One Sided

How do you not see what you have, or in my case, had until its too far-gone to see which direction it went? Is it that way for anyone else? Or, is it in fact, only me? If I could have known back then what I know now, would I have changed my actions? If I saw the future, would I try to alter for good what is still yet to come? Is there anyone else truly as vile a creature as me? I am only human. Although, my experience as one has shown me all human beings are vile, wicked creatures. Maybe that is why I prefer dead bodies to living, breathing members of society. They cannot tear others apart over trivial things... Well, not anymore. I have seen just about anything that could possibly be done to one another, mortal or otherwise, either way I am seldom surprised anymore. Since I have lost basically everyone of importance to me, I am either at school or volunteering at the lab. I seldom ever sleep. I have gone so long without it. To put it simply- it has no necessity anymore, a genuinely fruitless action. I used to have to take narcotics to achieve this ability, but now, the dreams of him have kicked those needs. If it means I have to see him, I do not sleep. I can go without it. He has remidied what coffee and sleep aids could not remedy. A monkey on crack like state, or so i call it.
If there was every any curiosity, my name is Gabrielle Michael. Do not let my California address fool you. No beach blonde beauty in search of fame resides here. Not anymore. When I first moved to California, It was sunny, warm and full of opportunities. I was in the same boat with every other Hollywood hopeful. I moved here with the dream to become a star. The idea makes me smile now as I realize how naively blissful that little dream was. Especially when I look in the mirror now. I am not a year older since I have moved here, but I definitely have looks wise. My long brown curly hair now is the polar opposite of the long poker straight, chemically treated blonde hair that I arrived here with. Not to mention I am no longer the starving scarecrow I arrived as, believing that is the way I had to live to be seen. It feels so nice to have a shapelier frame. What caused this change? Perhaps I realized that even as what every other young girl strived to be, I still was not happy. Even personality wise I have changed drastically. I went from being happy go lucky to absorbed and addicted to anything work related. As long as the work kept me out of reality, I dedicated perfection to it. I believe the change was drastic enough to make my friends suspicious if I actually knew anyone. To be honest, I had not the slightest inclination of what my roommates name was, or what she even looked like. I couldn't even bet my life that I was one hundred percent positive my roommate was even a girl, or if that was the only roommate I had. The only thing that hasn't changed are my eyes, and they are the only thing I wish would have changed. Every time I look in the mirror, I see him. My irritation has gone through the roof that I cannot forget this little insignificant detail. I cannot forget him.
I do not like to dwell on things that happen, but a week ago, I at school working late at the lab when there was a call. A homicide by the courthouse. On the call, I saw this man, the most beautiful man I had ever seen. He was leaning gingerly against the cold brick wall of the court house building. I only caught bits and pieces of the whirlwind of conversations around me. "He claims he was the one who called in the homicide, but we have yet to clear him from the scene," one cop stated. I noticed how leisurely he leaned against the building. Quite peculiar, I observed, for someone to be acting if they are the prime suspect. " Looks like an attempted robbery… This man had several warrants out for his arrest." I kept staring at the boy… "Probably some Vigilante, taking the law into their own hands," the cop stated in a satisfied tone. At that precise moment, I saw the figure leaning against the wall give a small half smirk, as if the last statement was thoroughly amusing. "We've been looking for him for several months now. He was our main suspect in a few previous homicide cases." He added. If I were him, I thought to myself as I continued to ogle at the current suspect, I would not be so eager to admit that I could not find a murderer. It doesn't exactly keep the faith in law enforcement… "Where's that new girl?" the cop demanded. "Here I am." I said, snapping back into reality and scurrying over towards the commotion. The cop chastised, "Where have you been, I'm Chief name, Now, Cath-" "Gabrielle," I corrected him. "Of course, could you keep an eye on the witness? Make sure he doesn't get anywhere while our techs process the scene." His request sounded more like an order than anything else. I had the suspicion we had started off, "on the wrong foot." "Chief, shouldn't I be observing the scene processing?" I asked, thoroughly confused by his previous statement. "Do you want to be here or not?" He asked sharply. "Yes." I replied icily. "Then, do what I said," he retorted. JERK! I thought to myself as I walked toward the witness. And what exactly was I supposed to do if the man tried to high tail it, or worse, what if he had a weapon? It would be no contest, because I didn't even have a weapon. I would have to remember that fact next call with Chief Stupid. I would have to bring a box cutter, or somehow, be witty and assemble a prison shank out of one of my lipstick tubes. I was still chuckling to myself about my bad joke when I approached the witness. I remembered abruptly how beautiful he was, but I decided not to let it affect me because I was a professional. Of all people, I needed to know how to handle myself… A voice suddenly invaded my thoughts, " Strong stomach?" I looked up alarmed, and realized that I had reached my destination. He smirked a bit as he said, " What was so funny? I was wondering if you would share your humor with me since this place is completely null and void of it." He asked. I merely gaped at him… I didn't realize that his talking could possibly make him any more beautiful, or was it the fact that he was less than a foot away now. "You are the criminalist, I presume?" He asked when he realized I wasn't going to answer his previous questions. I quickly recovered my tongue and replied, " NO, actually I am just here to babysit you to make sure you don't escape." I said coldly. " You couldn't stop me if I really wanted to escape." He replied. " Why, do you have a weapon?" I asked sarcastically. " You could say that, but it isn't anything conventional." He said certainty radiating in his voice; I was captivated, if that wasn't already the appropriate word to describe my feelings towards him before. I realized that he was a very interesting person, more interesting than just his surface beauty alone. "So, you called in the murder?" I questioned, the small talk seemed to startle him almost as much as it startled me. "I saw him and called it in." he replied, glowering off into space. Even though I lived in California, even though California is full of beautiful boys, this boy was truly extravagant… "So," he said, invading my thoughts once again, "You aren't a criminalist, then what are you doing at a crime scene?" he asked darkly, "The town busy body?" "No." I spat out, "I should actually be over there observing the evidence being collected." I replied sharply. I never took being insulted very well.
At that very moment, I happened to tear my eyes away, I am not really sure why. Perhaps I had to look away from the smoldering anger in his eyes, or it was the fact that it was like an unzipped fly, or perhaps someone's breast was hanging out of their swimsuit top. I wish it had been the open fly. For what I laid my eyes on was completely shocking, at first. Blood. Blood was running from his right hand, from his wrist to his fingers. "Umm, Sir, you are bleeding." I said, beginning to wonder if this man might not have just called the murder in, but might have actually committed it. As he lifted his arm to inspect it, I realized that it was a thin line of dried blood with no exit wound. "That will be all, young lady." The lazy chief said, finally deciding to return to his duty of "babysitting the witness," and already forgetting my name. Thank god, I thought to myself. Bad memory or no, this man had saved me from a pretty scary situation. I was about to inform the Chief about the blood on Mr. Mysterious' arm, but revenge got the better of me and I took one last look at the beautiful boy, who was still glaring at me, and finally turned and walked away. I snapped back into here and now, splashing cold water onto my face. I realized right then, I was always spacing out anymore. Though, It was probably because four hours of sleep every few days isn't quite, 'ideal'. I still wasn't ready to admit that Mr. Mystery was getting to me. Curiosity wise anyway, I wasn't ready to admit, under any circumstances, that I thought he was cute. Although, to be totally honest, I am never ready to admit anything. I would be a great person to be interrogated, I am too bull-headed… There was a noise and I jumped fifty feet, and about mid jump, I realized it was the phone, and as I was crossing the war zone that was my room to answer the phone, I made a pact with myself, " I am getting eight hours of sleep tonight, even if I have to die to get it." That seemed a bit drastic once it was out of my mouth, but I probably would really die if I didn't. " Hello?" I said, still halfway in thought… "You have to get over here, now." The voice said, and as usual, I was completely clueless who it was. Perhaps the reason why I think that is because no one calls me anymore. I have no one to call. " Uhhhh, Sorry, who is this?" "Very funny, I have been wondering where you were… you haven't been here all week, has something happened?" the voice questioned. Suddenly, the name belonging to the voice came to me, " No Paul, I am fine, I have been hammered with English and Chemistry." I was also thinking about "Mr. Mystery" but he didn't need to know that. "Michael, we have some evidence you might be interested in seeing." Good old Paul, he always lets me behind the scenes. " Alright, I will be over in a few minutes." "Bye, Michael." The click on his end of the line verified the end of our conversation and I hung up the phone with a sigh. I felt like a boy when I talked to him, but I suppose that is more my fault than his. He didn't have a last name that was a popular first name for boys, I thought as I put on my shoes. My shoes were pink flip flops. They were comfortable in warm weather and they were effortless to put on, my favorite combination. I took one last look in the mirror as I normally do; I am a creature of habit. I always have been. I decided that my jeans would probably be appropriate, since the lab is so cold. The white cami did not look like it was going to brave the cold and so I grabbed a plain gray sweatshirt off the back of the chair by the desk by the door and walked out. It was a normal California day, bright and warm, sunglasses were essential to actually be able to find any kind of destination without smacking into atleast twenty people. Unfortunately, I had left my shades inside somewhere and I was too lazy to go inside and look through the black hole in which I lived. My curiosity about Paul's phone call made me brave the streets, looking like a sailor with my left hand shielding my eyes. I am glad I didn't have a mirror to see how ridiculous I looked. The lab was about a fifteen minute walk from where the dorms are. It is a good thing no one relies on me to get them anywhere. I have not the slightest clue what the street I live on is, or what street any place I go to is. The way I get around is simple. The Lab is to the left six blocks and then take a right and walk until it is on your right, you cannot miss it. Aside from all the work it does, it is obvious it never gets any funding. It is the oldest and dirtiest looking building that I have ever seen. Out of nowhere, my thoughts wondered back to the beautiful boy leaning against the court house. He seemed to just lounge, if I hadn't seen the blood I wouldn't have thought anything else about it, but what if he actually did commit murder? What if I let a killer go and I was the only one who knew the truth? At that thought I started to cringe. I have always hated my active imagination. As I approached the lab, I observed that it was an ugly mustard color, as I always did. There was nothing high tech about it, atleast not on the outside. I always wondered if they found it more intimidating that way, but I could never be sure. I walked in the door and a breeze of mildew was first to greet me. Paul entered with a smile. I forgot how good looking he was until he walked in. I do not know what exactly made me attracted to him, except for the fact I like smart boys. He had shaggy Brown hair and Dark Brown eyes. Despite the long hours he spent at the lab, he still spent several hours a day working out. I am not a fan of big muscles, but the way his muscles would always cut through his lab coat always seemed to catch my attention…"Michael, I thought you might want to take a look at this." He had invaded my thoughts again, and I took the piece of paper that his tan, muscular arm had extended towards me. " Remember that murder by the courthouse about a week ago, with the man convicted of several felonies?" WOW. I did not expect that to come out of his mouth. "Yes, I remember." I stared at the weird marks and ratios on the paper that made no sense whatsoever to me and I found myself questioning if I could possibly have this job description in the cards of my future. " What does this mean, Paul?" I heard a little chuckle emerge from his throat and I knew it was unwillingly at my expense. " It means we found DNA evidence." I just stared at him, suddenly losing my immediate interest in finding something he said to laugh at, because that is what I like to do for revenge. "What sort of evidence?" I asked, wondering more and more if it had something to do with Mr. Mystery. " There was skin found underneath the victim's fingernails that didn't belong to him. The guy atleast put up a fight." Put up a fight… I thought to myself…Maybe that is why he had blood on his arm…but there was no wound… "Any matches?" I asked, hopefully this person had a previous offense. "No such luck." He said vehemently. I immediately thought of the boy against the court house. It was beginning to matter less and less that he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and mattering more what a potential threat he might be upon our society. "That boy that called in the murder, did you run his fingerprints, anything?" I asked and almost afraid to know the answer. "What boy?" he asked immediately freezing in place. " The boy that called in the scene… Chief Nelson had me babysitting him for some reason." I replied, suddenly becoming aware that something might be wrong. " That Nelson, he does this stuff all the time. That boy was 'beautiful' wasn't he? That foolish gay man!" he ranted. " He let him go without any information from him. He had you babysit the boy so he wouldn't be released until he got to him." I stood there just staring at him. Why didn't I say something to someone else? Why hadn't I stayed and made sure something had happened. I felt so stupid. " So we lost basically everything we had with that boy?" I asked. Only, I don't know why I asked, considering I already knew the answer. " We lost our only possible suspect, if that is what you mean, sorry to cut this short, but I need to get some work done." I could hear an air of persistence in his voice as he said this and I knew he probably wouldn't get any sleep tonight. " Paul, don't overwork yourself." I said softly. I felt a bit guilty, maybe if I hadn't shared my information he wouldn't be so angry right now, but he just looked up and smiled, " Bye Michael." He said. "I hate it when you call me that." I said, the guilt no longer evident in my voice. " The name is perfect for you, you are the toughest girl I have ever met and I mean that as a compliment." And at that, I huffed, stomped out into the darkness, and slammed the door. I started walking down the street completely absorbed in thought when a whistle ripped me from my thought process. I turned and yelled, " Pau-." and realized it wasn't Paul at all. The figure was standing in the shade of a tree, but I could tell immediately that it wasn't Paul. Paul wasn't as tall and had a completely different build to him. This person was different. I could tell. The figure, pleased that I had stopped, began walking toward me. "Hi." He said plainly. I recognized the voice even before his face was illuminated by lamp light. " Hello." I replied curtly. And then my eyes found his face, He was more beautiful than I remembered. More beautiful than I had imagination enough for. He wasn't beautiful in the way all other Californians were. Perhaps that is why I found him so pleasing in the first place. He didn't seem to be a person to pretend to be something he wasn't. I couldn't help but admire him for that, even if he was a murderer. "So, we meet again." He flashed a smile. I couldn't help but admit I loved that smile. "Yes, I suppose so." I still had no idea what this was all about. "My name is Wyatt." I felt like my head was swimming and that my life preserver was failing and I would soon be dead in the depths of the ocean. "Gabrielle." I said coldly. "Gabrielle, may I have a few words with you?" he asked politely. "I already thought you were." My sarcasm was clearly getting the better of me. He ignored my comment and proceeded, "Are you hungry?" At that, my stomach started tying in knots and gurgled. "Yes, I actually am sort of hungry." How could he possibly be so nice? "Hot Dog Vendor?" I asked, figuring I was buying my own dinner. "No, I insist we go somewhere nice. "How about a nice Italian restaurant?" Is this seriously possible? I had to admit though, it sounded pretty good. "Yes, we can talk at the restaurant." He smiled and I immediately wanted to reach out and touch him, but I somehow refrained. He turned and with a flick of his wrist, motioned for me to follow him. I suddenly remembered what he was, or what I thought he was, and couldn't help but proceed with caution. I also couldn't help but realize that he was heading further into the trees. As he began to disappear behind buildings, I began to wonder if I really knew what I was getting myself into. I shook my head vigorously, as to shake the fragmented thoughts out of it. I couldn't abandon the plan now, what would happen if this potential suspect disappeared? I was the only link to discover this guy, and I was going to use whatever means necessary to attain it. I instinctively began fishing through my pockets, discovering a paperclip, four pennies, a piece of gum and some pocket lint. Was there possibly anything I could building for self protection in my pocket. I thought vigorously and realized, No. Stabbing my assailant in the eye with a paperclip would have to suffice. I watched as Wyatt turned up the stairs to a dark building and motion for me to follow. Did he not say we were going to a restaurant? I started to feel sick as I quietly reminisced on the Hot Dog I could have been eating right then. I followed him into a doorway with the number 322 on it. I would try to remember as much as I could, hopefully I get out of here alive. There was my imagination going into overdrive, again. "Ladies first." His voice said, echoing in the nearly empty room. I took a step in and asked, " I thought that we were going to an Italian Restaurant?" " We are in one, and I am a closet Chef." He closed the door and flipped on the light. Wyatt was suddenly illuminated, as if I was for the first time seeing him in color, and not just black and white. I wondered why I had never picked apart his every feature. As he walked to turn on the burner, which was located in on an island in the middle of the kitchen, I inspected each and every feature. First off, He wasn't short. He was probably around 6'1". He had long blonde hair and his eyes were a sea foam green. I realized that this person, although beautiful, did not look like the boy I had seen at the crime scene. I decided to ask before I scared myself anymore. " So, did you clear yourself as a suspect?" I asked, trying to seem non-chalant. " I have never met you before," he replied. I had this sinking feeling I knew he was right, how did I not notice before? Why hadn't I stayed away from this person? "Then, why did you ask me to dinner?" He smiled at my question, as if the answer was quite plain. " I like to meet new people," he said, and at once I sensed an inside joke to himself. I heard a faint running up the stairs and I wanted to scream, but I was frozen. The footsteps were coming closer and I hoped that somehow I could muster just one little scream. I didn't want to take the chance. I suddenly looked up and Wyatt was right above me smiling. His eyes glinting while his hand was reaching towards my throat. The door flew open and a boy came in screaming, "WYATT, STOP!" "Little brother, you always do ruin all the fun." Wyatt said sharply. " How on earth did you even find me?" He seemed exasperated by the very fact of being caught. My savior just glared at him. His arms were crossed and his eyes were menacing. " She is innocent." He said coldly, "Leave her alone." " I wouldn't have to do this if you had taken care of her the first time." Wyatt said heartlessly. "She saw the blood on your arm." " I don't have anything to hide," the little brother replied. "We will discuss this later," the unknown boy finished, " I am taking the girl home." Wyatt glared as the boy grabbed my wrist and yanked me out of the room. As much as I was thankful to this godlike boy, I was also petrified. I had no idea what had just happened to me and I hoped that he was actually going to take me home. "Who are you?" I finally asked, as soon as I found my voice. "I am just a regular person," he replied coolly. I decided to try again. "My name is Gabrielle." I said politely. "It is nice to meet you, Gabrielle." He replied. So this was how it was going to be, we will see about that. I looked at his face, how had I ever mistaken this face for his brother's. I guess memories do dim after even a week. He had curly dark hair, which angled his face almost angelic, somehow. His blue eyes were a color that I had never seen before but it was indisputably the most beautiful blue I had ever seen. He was a little shorter than his brother, by an inch at the most. I would peg him a 6'. " So," I said, " How did you get away from the crime scene?" I asked. " That Chief is quite a character." He said quietly. " He believed in my innocence and released me." I decided to be brave, "Are you innocent?" "What do you think?" I looked at him. " I really don't know." I sighed, " Although, I think you just saved my life in there." He looked up, eyes blazing. " I didn't save your life." He said, " My brother just has a temper and wanted to scare you." "Strangulation is a pretty scary thing." He tried to sneak a smile, but I caught it. " You aren't very sly," I said. " I can see right through you." I said, still feeling confident from the smile I had just spread across his face, " So, just tell me your name, because you aren't sneaky enough to continue to keep it from me." This time he laughed. " Nothing escapes you does it?" "If it will ease your curiosity, My name is Chris." That response triggered an involuntary smile on my part. " See, that wasn't so hard." I said laughing. I noticed out of my peripheral that he was no longer smiling. He looked angry. His jaw was set. " What is wrong?" I asked, confused. "Nothing," he seemed like he was in another universe. I wanted to know what had changed his mood so quickly. " So," I asked, trying to get his attention however I could. "Why were you walking by the courthouse last week?" Are you serious? He asked, suddenly enraged. Wrong question I thought to myself. He continued, " I was already cleared by the cops, and as far as I know you are just a little volunteer girl, so I don't owe you anything." He spat. " Excuse me??" I asked, not able to believe my ears, " What makes you think you can treat me like that," I fumed. " I will treat you however you want." He said flatly. " Well then next time just let me handle myself, thankyou." " Oh, believe me, I will never again intervene. I must say you were doing such a good job of keeping yourself safe when I walked in the door." And at that, he turned and disappeared behind a tree. I stared for a moment in disbelief. Had all that seriously just happened? I doubted I could give my imagination that much credit. I never actually imagined anything in this much detail. I decided to shake it off as fiction and turned and began the lonely walk home. As I was walking, I realized that I still hadn't eaten. I stopped at a hot dog vendor. He was a gruff man with a strong stench of body odor. I tried very hard to keep my gag reflex in check. I got the hot dog classic. Just a fancy way of saying a hot dog with ketchup and mustard. I smiled at the smelly man and walked away, inhaling the hot dog in two steps. Two long blocks later I was unlocking the door to my place. A rush of hot air blasted me in the face. The heater, as always, was not turned on. I threw my keys on the desk. I decided immediately to take a warm bath to relax me. I grabbed a towel and began to run the water. It always seemed to take forever to find the perfect temperature. I grabbed some bubbles and lit a few aromatherapy candles and stepped gingerly into the bath tub. This was exactly what I needed. I could feel the knots of the past day unknotting themselves in the warm scented water. As I inhaled the floral scent I couldn't help but think of him. How had this boy taken hold of me as he had? I didn't even know anything about him; I didn't want to know everything about him and yet I needed to know everything about him. I didn't even know this boy's last name. Not to mention that his brother seemed to want to really hurt me for some reason, and yet I was still completely fascinated by this boy. I realized that I was in the exact position I swore to never be in again. As I pondered that thought, I realized that I had never been this far in a situation before. Not even with the boy that landed me in this cold and cynical state have I been as scared and determined to win a boy in my entire life. At that moment, I knew that somehow I had to make this work out. This Chris would be mine. I suddenly shook my head. What am I talking about? I don't even know this person. I refused to think of the subject anymore and focused my eyes and thoughts on my hands, which I immediately noticed looked like prunes. For the sake of my hands, I quickly decide to not wash my hair tonight. An obvious decision for me to make, because I never do at night whether my fingers are pruny or not, because I hate the smell of bedhead. I shuddered as I grabbed the cream colored towel hanging from the post by the tub. As I stepped out, I shook each foot to get the excess water off. I almost always do this. Sometimes, I sware I have OCD. I wrapped the towel around myself and I walked over to the sink and as I looked in the mirror, I quickly noticed the purple, bruiselike formations under my eyes. I gingerly touched them for a moment and then quickly rolled my eyes and opened the cupboard and pulled out a bottle of anti-depressants. I have been living off these for a year and a half now and I have yet to stop being depressed. If anything, I feel more sad than before. Despite my discovery, I pop them religiously every day. Despite my discovery, i pop them religiously everyday. I threw two in my mouth at that thought and stuck my head under the spigot for a mouthful of water. I then brushed my teeth, brushing nicely, because my gums have been really sore lately. I really needed to go see a dentist, but what college student has money for important things like that? I turned and walked out of the bathroom and into the very next room. I enjoyed having a bedroom close to the bathroom. Easy and quick access. I will never have a bedroom across the hall again; I have been living way too conveniently this past year. As I walked to my closet, I saw my math book, it was glaring at me from my desk. I felt an immediate twinge of guilt, but I glanced away and kept advancing towards my target, the dresser. I pulled out a pair of sweats and a t-shirt. I quickly threw them on. I didnt want to pause and look in the mirror; I was done being self conscious. Well, not looking, i could tell myself that anyway. After the 2.2 seconds it seemed to take to change, I turned and looked at my mathbook again. I knew I really should work on it, but I immediately became parched at the sight of it and decided to get some water instead and quickly escaped out of the sight of my book, and with that, my guilt as well. Out of sight, out of mind. To get to the kitchen, you have to walk through the living room, and on the way there, a blinking light caught my peripheral vision.Temporarily forgetting my thirst, I walked over and noticed that there was one new message on the recorder. I couldnt remember for the life of me if it was there when i walked in the door or not, but I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, just in case I had to take a message and hit play. "Gabrielle?" I recognized the voice at once and my body turned rigid. " Gabrielle, I know you are there." Thankfully I wasn't, I might have done something I would regret later, like actually stick up for myself for once. "Anyway, please just listen to this message." Why would he deserve to be listened to after all this time? " I want you to know, I am sorry... for everything." A little late now, it has been, what, a year now? " I have been pretty shitty these last few months." Ha. That was an understatement. " You are an amazing person. I mean, I always knew you were, but I didn't realize the extent." Here comes the flattery. Did he really think I would fall for this again? "You know how I always said I love you for everything you are and everything you aren't?" Faintly, until you brought that snake into the picture. My hand curled into a fist. "Well," he paused. " There isn't anything you aren't." All that, i had to try and keep my gag reflex in check, but i felt my face make that familiar movement despite my attempt. At that moment a voice broke into my thoughts. " Ya, that is the exact face I made." I jumped about five feet off the ground and whirled around. A skinny blonde girl was standing there with a boy, i would imagine he was her boyfriend, holding her around the waist.
" He left about a hundred messages with me that i just never gave to you." she paused, " then i stopped answering and deleted them as they came, but i must have missed this one, " she said, pointing to the machine. She flashed me an apologetic smile and i couldnt help but smile back. A guys voice, the boy, obviously then cut in, " If kate wouldnt have taken off with my hat, we would have caught it while you were still in the bathroom." He smiled again, " I dont believe we have met." He stuck out his right hand, " The name's Josh, but they call me Pogo, I dont know why exactly either..." I laughed a little in spite of myself while shaking his hand. " Gabrielle." "See, I told you, Pogo." she stuck her tongue out at him. " Oh, so this is the roomomate that i was convinced didnt exist?" " ya, I try not to be home much," I said coldly. They both heard the bitterness in my voice despite my attempt to hide it, I could tell. Their faces had looks of pure sympathy. Pogo then smiled, " Lets all go do something." Before I could answer, Kate jumped in. "like what?" "I dunno," he smiled a crooked grin and said, "lets go cow tipping." I couldn't help it, I just busted up laughing. "This is California, where on earth would we go cow tipping?" Kate obviously agreed because she said, " ya, really) mid laugh.
"Well, I'd like to see you come up with a better idea," declared Pogo. "Fine," Kate pouted a bit and I felt like I had just stumbled into a soap opera. I hated those shows. I never really could get into them. "Lets go see a movie." I suggested casually. Trying to get Mr. and Mrs. Whiner to get over their sudden marital-like dispute. They were still glowering at each other and I had to concentrate really hard to supress the giggle trying to escape my throat. "What kind of movie?" Kate asked. She asked in the kind of tone that a person uses when trying to pretend they are being nonchalant, but in reality,it isn't. "We won't go see anything that will make you wet the bed tonight." Pogo teased. Pogo started to laugh and Kate smiled unwillingly. The mood was lightened, thank god.
With another chuckle, Pogo offered to drive. That was a good idea, considering I had never once been to a movie theatre since I moved to California. We had no idea what was playing, or what time, but it was California. Most people were "fly by the seat of their pants," or whatever the saying is. We were just following the mood. I must have drifted off into my own world again because when I finally drug myself out of my thoughts, I found myself walking to the parking lot behind our dorm. It was beginning to scare me how well I could function on auto-pilot. I noticed immediately a sleek, jet-black car in slot number six. I had never noticed that car before. The car beside it was Pogo's. A blood red car. It was a beautiful car, but not as beautiful as the car occupying number six. I didn't know much about cars. I didn't know how to change oil, nor did I know any models of cars. I suppose that comes from having older brothers, of which, I have none. The only thing I knew about cars, a girl told me because I told her she should name her car Bob. She then informed me in a smart-ass way that cars were always girls. Needless to say- I don't talk to that girl anymore. Pogo's car was nice, nicer than any other car I had ever been inside. It had tan leather interior. I secretly decided mommy and daddy had purchased it for him as a kind of bribe to achieve their dreams. Pogo didn't seem like the kind of sheep that followed the herd. Poor parents, no molded- perfect offspring. Good for you, Pogo. I realized that I was drawn to Pogo from the first moment I saw him. Not in the romantic sense. The kid wasn't ugly either, he just wasn't beautiful. He was the boy you would see walking down the street and you would call him cute, but it was his personality that made him extraordinary. He had straight, long dark hair and chocolate brown eyes. He eyes matched his personality. Soft, warm, and very inviting. His happy go lucky way of life always shined through. I wonder how he met Kate. Kate was what you would call an old fashioned beauty. Natural in every way. She had straw blonde hair and large blue eyes with unnaturally thick black lashes. A young girl born naturally the way every other girl wants to be. The person I had wished to be, but couldn't. She had all the attention she could ever want. Girls like me were ignored, but I preferred that system these days. Thoroughly enjoyed being an unnoticed recluse. Those are my own insecurities coming out, though. Even I knew it. I hated to admit it. I watched these two entirely different people with peeked interest the rest of the two minute car ride.
The theatre was packed. We could see it from the street.
"Ugh." We all groaned our disgust evident in our unison.
"Suggestions for a plan b?" pogo asked.
It was obvious none of us wanted to battle the crowd.
"Any takers on some Ice Cream?" pogo didn't really ask, or, well he didn't give us time to answer. He was already pulling into the parking lot of a small ice cream shop.
"Special requests?" pogo asked with a smile.
"Neopolitan" Kate replied simply.
Pogo shook with laughter.
"This is a homemade icecream shop and you say Neopolitan?" he asked.
"If it is any consolation, I want mint." I said. "That has always been my personal favorite.
Pogo smiled at me. It was obvious that he appreciated my chime in.
"That's the spirit. I want to get something really strange… like bubble gum!"
We all laughed as we climbed out of the car and walked into the building under the blinking red icecream sign.
It was bigger inside than the outside of the building hinted.
There was a large area with around 20-30 tables. They were round and had four chairs around each.
"This place is dead during the week. Not many people know about it. It only opened last month." Pogo explained.
"Are we supposed to go sit down, or, are we supposed to go up to the counter and order?" I asked, beginning to feel self conscious.
"I actually have no idea," pogo admitted sheepishly.
"Well I nominate you to find out." Kate said simply.
There was no joke in her tone. She seemed just as excited as I was to look like an idiot, which was not at all.
We picked a table in the center of the room. Pogo left Kate and I sitting at the table as he walked to the counter to order the ice cream.
I was scanning the strange black and white pictures of blobs when I noticed we weren't alone in the shop. A girl was sitting at one of the round tables in the back corner of the shop, staring intently at the days paper. She had long, light red hair. Nothing extremely interesting. I pulled my eyes away from the in the corner to look for Pogo. It seemed to be taking him ages. Pogo was standing in line behind another boy who seemed to be getting annoyed at the girl behind the counter.
He must have come here with the girl in the corner. I went to turn back to the blobs, but something familiar about him kept my gaze. I tried to concentrate on something else. The boy was paying. It was about time. I wanted my Ice cream. As the girl went to greet pogo, the boy turned.
In a quick motion, my mouth fell open and since I was already reclining back in my chair, I toppled out of my chair.
I laid there for a moment, hoping that by the time I got up, he and the red head would be gone.
Kate poked her head under the table. "err, are you alright?"
I didn't even take the time to answer her question.
"Is he looking?" I whispered feverishly.
Kate looked confused.
"He's still ordering; He missed your spill."
"Not him!" I said, attempting to explain without actually explaining.
She started to ask something else, but I abruptly cut her off.
"shhhh!" I paused and then added, "he'll know we are talking about him."
"Who?" She asked again, but this time she whispered; Apologetic.
"The boy with the red head girl in the corner," my voice felt incredibly small.
"No, he isn't looking. I don't think either of them noticed."
I felt disappointed.
"Really?" I asked. Somewhat hoping there was a mistake.
"I'm positive." She replied.
I couldn't explain why, buy for some reason I felt upset. I just didn't understand. I didn't even know this boy, besides the fact that his name was chris.
"Are we having a secret meeting without me?" pogo asked, making a face that he thought mirrored sad, disappointment.
I honestly wondered how his parents survived his childhood in one piece. He had to be the most ornery human being alive.
"Hey, my ice cream is melting and I am sick of waiting on you slow snails to decide to eat yours." He groaned. " I am sick of being a gentleman."
He tried to be serious, but within a few moments we were all laughing and taking our places in our stools. Kate did get Neopolitan, I had a bowl of mint chocolate chip, and pogo had pink and blue ice cream. I had a strong suspicion it was cotton candy. I noticed that I was the only one that didn't have a waffle cone.
"pogo, how come I didn't get a waffle cone?"
I was feeling more and more comfortable around these two by the minute.
"Because the boy in line in front of me said he knew you and that if I got you a cone for you, we'd have to prepare for it to be everywhere."
I could feel my face burn. I was not expecting that and I looked in chris' direction to find him staring back at me. His brow lifted and he turned his back on my slowly to face the red head he was with. My face felt like it was on fire. Pogo had obviously become annoyed with the fact that kate and I hadn't started eating our ice cream and began wolfing his own at record pace, forgetting all pretenses of a gentleman. I suppressed a laugh.
Kate was immersed in her own thought because she didn't even look in his direction at all.
I felt eyes boring a hole in my back, I turned to see Chris. He was looking at me again, his dark eyebrow raised even moreso than before. I self consciously wondered what he was staring at me for. I wanted to walk over there and smack him, but I didn't. I miraculously restrained the impulse. I merely gave him the dirtiest look I could muster and then looked away.
Looking down to concentrate on my ice cream, I realized that it was no longer there. I looked over as Pogo prepared to engulf the last bite. His eyes locked on mine and in a swift movement, he dropped the spoon and batted the bowl in my direction. I laughed as I shoveled the half melted bite into my mouth.
I heard chairs move in the direction of the corner and my eyes unwillingly looked up.
The red head was bobbing out of the parlor with Chris in tow. I watched as Chris reached the door, what he did next, I didn't expect. He paused and turned to look at me. As I quickly averted my eyes, I heard the tinkle of the door as it was opening and dispensing Chris into the street.
Kate was slow at eating Ice cream. She liked to wait until the Ice cream was a soupy consistency and a gray color before slirping it off her spoon. Pogo seemed more annoyed than I was at this. He has no patience. She had enough for every country on the planet and then some.
The whole Ice cream experience lasted a whole hour. Pogo and I needed only about twenty- five minutes. Thirty- five of it was for Kate, absent- mindedly stirring her soup.
I must be boring. I must have offended her somehow. I thought to myself as we piled into the car.
Kate had her phone to her ear as soon as the engine hummed to life.
Pogo, sensing my loneliness, engaged me into conversation.
"So, Gabrielle, what are you planning to do when you get back to the house?" he asked casually, shifting in his seat a little towards me, but never taking his eyes off the road.
"I am actually planning to do some math homework." I showed mock excitement.
Unfortunately, Pogo missed the joke. He was smiling broadly.
"I love math." He said.
"You had better help me then, Mr. Mathematician, because I suck at it."
"No prob, No prob, my friend."
The rest of the car ride was in silence, well, except for the occasional "hmmph." From kate.
When we pulled back into pogo's slot, kate flew out of the car before pogo and I even had our seatbelts off. Pogo looked back at me, shaking his head.
"boy troubles."
I looked at him blankly, " what?"
"her boyfriend is mad we went out to get ice cream."
"Isn't she your girlfriend?" I asked, completely confused.
He laughed.
"No, she is my sister."
Wow. I never would have guessed that. The surprise must have been transparent on my face, because he replied,
"Ya, you aren't the only one I have about given a heart attack with that information."
He was laughing at me, but his smile felt like rays of sunlight. Uplifting and warm.
"so, what do you say we get in there and started on your math?"
"I'd say you were a god from the heavens."
I could hear him chuckling as I opened the door and slid out of the car.
I was cursing myself under my breath. There was no way to avoid it now. Pogo was going to help me, I had to behave. I thought of making up a sudden illness. Claiming a serious need to go to the hospital from an allergic reaction seemed like a really smart plan until I started weighing my chances of keeping the charade going more than twenty minutes. I knew I had to face the fact that my chances weren't good and decided to suck it up. Pogo had caught up with me in the time I had walked ahead on auto pilot and asked, "hey, are you okay?" I looked up at him, preparing to answer, but he cut me off… "just excited to do some math, huh? Don't worry, I wont make it too horrible on you." I didn't answer I just let him walk ahead of me inside and when I was sure he wasn't looking, I glowered and stuck my tongue out at him. I followed him soundlessly to the kitchen table. I couldn't remember the last time id used it. Most of the time I forgot it was there.
" Go get your math book Gab."
I could barely understand him. He was already rummaging through the fridge . I walked back to my room in a huff, dragging my feet more with each step, trying to prolong the few math free moments I had left. "The quicker you get back in here, the quicker it will be finished and you wont have to worry about it anymore."
I made a mocking face while picking up my book and retorted,
" You sound like my mom."

"As long as your mom is hott, I don't care."
Why was that every boys reply?
When I was back in the kitchen, I launched the math book directly at him, nearly knocking over his coke.
" oh, you are lucky that wasn't my coke, it would have been on."
"what is that supposed to mean?" I questioned defensively.
He smiled at the the sting in my voice, " don't even worry about it it didn't happen, you are in the clear."
He watched my face, waiting for a reply, but I said nothing, so he continued…

" so, who is that boy that keeps calling you. You know, the wone that makes you want to vomit?"
I'm sure I looked like a deer in head lights, I hadn't expected this subject to ever come up.
" his name is andrew. He is a boy I dated back home."
"oh, things didn't work out, I take it?"
"they worked as well as they could when the guy you are dating is cheating on you with someone else." I shrugged, trying to lighten the air.
"ouch."
There was silence for a moment.
"is that what made you move here?"
"no, it wasn't just him. I needed a new life. Fresh opportunities."
"Ballsy."