The next day was a Sunday. Bright sunlight pierced through the window, because I forgot to draw the curtains. I rolled back and forth and tried, trying to go back to sleep despite the brightness.
Unsuccessfully.
I gave up eventually, left the warm bed, dragged myself into the bathroom and got ready. After that I went downstairs quietly because I didn't know if my parents were still asleep. I sat down in the living room and turned on the TV.
Bored, I flipped through the channels, but nothing caught my interest so I went into the kitchen. There, I put cereal into a bowl and poured milk into it.
Then I sat down on top of the brown kitchenette and began to eat. I stirred around in the bowl, once clockwise and then in the other direction. The cereal flakes followed the swirl and whirled around. As I looked up, my dad stood in the doorway.
„How come you're awake that early? Earlier than your mother and I?" He walked past me and opened the fridge.
I shrugged.
„No idea, but I bet that it will be different tomorrow, when I have to get up early and go to school." A smile crossed my dad's face.
He poured milk into a glass and put it back into the fridge.
„How was it with Linda yesterday? We talked so much about our journey that I completely forgot to ask you about that."
„It was alright. We talked for a long time and laughed a lot."
„That's nice. You're lucky to have such a good friend and that since... How many years have you known each other for again?" Clueless, he scratched his head.
„For ten years, dad." I constantly had to remind him of something. His long-term memory wasn't the best.
„Exactly. You've been friends for ten years now. That is a long time, especially at your age." I could absolutely not explain why he pointed out how special my friendship with Linda was. I knew about that since the first time I jumped around a playground with her.
„Oh, before I forget to ask, have you done your homework already?" He looked at me seriously.
When it came to school, whether it concerned grades or homework, my dad was very strict. Again and again he asked how school was going. He used to help me with math from time to time, my most hated subject number one.
This „tuition" had mostly been a disaster because my dad quickly got impatient and when I told him that I would never understand math in my life, he had yelled, leaving the room, furious and for the rest of the day he would be in a bad mood and hardly approachable.
„Partly", I lied and kept eating the cereal. I hope that my dad wouldn't keep on asking, but such luck was not granted to me.
As always when he learned that I had not for hours silently sat at the desk and concentrated on the homework, he knew no stopping.
„Why only partially, Holly? You know very well that you should not always defer everything until the last minute. I remember two or three teachers who told me at the parents' evening that you often didn't have your homework."
Inwardly, I complained about the teachers and rolled my eyes when my dad was not looking.
„I know, dad, and I'm sorry that sometimes I have neglected my duties, but I swear to you as soon as I finished breakfast, I'll do the rest", I said guiltily, raising a hand like doing an oath in court, as I had often seen it on TV.
He grumbled something unintelligible under his breath and nodded absently. Apparently this promise was enough for him, somehow at least.
Before he could ask more, I put the empty bowl in the sink and went back upstairs.
Actually I wanted to move the stack of homework to tonight, but the meaningfulness of my dad was stronger than I had thought. So I sat down at the desk and began to write an essay for English class. Since I was pretty good at English, it was pretty easy for me. But in the other subjects I unfortunately wasn't progressing as fast.
I quitted history halfway through the given task, I did biology rather superficial and math, I had not even begun with. I gave up faster than it was good, but why should I fool myself. I was a total failure at math and had no desire to torment me with formulas and graphs.
Since I was busy with homework for a few hours, the rest of the day flew by. And before I knew it, I was in bed, dreaming of gray eyes and red dresses.
A shrill, high ringing interrupted my sleep. I groped for the alarm in the dark. As my left hand had captured a square block, I pressed the button. All of the sudden, it was dead silent. I'd rather turn around and go back to sleep, but I pulled myself together, went to shower and stood, like almost everyday, desperately in front of the closet.
After 20 minutes, I decided to wear long brown trousers and a short-sleeved, dark blue blouse. When I arrived in the hallway, I saw that both the jacket of my dad, as well as my mom's were already missing at the cloakroom. My mom, who worked as a nurse at the hospital, had probably morning shift and my dad also started his work as an insurance expert early. In the kitchen, I grabbed an apple, bit into it with relish and looked out the window. Outside, there was a gray and cloudy sky. Thick fog hang over the roofs of the houses.
Well, that's what I call good weather, I thought wryly, grimacing. I ate the apple down to the core. Then I grabbed my backpack and left the house.
It was unexpectely warm and I began to sweat under my thick jacket. I went to my second hand Ford Focus Hatchback, which my parents had given to me on my 16th birthday recently.
It was white, so that the dirt which stuck to the outer sides stabbed one directly in the eye. It was probably time to wash the car again. That would be the third time since I had it. Maybe I should pay more attention to the cleanliness of my car, after my parents had spent money on the car and complained almost every day, when they saw it standing in the driveway after work, about its condition.
Then I always said that one should never judge anything or anyone because of their appearance. This wisdom got me acidified gazes every time I used it.
I got in and turned in the reverse gear. The stick shift could only be moved with great effort so it took some time until I finally drove down from the driveway onto the street.
Despite these and other quirks, I was glad to have an own car and not be dependent on my parents.
The ride to my high school took half an hour. At a stoplight, I had taken off my jacket and thrown behind me. All the while the air in the car had been warm and a faint smell of old rubber had mixed with it. I didn't know where the smell came from. Was that the smell of this used car or was something wrong with it? Best I first asked my dad and if he had no idea where the smell came from, I would have to visit a service station.
In the parking lot of the school a few other cars and their owners were already visible. With a great swerve I parked my car a bit away from the others. I wanted to leave comfortably later and not squeeze past outside mirrors and risk triggering an alarm. I got out and looked for my backpack and jacket in the back seat.
„Hi", I heard a familiar voice say. Zack Pierce stood behind me. He was a plump, small boy with a sunny disposition and a good friend of mine. Today he wore a loose-fitting jeans and a little blue narrow checkered sweater that still underlined his pudgy belly.
"Hi, how are you, Zack?"
"Good. How was your weekend?"
"Nice," I replied and put on a smile. "And yours?", I asked while we were on the way to the main entrance.
"Good. I was at Sebastian's birthday. We were in the woods, there is a new paintball facility there. It's super cool, I tell you. I was really good."
When I looked over at him, his bright eyes were not to be overlooked. I shook my head and rolled my eyes.
"Boys. A with colorful paint filled gun is enough to fascinate them and spend hours with it." He lightly poked me in the side.
"Yes, Holly, I know I am childish."
Then I pushed him as hard as I could and he crashed into a blue VW Golf. Simultaneously we bursted out laughing. We were still laughing as we entered the school building. Before us was the whitewashed corridor with the ugly green lockers, which dragged on endlessly.
On the walls were various posters, school events or parties announced. Those were the only spots of color that broke the depressing atmosphere. The, with gray linoleum covered, floor stuck under my sneakers, because of that a disgusting sucking sound was heard with every step.
Many students were either in small groups and talked animatedly or were rummaging the books for today's lesson from their closets. Many did their homework till the last minute or simply copied it from someone else. Even Zack had to go to his locker again. Since I had everything there and had to go in the other direction to history anyway, I said goodbye until the lunch break. I trotted listlessly down the hall to room 105.
Once there, I went to my seat by the window, grabbed my notepad and the history book and laid it on the white table. Like all the others, I waited for the start of our class.
Some of my classmates greeted me when they came in. I only nodded because I wanted to avoid boring and banal conversations about sports, lessons, teachers or clothes. At such an early hour, I could do without it.
Two minutes after the bell rang, Mr. West, my history teacher, walked into the room. He was a stocky and almost bald man.
As usual, he only put his leather bag on the desk and then thoroughly wiped over his face with a mint-green handkerchief. This he did because he very quickly got into a sweat, as he explained after a student had asked him about that. I, in his place, would have never admitted in my life that I had problems with the overproduction of my sweat.
At the beginning of the lesson we discussed our homework. That was still bearable, but then Mr. West began to speak about the Second World War and I turned off my head automatically. I stared out the window and could see how the fog lifted slowly but surely. But this spectacle of nature could not captivate me for too long. Every now and then I scribbled poems on my paper or was playing Tic Tac Toe against myself.
When the bell rang, I yawned with relish. At last it's over, I thought and noted the homework written on the blackboard.
After another class, this time it was biology, I was at the food counter in the cafeteria, impatiently waiting for the long queue to shorten, but it only did so at a snail's pace. Step by step.
After ten minutes, that seemed to me like ten hours, I had managed to get a plate of spaghetti bolognese, a small salad and a chocolate pudding. I just looked for a free seat when I spotted Zack in the middle of the cafeteria. With a slightly wobbling tray I set myself in motion.
After I arrived at the table, I put my tray gently down and was glad that I didn't drop anything. I sat down on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs and recognized some friends, who had already taken their seats at the table.
Zack sat opposite me and munched a hamburger. Next to him, I recognized Sebastian, a good friend of his, but I barely knew him. He had very short, blonde hair and a pudgy nose, which somehow did not fit his lanky body and narrow face. He and Zack were talking, probably about the birthday party at the weekend.
Vanessa Greenwood, a nice and reserved girl with short brown hair, was engrossed in a book. She lifted her head only to push a fork with lettuce every now and then in her mouth. Mikaela and Mitch sat at the table as well. I knew both of them from math class.
They have been a couple for five months now and did everything together. They drove to school together, had the same hobbies and even ate the same things. I found their behavior strange and exaggerated to be honest. They clung to each other for almost 24 hours. Sure it was nice to be able to spend time with ones partner, but I thought that was a bit too much.
Right now they were passionately kissing each other and it seemed as if they never wanted to stop. I could hear the clacking of their tongues and as Mikaela reached into Mitch's shoulder-length hair, I turned away in disgust. Listlessly, I was poking the food around, but I had honestly lost my appetite and for the thousandth time, I wondered why they always had to do that while eating. The fact that we others wanted to eat, without having to constantly admire their snog, came obviously not to their minds.
Still, in my mind, I envied them in my a little, even if I only reluctantly admitted that.
I missed a partner with whom I could share my worries and fears, which I could trust and with whom I could spend time with. I was slightly melancholic and my thoughts turned to the stranger with gray eyes again.
Despite the certainty that I would probably never meet him here, I looked up, craned my neck and looked around. Here and there I saw guys with brown hair similar to his, but when I looked at their faces, I never saw the one, which I secretly hoped for.
A sudden feeling of loneliness came over and crept up in me, but almost at the same moment a scratchy sound frightened me. To my right, Linda emerged.
"Is everything all right, Holly? You look sad. "She set down her tray and peered into my face. Was I really not able to hide my feelings? My face was more like an open book, which everyone could read whenever they wanted to.
"It's all right," I replied.
"I see, that something is wrong, I've known you since we were small. So spit it out. "
Actually I hated nothing more than to talk about my feelings, even with Linda, it was an uncomfortable topic for me. So I avoided her piercing gaze, but to my regret she did not let go.
"Ignoring is helpless." I groaned.
"You know I can not stand it to talk about my feelings, but before you freak out completely, I'll better tell you what's going on." Linda's facial muscles relaxed.
"I feel pretty lonely, especially when I see the two of them there." I pointed to the couple licking each other and Linda nodded sympathetically.
"Do you by any chance also think about the guy you have told me about on Saturday?"
"Yes, though I don't want that. It would be easier if I forget him, but I can't." On her face a broad smile appeared.
"Then you're obviously in love with him." Shocked, I stared at her.
"You are crazy. I'm not in love with him, I don't even know him." What ever got into her to come to such an outlandish claim?
"Who are you in love with?" Vanessa asked with a voice so low that I could barely hear it. I had not noticed that she had looked up from her book and listened to us.
"With no one," I replied angrily. I found it rude and brash that Vanessa had overheard us and now wanted to interfere in our conversation.
"Linda just imagines something."
"Oh." She went back to her book.
"Now do not get upset, Holly. I didn't mean that seriously." To compensate, she hugged me briefly and looked at me apologetically.
"All right," I muttered, but I was still in a bad mood. Especially when I discovered the face of Quentin Jones on the opposite side of the cafeteria, who laughed with some of his buddies at length about anything. His goofy grin gave the rest to me. I left my tray, stood up and stormed out of the cafeteria.
I breathed heavily, because I could hardly get air into my lungs. I had to get out of here, so I ran toward the parking lot.
I sat down on the steps in front of the school, leading to the entrance and tried to calm myself down. I greedily breathed in the air, trying hard to think of other things, such as the possibly forthcoming visit to the service station. Surprisingly, it worked.
I enjoyed the silence and the weak sunbeams that blazed through the clouds and then warmed my face. Unfortunately, I was not alone for long, because I heard footsteps behind me. I closed my eyes, trying to shut myself out from the outside world.
"Why did you ran out so rashly?", asked the voice of Zack. I heard that he sat down beside me. His breathing was irregular because he probably followed me as fast as possible.
"I don't want to talk about it, Zack."
"Well, I just stay here and we can be silent together." I opened my eyes, looked at him gratefully and put my head on his shoulder. I liked that about Zack. He didn't squeeze anything out of me. Instead, he accepted it, if I did not want to talk and gave me quiet consolation.
There wasn't much time granted to us, because the annoying bell rang and called for the next lesson. Zack stood up and reached out a hand to me. I took it and with a jerk he pulled me up to him.
"Thank you."
"No problem."
In front of the school building, he smiled at me again encouragingly, then he turned and went back in .
After I had gotten an English lesson behind me, I finally got back to the parking lot.
As I was still looking for the car keys in my backpack, Linda appeared out of nowhere and leaned against the car door.
"I'm sorry, Holly, from the bottom of my heart. I did not want to offend, or to make fun of you, really. I will never speak about the topic again. Promise."
She crossed the middle and index fingers of the right hand. Slightly annoyed I looked up from my backpack.
"It's all forgotten, Linda." With my left hand I finally pulled out the key.
"I'm sorry, but I have to go."
Offended she looked at me, but I did not care, because I had a reason to be offended, not her. I just wanted to go home. On the way I turned on the radio as loud as I could. The bass boomed against the closed windows and deafened my ears.
With a loud screeching halt I stopped in our paved driveway after short time. I marched straight into the house and went looking for something sugary in the kitchen.
Sugar always helped when I was in a bad mood, but to my luck I found nothing and so I trotted up to my room, threw the backpack on my unmade bed and sat down on the rotating desk chair. With one foot I pushed and put the chair in motion. Steadily I put more power in the foot, turning faster and faster on the same spot. My room roared past me in a variety of colors before my eyes.
Stupid Linda, I thought. Why did she have to intervene constantly? Could she not be a bit like Zack? Furious, I narrowed my eyes and my forehead furrowed.
I should have never told her about the stranger. I was hoping for her understanding and above all silence, but nice Linda prefered to trumpet everything out. Outraged, I snorted.
Slowly, I felt sick on the rotating chair. I gently stopped. Everything still swirled around before my eyes, but I stood up and staggered to the bed like a drunk.
There I lay until the furniture no longer turned. It was clear that I needed and wanted to distract myself, but how? The only thing that occurred to me was doing homework, but was I really desperate enough to consider homework as a diversion? Probably, because I actually grabbed my math book and was surprised by myself.
Full of enthusiasm, I set to work, but five minutes later I closed the book in frustration. I understood nothing. Why had a subject like math to even exist? I groaned in exasperation. I was just too stupid to look behind the closed doors of mathematics. There was only one who could help me and that was Zack. I immediately grabbed my phone. It rang three times before he answered it.
"What's up?", he asked immediately.
"I once again have problems with math. Can you come by perhaps? I owe you one then." No answer. He probably thought about it. He had time, hopefully. At the end of the line came a coughing.
"Sure, I come over. I know how helpless you're without me." He laughed. "I'm with you in about 20 minutes. See you soon."
"Thank you, you saved my life."
In no time I provisionally cleaned my room, after all, he did not necessarily have to see the chaos that I had caused within a few hours.
Then I looked in the kitchen for something to eat, something I could offer Zack. I just found fruit, I draped on a plate when I heard the roaring exhaust from Zacks very old red Chevrolet outside, which he had inherited from his late uncle.
Since no other family member had found use for the scrap heap, Zack had taken it with him and overhauled it of course, with the help of a mechanic, as Zack had two left hands, he frequently proved in crafts class. Meanwhile, the Chevrolet began to move without pushing, but the exhaust and the engine were still deafening and when you sat in the car for a while, the eternal roaring got one on the nerves.
Of course, I had never told Zack that, he was incredibly proud of the Chevrolet and his work.
I was in front of him at the door before him and opened it. Zack just came up the steps of our porch. His face, however, I could not see because it was hidden by a pile of books, notepads and a file folder.
"Hi," he managed to say between two noisy breaths. I held the door open for him and let him in.
"Shall I take something?", I asked anxiously, as the construction looked very fragile. He shook his head vigorously.
"Okay, but be careful. We better go into my room."
Puffing, he walked up the stairs. I was right behind him.
Once or twice, it looked as if he would drop the books and the other stuff, but fortunately nothing happened.
I followed him in my room, where he dropped everything on the desk. The file folders and books slid to the side and pushed almost all my stuff off the table.
"Watch it,", I whispered and clutched my school stuff protectively .
"Sorry,", he mumbled and piled the goods he brought neatly back together.
"What's all this?", I asked, putting my things on the bed with precaution.
"Well, math books, my notes from the last six months and these ...", Zack tapped his right forefinger on the file folder, "... are my all records of the past three years."
I was confused and overwhelmed at the same time.
"But I don't need all that, I just want you to help me with my homework."
"I won't make it that easy for you, Holly. We'll write an important test soon, as you hopefully know. Luck alone will not help you there."
He raised an admonishing forefinger and frighteningly resembled my Dad when he remembered me of my school duties.
"I think you're exaggerating nevertheless. The records from the last half of the year would have been enough,", I replied, because I feared the worst.
"You are missing the important basics, and that means that you have to make up for it, otherwise you'll never learn the rest."
"I didn't get the damn basic knowledge, as we have discussed it, Zack. I'm just a nut in math!"
"With my help, you can do it all." He had more confidence in me than myself.
"If you say so, but how should do that exactly, please? I still have other things to do." Stunned, I flipped the file folders and only discovered, to my annoyance, fully written pages. He patted me on the shoulder.
"Don't worry, with a neat schedule you won't even stumble." I rolled my eyes.
"Zack, first off, I hate it when you say such ridiculous and old-fashioned formulations such as "to stumble" you know that. And secondly, a schedule is completely unnecessary." He shrugged.
"It's your decision, also it was just a suggestion. So, we want to start?"
He sat down on the desk chair. Reluctantly, I took the white wooden chair that stood in a corner of the room, and sat on it backwards. Three hours Zack tormented me with functions, equations, geometry and statistics. My head buzzed and felt incredibly heavy.
At six pm he went home, but left me his documents there, so I could learn further or look something up. Done and tired I cleaned everything aside and wanted to lie down just when I stopped and paused.
Finally, the thought of the impending test let me take the documents into my hands again.
