schrodinger's cat story inspired by hachi's song lynne (part 1)
I wondered when the cicadas would die out that year.
That was what I was thinking, whilst tiding up my books, letting them fall orderly in my hands against the table so they'd end up being straight when I would put them in my bag. The cicadas didn't die out, meanwhile, still going on, making up for the silence the school was singing. I always thought it felt wrong, a quiet school, devoid of the usual boisterous morning noise but club activities overran again as I smiled, waving at the last club member to walk out of the door. I was supposed to tidy things up with her, but obviously another 'errand' came up. It's not as if I could blame her.
My bag went on my shoulder as I later followed, being the only student in the corridor. The other girl had already long gone; her figure not even at the other end.
I liked to take my time, especially when I had to wait for my boyfriend anyway. For me being in such a melancholic mood on the last day of school before summer holidays, I was strange. I ran all the way to the boy's tennis club as if I could outrun my string of bad feeling. I've always been told that I had this uncanny way of telling when something bad was going to happen, that I should've been some occult character, some fortune teller, something. Or I must've been someone of that description in my past life. A whole load of rubbish, that's for sure but it made me happy nevertheless.
Empty school scenery passed me by, old floors and old structures, school founder's statue, ivy vines and well-kept plains. I ran past the first gym, the running track, and I kept on running until the tennis courts were in sight. I was pleasantly surprised at how long I kept up my running; I'm not at all physically fit, see.
Panting for breath, I gripped onto the court gates. No one was there. I walked over to the boy's changing rooms, to see if there was any sign of life. None. Not even a note on the door or anything. I also did something that I thought went against my better judgement and tried the handle to the door. Nothing. I hit it in frustration, turned on my heel, and promptly fished out my phone and dig out his caller id, the top of my recent calls list. Do I have a life? Nope, it's as bleak as hell.
I got through, only to have my call cut. Just before I was tempted to throw my phone on the floor with anger and snap my phone strap in two, it was an anniversary gift from him, my phone buzzed so harshly that I dropped it.
¬ hey b sry im outside the gates forgot to text u
Maybe if I was a protagonist of a drama, I'd be disgusted. Snap my phone in two as if it didn't cost me three month's salary from my part time job and break my phone strap like it didn't mean the world to me when I first received it. The little black cat smiling at me with some of its face rubbed off from day to day wear and tear was a token that the third year tennis captain with the goofy grin and the gorgeous dye job was still my boyfriend. It proved that even though we hardly spend weekends together on dates, he'd devote all his time spent away from tennis practice eating lunch with me and walking home with me.
I held my phone against my chest, and once again, I found myself running again. Running towards him with a speed even now, I don't understand.
¬ im coming wait for me darling
X
The train ride home was an oddly quiet one. The setting sun basked us in a glow that couldn't reach us, or just, couldn't reach me, because I was still cold, looking up to my boyfriend with a practiced smile hiding all my unease.
We were talking about trivial things, like what I should make for lunch tomorrow and what drink carton's the best even though I know he never deviates from coffee milk despite me warning about the high amounts of sugar in them. You're an athlete aren't you? Yeah, so? So you should watch what you're shoving inside your body! Eh, don't nag; I don't like you when you nag.
Then he'd kiss me and I'd just let it go.
Classes were an often talked about subject, like how he was one hundred and one percent sure our balding maths teacher fancied our Japanese teacher even though he had no chance in hell, that Miwako only likes big guys, to go with her big rack. And then I would pinch his cheek and give him a look of disgust. He'd easily swat my hand away and laugh it off.
I had moved out of my seat to let an old woman with a shocking resemblance to my old grandma and grabbed onto his wrist so he would stand by the doors with me. I smiled at him and asked him how practice was, until I was cut off. Already.
"Oh God, I'm sorry Rin, it's already my stop, I gotta get off." He closed an eye and clapped his hands together, body hunching so he was now the same height as me. It was his usual unapologetic pose but he didn't know that. I could only laugh it off and wave him off; it wasn't as if he was lying. It was my fault, but suddenly, I was more than aware of the black haired girl sitting oddly stiffly, not even trying to hide the gaze on my boyfriend.
I turned to stare at her as openly as she was staring at him, but that didn't seem to deter her from patting down the imaginary crinkles of our school's skirt. There was no doubt that she went to our school. There was no doubt in her intentions, either.
Her sleek black hair blew a little in a sudden breeze that ran into the carriage, and before I knew it, the train had moved on.
My phone began to vibrate.
¬ Rin im breaking up with you
And before I could even think of a response, my phone vibrated again, its buzz loud and intrusive.
¬ goodbye
1,079 part 1
end 17/04/14