice was an accident? Do you think your insights into life, your gifts of perception, or your sense of humor were the result of random genetics? No. You are exactly as you now are, with every freckle, trait, and charm, because they all added up to how you could make the biggest difference with your life in time and space. I love you Lynn.” At this Lynn came to June as if she was going to kill her. She caught Lynn by her shoulders and shook her out and said, “It’s not a good world June! Go home. And never trust a guy” she said looking at me. I felt deeply offended at that and hated Lynn, but I decided to save my ego for later. At that Lynn turned away again. Finally June shouted, “April is in an Orphanage somewhere in Canada!” Lynn eyes went lifeless at that. “How? Rachael..” fumbled Lynn. “She left April Lynn. Somewhere in this huge country! Lynn one mistake in your life shouldn’t ruin everything. She is your goddamn daughter Lynn. I’m your sister, she is your aunt! You need to stop running away from us like that!” At that she froze. And slowly spread out her arms for June to hug her. I felt a tear run down my cheek. I loved that feeling. At midnight we sat along Second Beach and ate our food, giving away all our food to Lynn and June and I only had hot chocolate. They talked about everything then. The next day Dad met Lynn and we all chipped in money for Lynn to rent an apartment. We promised we’d come back. I went home for the New Year feeling a little mature already.

January 15, 1997.
The New Year came in with graduation formalities, photos and scholarships. We prepared for exams and tests. Everyone worried of prom and June worried of Lynn. June had been sending her money each month saying her parents were rich enough to save up for their “only daughter’s University”. 

March 21, 1997. 16:37 hours.
June was screaming on the other side of the phone. She had been accepted into UVic for psychology. We celebrated by driving along downtown and eating ice cream by the Peak. Tonight we talked about making it without each other if I didn’t get into UBC. Even with my straight A’s and honours it would be pretty difficult. And then she fell asleep in my lap on the sand. I decide to cuddle her like another homeless and embrace the warm March air. None of our parents asked much about our whereabouts that morning and I was glad. Dad wouldn’t believe me anyway. 

May 16, 1997. 
June and I dressed up for Prom where we spent an ordinary night with the ordinary folks who seemed to hate us. We did not hesitate to display affection for one another. June wore a tiny black- yes I said tiny- prom dress. I tried not being horny, but told her she was looking hot at one point in the night and she said, “That’s why I try not to, pervert.” We skipped the after party and instead had hot chocolate at her home. We were in her silent living room when I finally decided to tell her. I removed the letter from my coat pocket and placed it before her. She immediately knew what it was and at that jumped into my arms laughing in joy. She embraced my UBC acceptance letter like it was gold. She read it over and over until she had memorized each word! She kissed me a few several times too, something I hadn’t expected her to do in that tiny little dress. But each time I even touched her she hit me, Girls are messed up. We spent the night, (by which I mean the time after 3am) on her couch watching Sunday’s at Tiffany’s and falling asleep in our prom costumes. I still slept on the floor and not next to her. 

May 28,1997. 14:00 hours. 
Graduation Day. June looked stunning even in an oversized robe and hat. People made their usual speeches and June and I caught hands throughout until they were sweaty. We clicked our pictures and showed off our diplomas. Most people exchanged contacts and cried. June and I sat with our parents feasting on salads. And then we went home. I couldn’t believe June and I both were graduates and we’d soon move to Canada! At 6pm I called her home and her mom picked up. I could tell she was crying. She asked, “Dagur is that you? Do you know where June is?” I knew exactly where she was. How could I not know she was going to run away? All the nights she spent hinting me. Her parents didn’t know about UVic. She wouldn’t have told them. They would never let her go even close to Lynn. I couldn’t spoil it for her. “No. Is anything wrong?” I answered calmly. In my mind I knew I’d find her. The next few days they tried searching for her but had no recent picture to submit to the police. She had taken them all with her. As for me I said I had none. That summer I moved to UBC and tried going to Lynn’s apartment. She didn’t live there anymore. UVic wouldn’t give me any information about its students. I spent the next few days looking for signs and seeing her face on every person on the street. She might have even been in Iceland being the happiest person on Earth. Did she and Lynn live together? Did she find April? I kept checking orphanages for any signs and left my data in that little cracked tile of our café in the hope that she’d come one day. 

June 3, 2012. 18:00 hours.
Today none of notes remained in the tile. And it was instead replaced with one long letter. I immediately knew I had a visitor. It was from June. She wrote, “Dear Dagur. Your notes helped. Attached you will find a picture of Lynn and Me with now a teenager April. But I’m still looking for something. It’s the courage of facing you. I know you said fear just means you've forgotten how deeply you're loved, how safe you are, and that happiness will return, like you've never known it before. How funny is it that we spoke such deep philosophy without even knowing life? I tried imagining this over and over again. Thinking about you and me together again. And about how mad you could be when we first meet. But I only ended up with beautiful images of me in a nine inch nail concert and you keeping me warn when I pretended to fall asleep in your lap that night! And it was really good. When it comes to effecting change (big or little, but especially big), manifesting the life of your dreams, or getting that perfect parking space, "thinking" is immeasurably more valuable when used to imagine what you want - the end result - than to figure out how you're going to get it. Which is why most people have to schlep through big parking lots. But my point is, when you stop and reflect that thoughts become things, unconditionally, without exception, no matter what, no matter who's, you know it’s someone worth you‘re thinking of. I have found a way I will overcome this fear. Let’s be happiest people on Earth and reunite where we started. Be my “Day” Dagur!” With it was a picture of my now mature June and a CD that read, “This is not a mix.” It wasn’t one, because it held just one song; Do You Remember by Jack Johnson. That’s when one day in June I knew I was up for another adventure; I knew I was going back to the Peak, where we started. And then be hairdressers in Iceland for the rest of our socially weird life. 




Few Words:
At the end of this one, I do really have barely a few words to explain my experience. As a Vancouverite I’ve always been affected by the high homeless rates in this town, the stories of teen issues and increasing counselor help. To me, this story was beyond just an unforgettable high school love. It was a symbol of embracing reality and still moving on. :)

P.S- Do You Remember by Jack Johnson is a jewel of a song and fits just right with the story! :) 
Thankyou, 102.7 The Peak! My favourite radio station where I heard talk shows about long lost twins, Finnish horses and icelandic hairdressers! :) 

One Day in June- Part three

And the little late Part 3!

Still not sure? Check out the links to Part 1:       

http://peablogsat.blogspot.ca/2014/03/one-day-in-june.html

And Part 2:

http://peablogsat.blogspot.ca/2014/03/one-day-in-june-part-two.html

Happy reading!

Part 3

Monday September 30, 1996. 08:00 hours.

June wasn’t there in the bus today. That’s it I thought. She wasn’t ever going to trust someone again. I lost the only friend I genuinely had liked in all my years of high school. Then I lied to Steve about our date to the movies. I also added that she was hilarious, beautiful and a great person; I said that because I meant it and not just because I didn’t want karma to bite me. Steve obviously said he wouldn’t believe me.

Monday September 30, 1996. 01:00 hours.

Something happened!

I was sitting at my lunch table with Steve and his punks when I spotted June. She caught my eyes and then started walking towards me. Steve turned to see who I was looking at and whistled when he saw June. The entire cafeteria turned as June walked. I felt compelled to get my -now shaking- ass off the seat and she stopped an inch away from me. She then smiled like three year old kid and moved in and kissed me like a young and wild 21 year old Victoria Secret angel, “Hey baby I missed you”, she chimed. “See you after school.” She said and left. Just like that. I remained there speechless. I couldn’t even hear all the hooting and table banging around me. I ran out after her. “What the hell was that for?” I shouted after her, still rubbing the red lipstick off my lips. “I don’t like talking to that low-life jerk. This must have proved enough. Plus you moved in for the kiss on Friday.” She said, moving further down the hallway. “Friday was different June! “ She narrowed her cold eyes at me and then threw those multiple arrows by saying, “What was different? It was a pretty little girl in a pretty little dress that lured you? Oh no! But Dagur Campbell is better than that. He just felt for this poor ordinary soul having a great time. It was church service wasn’t it? But what a tragedy that she is a social monster! And that is why Friday was different because Mr. Campbell here was not under the pressure of his status. Possibly why he even enjoyed that night and thought of kissing June. But once it’s school it’s all different. Sadly you know what Dagur? To me it’s all the same and I feel no need to fall under the influence of you and you petty circle. And if you feel embarrassed of kissing me in front of a judgmental crowd, that’s too bad. “ I hated it when she said too bad. I hated it even more when she was right. I still was a stubborn little jerk and said, “I am not embarrassed. I’m just taken aback. You didn’t even wanna kiss me that night!” June avoided my question in her typical way by saying, “I changed my mind.” At that I literally saw karma looking at me like, “What an ass” and preparing its finest bow to kill me instantly. I started walking after her. “Go away.” She said. “Nope”. “Ughh fine then keep walking but don’t expect me to be nice.” And so it was. The next few days went into pretending to be her boyfriend and being mentally scarred by her when we were alone. The days after that were when it was finally official that I was a social outcast too.

October 23, 1996. 18:00 hours.

Today June laughed at my joke. As much as she hated it, she spent her days with me past 2 weeks. Most people had forgotten about the kiss, most people but June who would still occasionally taunt me by saying, “I’ll kiss you in a room full of people if you don’t stop talking.” I talked more when she said that until one day when she threw a textbook at me. I loved her even with my bruises. We were at her home when I said, “So are you my girlfriend then?” “No.” she answered.

“But people still think so.”

“Yeah. They’re people so duh! Not like I care.”

“What if I asked you out for real this time?”

“I’d kick you out of my home after stealing all your notes and homework.”

“Even if I bought you tickets to the nine inch nails concert?” She squealed at that. And then hugged me dropping me off the kitchen stool. My relationship with June was difficult to explain. It was like we were stuck with each other and still couldn’t do without one another. It was not like you would love your significant other, or like you would adore your sister, or even like you would admire your mother. It was just June being the bitch she was and me still hopelessly finding a confidante in her. That day when I went home and called her, she said she missed me. I liked that.

November 1,1996. 17:00 hours.

I picked June up for the concert. She wore no dress today and I wore no tux. We were dressed like normal fans for once. She also gave me a CD that she refused calling a mix. That night she held my hand at the concert. And dug her nails so deep that my knuckles bled when Trent Razor winked at her and lowered the mike to ask her name. He then sung a rhyme to her and called me a lucky young man. She was the star of the show. At the last song June kissed me again and I hugged her. My heart was racing and it was not because of the drums.

November 1, 1996. 22:00 hours

“Runaway with me, Dagur” she said outside her home. I laughed and said, “Sure babe. Let’s leave tonight.” She just looked at me resting her head on the seat. I pushed back her curly sweaty hair and said, “What? You have spaced out again.” “I need to save my sister.” She said. “Okay. From what though?” That’s when I realized she had never told me about her sister. When I remembered her mom had said June was their only child. “June..” I began saying when she said,

“My parents had disowned her at sixteen. She is five years elder to me. Her abusive boyfriend had got her pregnant at sixteen and ever since my parents asked her to leave. I thought she had left to live with our aunt Rachael who lives 200 miles away in a remote forest. Last Christmas I heard mom and dad talk to aunt Rachael about how Lynn ran away, leaving April, her daughter behind. Aunt Rachael then left April in an orphanage somewhere in Canada. I know it’s crazy but I will find Lynn there. Last year my family lived in Vancouver, not Finland or Mexico Dagur. I swear I saw Lynn there. She was miserable in the streets. Relying on salvation army camps for Christmas! When I told my parents they asked me to consider Lynn dead and I would be the same if I tried revolting. I threatened them to be a freak, a crazy emo kid until they got Lynn back. I started waiting outside where I saw her almost each day in the pouring rain. That’s when my parents moved again. But now, it’s not just Lynn Dagur. It’s April too. And I need to find them.”

I wanted to say something but I was dumbfounded. I wanted to dig my grave and ask June to fill it with unicorn shit than mud. “You swear you are not lying?” “I swear upon every god I know Dagur. I have proof of Lynn being one of us! I have been working all days of the week past a year to earn up for tickets. I also applied in several colleges in BC! You need to understand!”

That’s when I understood everything. All the balls and bingos were June sneaking out to work. It was her proving that she’d be a perfect daughter and win trust that she could not only bring Lynn back but also take care of April. By now her pretty little face was soaking wet and her eyelashes were drenched. The black mascara soiled her rosy cheeks and red nose as she wiped those tears away. I ran my head along her head and said, “Go to sleep. We will find them”. She opened the car door and got down saying, “I will Dagur. I will find them; you will just have to be patient.” At that she ran in without looking back today.

Part 4 coming up soon! I promise the final one this time! Keep commenting! :)

One Day in June- Part two

Hey guys! So here is Part 2! For those of you who are wondering Part 2 to what, make sure you check out the first part. Here’s the link and happy reading!

http://peablogsat.blogspot.ca/2014/03/one-day-in-june.html

Part 2

September 24, 1996. 08:00 hours.

Ghost Girl, I mean Alice, I mean June! Yes, June walked in. She sat down and said, “Where is the Peak?” I was shocked she was even considering my offer about the music carnival. Steve poked me in my back. That eavesdropping jerk! “It’s a beach downtown. There are ice cream stores there!” She chirpily giggled and asked, “Have you gone there before?” I had, just once and that too with my annoying and bossy brother Matt. “Yes, last year. It seemed like the only thing that ever happened in this ghost town. Other than the ‘Friday night senior’s ball and bingo’ at the community centres of course! Steve never misses those out”, I said as I winked at Steve. She laughed at that; in a more friendly way today. However you could tell she was thinking deeply about something. I decided to make a move. “You wanna go with? I really do not want my brother’s company again this year. I could take you along. He would feel, umm, you know what I mean?” She looked at me puzzled at this before saying, “You are going to make your brother believe that you have a girlfriend to go with you, so he wouldn’t tag along?” “Umhm”, I said coyly. Maybe I had taken things too fast and too far! Damn, she’d never speak to me again. “Ok.”, she said. Okay? Did she really like me now just because I gave her a penny worth of attention? She didn’t seem like that kind though. Say something! She’s waiting! “Okay then. Sounds like a plan. I’ll pick you up at five.” “I, well never mind I’ll talk to you during Japanese”, she said as she got down. Dear Lord, she knew how to kill a person of suspense!

September 24, 1996. 14:00 Hours.

She walked in and placed her books beside mine. Everyone stared at our desk and I pretended I wasn’t embarrassed. Some people even hooted but immediately stopped the moment she turned her eyes to them. Big Red walked in and said, “Good job there June. I was just going assign this noisy bunch a seating plan, according to your last names.” Random sighs and roars escaped; I was still unsure about how I felt about that. While Big Red moved people around, June said, “I have a condition.” Of course she did! What was I thinking when ghost girl said yes? Maybe she wanted me to be her lab rat and extract my brain cells for further examination. I gulped and asked, “What is it?”

“You have to wear a tux.”

“Are you kidding me? A tuxedo to a rock music carnival!? I was kidding about the Friday Night bingo and ball if you seem to have changed your mind.”

“Fine then, find someone else to go with”, she replied arrogantly. The cold eyes were back.

“But why a tuxedo?”

“I can’t tell you.”

“Okay then, I’m not wearing one.”

“Okay then, I’m not going with you.”

She was one arrogant bleep. I tried weighing the odds; wearing an embarrassing stupid tux versus millions of loser notes and a lifetime of humiliation in my graduating year. She had picked the right scapegoat. After a long moment of silence, I muttered, “Okay. I’ll be there in Tux.” I swear to God it was the wickedest smile I’ve ever seen on any face! I tried reassuring myself everything will be okay since no one from school would be there anyway. I would hope not.

September, 24 1996. 15:00 hours.

“Why is your last name Campbell if you are Asian?” she asked. I was still annoyed with her for the deal. Just one evening, I thought, and it will be all over. “That is a very mean thing to ask when asked so directly.” She rolled her eyes and said, “Dagur Campbell, do you by any chance hold and Asian genes in your biological presence? It’s so weird that you remind me of Jackie Chan! Maybe I’m seeing things. Ha-ha.” That sarcasm stung. I admit I look too obviously Japanese and the only genes from my father are my grey eyes, but I still expected decent sentence tones. “My mom is Japanese.” I said. Then asked her, “What are you even doing in that Japanese class?” She scratched her head and said, “I was sick of watching anime with subtitles.” I tried to hold it in but darn was she cute while saying that? We laughed. That night I thought maybe she is a good person after all. Then I tried to for not even for a minute consider we could have anything, and fell asleep listening to 102.7.

The next few days went by, listening to music with June each morning and talking about her half toothed soft toy. And of course, waiting for Friday. I had to sneak out Matt’s graduation tuxedo and make sure I washed it twice to eradicate it of Matt’s odour. I also found a twenty dollar bill in it which I preferred keeping for myself as compensation for his mere existence. I had a restless Thursday night.

Friday September 27, 1996. 14:50 hours.

“What are you going to be wearing?” I asked June at the lockers. Her evil grin was accompanied by a “You will see.” That made me feel more insecure and wonder if this entire thing was one big joke. Maybe she would just show up in her usual black T-shirts and ‘emo kid’ emotions. I knew I couldn’t throw her off at the last minute either. She had threatened me to let the entire school know we were “dating” if I messed things up. By now she knew already that she wasn’t the most desirable partner, and anyone paired with her basically ended up in the kingdom of the social outcasts. I was stuck. We listened to a talk show about Finnish horses on our way home and she smiled all the way. She looked good that way. (That is when you looked beyond her raccoon eyes!)

Friday September 27, 1996. 15:30 hours.

I reached home and immediately dived into the closet. Mom and Dad had already agreed I could go the Carnival alone and take the car. Matt had also mentioned about my freak girlfriend and now my parents insisted on bringing her home once we were done. I had already decided to lie to them about June’s curfew and get this problem over with. I packed my camera so I could click pictures, but more importantly so that I could prove it to Steve that I took “Alice” out. After I hogged onto a sandwich, I put on a white shirt, black vest and black dress pants. Then pulled on the coat from the tuxedo but decided to leave my hair messy and collar unbuttoned. As I stepped out Matt saw me. “Holy crap Dag! A tux? I thought you and Alice were going to the carnival man!” he said almost immediately,

“Her name is June. And yes we are.”

“Liar why don’t you just tell me you have *ahem* plans. Girls love guys in suits. “he said winking at me. If I did try explaining to Matt about how I hadn’t even kissed a girl, he maybe would make more fun of me. So I stuck with his assumption and said, “Here, it’s twenty dollars. Don’t let ‘em old folks know k?” He happily took away his own money from my hand. I didn’t lose anything, but there went my fuel money.

Friday September 27, 1996. 17:00 hours.

I waited outside June’s home since 10 minutes before 5. I examined my hair and wished it was longer. Then at 5 I walked up to her door and knocked. I was awestruck by the lady at the door; long auburn hair, green eyes and a lean figure- very warm and motherly, unlike “Alice”. “You must be Dagur. Oh how punctual! Come in.” she said, forgetting to introduce herself. She then called out to June who emerged from around the corner. I was in for an evening of surprises. June wore a satin, peacock blue short dress with her hair loosely tied in the same cute bow tie. A black leather bracelet was tied around her wrist and below it she wore black sneakers.Pretty pearls adorned her now visible collarbones. She was adorable. I reminded myself that looks could be deceiving and that all of this could have a motive too. Who I inferred as Mrs. Caine, then said “Thank you for accompanying June to the bingo and ball Dagur. “ Aaahh so that’s what this was. “My pleasure” I replied. As June and I walked to the door Mrs. Caine said, “June has always been keen in things so classic. You look like a stunning young man by the way. I won’t keep you long though. Have fun dear.” She told to June as we walked away linking arms.

The moment we turned around her lawn bush she left my hand and started picking pins out of her hair. “Woah Woah what’s that for?” I asked.“Where is the car? I promise to explain, but we need to leave first.” She said. I held the door open for her and she gave me a cold thank you, like she was forced to say it. Then as I got in, her hair was halfway down already and she ruffled them lose. I hit the pedal and asked her, “You basically are sneaking out? I’m helping you do that? Damn it June! I could be blamed if they find out! They might even think we did all this to you know- hook up or whatever!” I could feel her roll her eyes at that, then she said, “I’ll not let them blame you. And we ARE NOT hooking up.” As a novice driver I still couldn’t take my eyes off the road without hitting an imaginary cow, and so I scowled at her while I looked at the road. When I did finally stop at the traffic lights to look at her, she had transformed. Thick black eyeliner, blood red lipstick and a skull and cross bones necklace that matched her bracelet. The innocence had faded somewhere into her red and peaock blue hair streaks. How had she managed to hide that? Maybe the pins. “Seriously?” I smiled and asked. She stuck her tongue out and asked me to get some spirit. I told her I would if I wasn’t wearing my brother’s tux and helping a girl who looked like a hooker sneak out. She punched me on that one. It hurt but I pretended it didn’t.

Friday September 27, 1996. 18:30 hours

While we waited for the performers at the now crowded beach, June outlined my eyes too in thick black cold liquid. She said it made me look hotter. She also did something to my hair but I wasn’t sure what. I decided to not care; not care about how I maybe was actually enjoying her company. The night went as anticipated. June sang to every song until her throat got dry and we would push through the crowd to get water. When we couldn’t get back to the front we stood dipping our legs into the cool ocean waves and I could somewhat hear her voice now over the loud speakers. She might have kept at least a six feet gap between us. However she occasionally twirled me around or laughed with me. And when at the slow songs all couples danced, she sat on the sandy floor cross legged and just stared at what I thought was nothing. She looked as wild as most other girls here, but she gracefully stole my attention. Her hair was damp of sweat and the temporary colour from them was beginning to fade. That’s when I suddenly remembered of the dare  for the first time in the night. As I put my hand in pocket to get out my camera, June laughed and said, “You won’t find it. It’s in the car. I’ll tell Steve. Consider it as a thank you for bringing me here.” At that I wanted to be ashamed of myself. Suddenly felt it necessary to tell her that it wasn’t like what she thought and I was actually having a good time. Good time with her! Even if it just involved me stealing glances at her rosy cheeks and 3 ear piercings. Instead all I could say was, “Thanks. And I’m sorry. And welcome.” So many words? I obviously wasn’t thinking. She smiled, a real one this time and said, “I wish this was every Friday.” At that she stopped cheering and got up. “Where are you going?” I asked. “The curfew. I have to be home by 11.” So we left. We listened to old tunes from the 70’s on the way home and she dressed herself back up to just like before the carnival. If you weren’t looking for it, you wouldn’t know she ever had any makeup on. She obviously had done this before, I thought. Then we waited outside her home at 10:45 and she removed my makeup. She seemed so normal even after everything I did. Was I even wrong? Then once she was done, she looked up and said she will leave. I thought of moving in to kiss her but before that she turned her head. Then dug into her bag and tied her leather bracelet around my wrist. “You will be remembered. Thank you.” She said and stepped out.

Pretty abrupt eh? Don’t worry though because part 3 will be up soon! Yes, once I started the story kept expanding and now I’m in need of another part to it! But I will be at it soon! Have fun till then! :) 

One Day in June- Part one

Hey guys. Here is my second short story set back in time. This time it is split into parts. So this is Part one! Happy Reading! 

March 26, 2012. 18:00 hours

“Hairdressers in Iceland are the happiest people on Earth”, she said. Not every day would you hear of something as bizarre; not if you didn’t know her. I remember, it was 5 complete days before she had said hi. I could lie and tell that she had me at hello. But no, there was more to her, a lot more. Some people said she moved from South America and some said from Finland. Personally, I could have sworn she had jumped out of Glory Lane by Alan Dean Foster and would be responsible for the planet’s doom. She could have had a portal to the alien world in her locker and could be sending updates when no one watched, or when she scared people away from watching her. Eyes so cold, that they could give you frostbites. Okay, maybe that was a bad comparison, but you get the idea. She basically walked with caution tape wrapped around her. If it wouldn’t have been for a stupid dare, I might have kept clear of her asteroid belt altogether.

 

* * *

 

September 18, 1996. 13:00 hours

Steve Buthcman called me sissy for fainting while dissecting a frog. It’s not like I was scared or anything, I just could not see its guts spill out in front of me. After paying for Steve and my lunch, I said, “Fine then. Give me any dare, and I will prove it that I’m a real man.” (You do stupid things like that as a high school senior). I should’ve have known what was coming my way, because the first thing he did was turn to Alice. That wasn’t her name, I didn’t know her name. Everyone called her Alice because she came from Wonderland, and her only friends were inanimate objects. I rolled my eyes and braced myself when he smirked. “Ask her out”, said Steve. I thought of protesting and sitting back down like a little chicken while I would beg him for another dare. That seemed less assuring for a real man though. So like an overconfident jerk, I said, “Done.” and started walking towards her table. The slowest 5 seconds of my life. I wondered why my life hadn’t flashed in front of me already. If it hadn’t, maybe it wasn’t my end yet. As I slowly rested my hand on her table, without even looking up from her book she stood up and left. I stood there in amazement, maybe for more than an obvious minute. I didn’t even know her but felt the deepest rejection of my life. When I came back to my ugly existence, Steve laughed and said, “The dare will continue until you are murdered pretty boy.”

September 18, 1996. 14:00 hours

“Dagur Campbell,” called out Big Red, a.k.a Mr. Chapman, our red haired and beer bellied Japanese teacher. He was quite a misfit for my Japanese language class, but then again, so was Alice. I by the way, am half Japanese and so kind of have a reason to be in here. Anyway, he called my full name! He knows I was dreaming. Crap! Alice knows I was starring at her. They’re going to hide my corpse up a chimney for Santa to collect. “Yes Mr. Chapman?” I asked. “Could you translate that for me Mr. Campbell.”  Again! He is going to kick me out. “I’m sorry but I don’t understand it Mr. Chapman.” “You would if you paid more attention rather than starring at Ms. Lee here.” Stupid Big Red, thought I was staring at Jenna Lee who sits next to Alice. Whatever, no one would care. “I’m sorry Mr. Chapman, it will not happen again.” “I would hope so. Take a seat.” Through the corner of my eye I could see Alice staring at me. NO! Not the desirable staring, the ‘I can read your mind’ staring. She didn’t even bother looking away when I turned. I looked away.

September 18, 1996. 14:50 hours

Alice had her locker next to mine since they were assigned alphabetically. This is the first time I even saw her use it. Steve stood there across the hall signaling me to talk to her. “Hi”, I said. She turned her alien gaze to me like she was analyzing my anatomy and then bent down, picked up my fallen book, placed it in my hand and left. Cre-epy! I thought of her eeriness and how much I hated Steve all evening that day.

September 19, 1996. 08:00 hours.

She climbed onto the bus. I was in for trouble since I was the only one with an empty seat. Before things got bad I stood up and decided to remain standing until I reached school. She barely even looked at me; and then slid herself against the window. I noticed a bow tie tied around her ponytail- cute!

September 19, 1996. 13:00 hours.

It was another failed attempt of trying to talk to Alice at lunch. This time I almost thought I got it because she hadn’t said a word or stared into my soul while I talked to her about how much I loved her essays. It was only then, when I saw the black earphone cord peeking out of her hair that I realized she hadn’t been listening. I discreetly walked away.

September 19, 1996. 14:50 hours.

Once again the bell rang. Once again she walked away from my “Hi.” I remained standing all the way home on the bus- again.

September 20, 1996. 08:00 hours.

Today I had decided to not move away from my seat on the bus. I didn’t look at her when she climbed in and could only feel her take a seat next to me. I swear I could see Steve laugh from the back of my head! When I did finally look at her she wore a Brand New shirt today. For all of you that are thinking it was brand new because it still had a tag on, no. I meant the band. I just felt like I hit the jackpot because now I knew exactly what to talk to her about.

September 20, 1996. 10:30 hours.

“Pssst,” I hissed. She didn’t turn. “Hey, umm new girl”, still no answer. Finally I wrote a letter and tossed it to her. I wrote, “Brand New is great. What do you feel about Alexisonfire? They are holding a music carnival at the Peak on Friday. There will be Green Day music too.”  She slowly hid it under her desk and read it. She smiled. She smiled! She was writing. Oh god she was writing back to me. Then she left it on the floor between us and continued doing her work. When I picked it up, it only read, (in extremely neat writing), “11pm. 102.7. Future you will thank you.” That was all that happened with her in the day. On my way home I sat next to Kayla Jones who preferred counting her split ends.

September 20,1996. 22:50 hours.

10 minutes before 11 pm and I had still no clue what her note meant. I thought of all the possible numbers with 102.7. Home numbers, street numbers, locker codes, even car license plates! Not a single one of them seemed relevant, and I wouldn’t be able to ask her until Monday, the 23^rd now.  Maybe she was after all giving me a code to the alien future and all I had to do was look out for a celestial sign or time machine at 11 pm. So I placed myself by my window and turned on my old cassette player. That’s when it struck me! I felt like I had been completely stupid all this while. Of course she wanted me to listen to music, to the bands she liked! I turned on the FM and switched to 102.7. I slept that night to the tunes of Arctic monkeys, Brand New and Bowling for Soup.

September 23, 1996. 08:00 hours.

Alice climbed on. I thought either I was dreaming or she was sleep-walking but she actually smiled. As she sat next to me she whispered (or what I thought was a whisper), “Hi.” I smiled back as I said, “Hey morning. I heard the songs. Do you always listen to the radio before sleeping?” She nodded. Then she fiddled inside her pockets and pulled out her black earphones dropping them in my hand. I assumed she wanted me to put them on and so I did. I immediately recognized the song as Say it Ain’t So by Weezer. Not like I liked that song, but I pretended I enjoyed it. In reality I was just more spooked out. I thought of just asking her out and getting done with it. Before I could think about that she got up and got down. I hadn’t even noticed the bus entering the school.

September 23,1996. 15:00 hours.

Alice was sitting with me on the way home again. I needed to say something. “What’s your name?” I asked, thinking that would be a good start. “Juliet Capulet”, she said. I didn’t want to laugh, but I could not control staring in amazement either. Juliet Capulet; just like Juliet from Romeo and Juliet. No wonder she never told anyone her name. She started laughing then. I laughed too, but I didn’t know for what. “I was also born on April 1^st.” she said. We laughed more. When we finally stopped, she turned and laughed more and said, “It’s June. June Caine. Not Juliet Capulet. And I was born on June 2^nd.” All I did was stare more. And I was speechless. Finally I managed to say, “Oh! Oh, well you got me. I’m Dagur by the way.” “Dagur?”, she asked. “Yeah. It is an Icelandic name meaning Day. My father’s ancestors were Icelandic.” “Hairdressers in Iceland are the happiest people on Earth”, she said and then got off the bus. She was a mystery.

To be continued…

The "talk big" love story ;)

March 13, 2014

First love, first confessions and first crushes! We all remember them. Somewhere in the back roads of our memory, they lay untouched. This is a short story- some may call it a script- about Leo and Itxaro’s love. A relationship that is too shy for even words like theirs’, is explained in this passage of lines. Leo, an introvert and passive character finds support in Itxaro; the bold, wise and beautiful. Read away as these two pour out their “fears” on their journey to finding love.

The "talk big" love story ;)

"Leo?"

"Yeah?"

"Why are you always so quiet?"

" I talk less."

"That's a circular argument."

"So?"

"Geez! Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed!"

"Just a bad day okay."

"Like every day? Why do you take the crap people leave you to deal with?"

"It's okay. They're my family."

"No it's not okay. You stay silent and weird and lost and they mess up with you and I don't like it."

"Ha-ha. Thanks but I have you. You're there to cheer me up and deal with me. Aren't you?"

"I am, but that still doesn't change much you know?"

"I know. But you are my hope to a happy and crazy day. Now talk about something else."

"Fine! Heard of the word floccinauxinihipilification?" 

"What?" 

"Flocci- nauxi- nihi- pili- fication."

"You're crazy! Can you even spell it?"

"F-L-O-C-C-I-N-A-U-X-I-N-I-H-I-P-I-L-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N. That wasn't too hard."

"I don't get it. What's with you and weird words? I mean, look at your own name. No one is going to know that Itxaro is a girl's name."

"Once again, its said as aah- iktaro and not iks-zaro. It means hope. Hey, you know you could name yourself Lyov?" 

"And why would I do that?"

"Lyov is an alternative name for Lev. Lev is a Russian name. U are Russian, and so u should know it is an alternate name for Leo. Which, I would hope you know, is your own name. Then fact 2 is that you were born on August 14, makes you a Leo. And final fact is that people with the name Lyov have their lucky number as 5, which amazingly is the sum of your birthday! Oh what a lovely coincidence eh? Oh and did you also know.."

"..It's pronounced as Lyof. Yes I knew that."

"Hehehe. Yes its said as Lyof."

"So you research on names along with their numerology, in your free time? That is interesting."

"No I research on only things I find interesting!"

"So you find me interesting!" 

"I just might. Who knows!? "

"Hmmmm. Good to know."

"Is it?”

"Yeah, it's good to know that you find me interesting."

"Describe it to me."

"Describe what?"

"How is it good?"

"I don't know. It just is." 

"Oh. Okay. Leo? Heard of Doxophobia?"

"No. Now tell me genius, what is doxophobia the fear of?"

"Fear of expressing one's thoughts."

"And what exactly are you implying from that?" 

"No-othing..."

"I wish you had symbolophobia. It would keep things more simple for me." (Fear of symbolism)

"Aww not bad, you know your phobias well."

"Yes that's what happens when I observe you all day."

"I have Scopophobia okay! Stop staring at me!" (Fear of being seen or stared at)

"Really? Or is it just Erythrophobia?" (Fear of blushing)

"Nah its Soteriophobia" (Fear of dependence on others)

"Ok I'm done! You are going to give me Nomatophobia" (Fear of names)

"See, like I said, you just might have doxophobia! Or is it Caligynephobia?"

"What's this Calin- whatever phobia you speak of?"

"Fear of beautiful women you know!"

"Pfft! Oh please,you think I find you beautiful?"

"I know you do. That is exactly why you're reaction was so prompt"

"Dude I do not have Calin..Ca-al--lin..."

"..gyne."

"Yeah Calingynephobia!"

"Oh so its just Philophobia! The fear of love of falling in love.Just saying!?"

"Yeah right!"  

*Itxaro just smirks!*

"What? What you looking at? You should have shyboyophobia. The fear of boys who are shy!"

"Is that even a phobia?"

"It now is."

"Well you are kinda true! If I do have shyboyophobia, I may not have to deal with you. BUt you know, even with that annoying little face you got something. Something like.. "

"A charm? A charisma? A pizzaz? A magnetism? An appeal? An allure?"

"Sure! Call it all of that. But whatever it is, it gets on you!"

"Hmmm that’s  good to know."

"Yeah, for me too!"

"How?"

"Seriously? You wanna start this again?"

"Why not? I'm spending time with someone I love. It helps me overcome my 'doxophobia' right?"

"Wow where did that emotion come from?"

"I can tell you if you stay. I'll help you overcome your philophobia."

"Me? I don't even have philophobia okay!"

"Dear Lord! You talk so much! Your name should have been Lalage. Its a Greek name for talkative."

"So that means you would be Lelio, a latin name for talkative!"

*shrugs* "I give up. You are too random to argue with."

"Hehehhehe does that make me cute? C'mon Leo say it already."

"Itxaro,as in hope. That is all I will say." 

Few words:

Personally as a reader, I’m not a fan of love stories. They are predictable and frequently cliché. Boy meets girl, girl meets boy, and they find each other different and fall in love! Most often, people miss out on the magic! What about the simple little conversations that makes them different? What about all the crazy inside jokes and bits of emotional fluxes that connect them. The fairy dust and the pixie woven strings that attach two people, start from conversation. And this powerful tool called “words”, is what I think is worth mentioning.