Thank you so much for reviewing and letting me know what you think! Glad to see there are people interested! And as for the questions being asked; if you're confused, that's good, because I want you to be! And the timeline is the summer before senior year, in an AU. I guess I'll add that to the description! And Haleb? Wait for it... Everything will play out in time. Song credits; "I'm Sick of Waiting" by Citizen
The world is a clock. It can be heard in the street rush outside, the smell of rotting meat from the dumpster of the chinese place across the street, the beating of my own heart in my chest- a clock, winding down. The pendulum swings in motion, in balance, with just enough force to overcome friction and let gravity guide it. The hands tick over the face- like a person, around and around, non-stop, like a heartbeat. Tick-tick. Like the ocean waves pulled by a satellite, by the moon. Tick-tick. Like the reps on an engine. Tick-tick. The ever-present background noise. Faster. Consistent. The arms move, every second, pulling the next, turning a gear, swinging the pendulum in rhythm. Faster. Tick-tick. A reminder that the earth is moving forward. Death is not the cruelest element in this world. It's time. Time let's people live with all of their regrets. Time reminds people that they are going to die one day.
Tick-tick.
"What was that?" I ask absently, after a few pregnant pauses. Aria had said something, but I was too busy watching the hands on my watch make their way around the face. We decided to skip school today- we would just attend last block, when we had a math test. Our first stop had been Murray's, where Aria works. There was an uneaten banana-fudge sundae on my side of the table, while Aria still prodded at her strawberry chocolate one.
"I said," She begins slowly, "Are you okay? You're super out of it."
Pulling my sleeve over my watch, I rest my head on my hands, "Well, I told you how it went."
"I know." She frowned, "But you're... especially out of it. Did you sleep okay?"
"I slept alright." Bringing the sundae in front of me, I take a scoop- the ice cream was a bit melted by now, since I had forgotten about it.
"You have the pizzaz of a funeral organizer right now, Em. I'm getting some majorly depressed vibes."
I pick a banana out of the fudge, the feeling of disappointment weighing heavy in my gut. Not even chocolate could cure my hormones.
"It's just..." I trail off- how do I explain this? Depressed? No. I find myself making swirling hand motions as I search for the correct description about how I feel about this mess. "I don't know how I'm going to solve this."
Aria pursed her lips sympathetically, "Well, first things first; you're going to have to talk to Noel." Groaning she heaved her giant yak-fur bag onto the table, pulling open zippers aimlessly, "Chipper up, Em. It'll work out."
She was probably right, but the guilt was eating me alive. Some friend, my conscience sniped, you let her down. "Do you have his number?" I inquire, finally taking a bite out of the banana, "That could be a start."
"Yeah, I do," The dark haired girl replied, tucking a lock of dark brunette hair behind her ear- which, currently had radish earrings hanging from them."Just gimme a minute," She dug around in her bag, brows knitting together impatiently.
"What are you looking for?"
"I should have a tiny notepad in here," She all but stuck her head into the gaping bag, "I wrote notes down on it. Math notes."
I hum in response, watching her struggle for a few more moments, before she moaned, and shoved the bag away from her, "Whatever."
Tiny frustrated Aria.
"Here," I say, cracking a smile for what feels like the first time in days, "Give me it." I hold my hand out.
"Good luck," Aria arches her eyebrows, handing me the bag.
"Organizing will give me something to think about." I say, unzipping the front pocket. Aria scoffs, "How Spencer of you."
Snorting, I plunge my hand into the pocket, before pausing. "There's nothing potentially harmful in here, is there? Thumb tacks? A pocket knife?"
"Dig away," Aria waves off the concern, taking another big scoop out of her ice cream. I ball up all of the contents of this pocket, taking out an entire handful and a half of random purse crap. There was a lot of garbage in this pocket, some lip gloss, some pencils, gum...
"God," I mumble in disbelief, after discarding the third empty mint container, "Don't you ever go through this?"
Aria shrugs, "I mean to, but then I forget."
After that pocket had been organized, I don't bother even pulling out the fistfuls from the main pocket- I just upend it over the table. Books, even more garbage, a phone charger, snacks... there was even a DVD in there. I lift it up, quirking a brow- who carries a DVD in their bag? The girl replies to my wordless question with a look that says give me a break, and then replies, "I lent it to Hanna a few weeks ago."
"Huh." I turn it over, it was A Clockwork Orange. "Didn't think Hanna would be into this kind of movie?"
"I don't think she ended up watching it."
"Makes sense." I sort it into the pile that was not garbage, "Dark." I watched that film once, when I was about thirteen years old, and it traumatized me a little. Now that I'm older though, maybe it would be better. "Actually," I say, lifting it again, "Can I borrow this?"
"Go ahead."
I slipped it into my own backpack on the floor, and continued organizing in silence. Garbage, garbage- ew, used face wipe. Nice, Aria. Really hygienic of you. I find the note pad, and hand it to her. "Oh!" She exclaims, pleased. I pick up a black nail polish- but find something far more interesting underneath.
"Aria!" I furrow my brow, lifting up the vintage looking silver lighter- it was actually pretty cool. "Why do you have a lighter?" Teasing, I twirl the vintage looking thing around in my hand, "And why don't you share your Marlboro's?"
"No Marlboro's here, Em." Aria played back, "And even so, I wouldn't let you have one. I'm no advocator."
I ran my hand over the words etched in the metal, "Where'd you get this anyway?" There was rust in those little lines, "World War One?"
"Actually," The dark hair girl's mouth twisted into a excitable, interested grin, "Who knows? It's refill-able. I got it at a second hand shop."
"Well," I put it into the safe pile, "It would be one hell of a lighter if it still works after that long."
Hanging around with Aria was nice. She never pressed too much when there was something I didn't want to talk about- but she was always perfectedly on time when it came to facing issues.
Once the bag was organized, we went up and got the check from the girl at the counter named Jessie- she and Aria were pretty good friends since she started working here, although Aria said she wasn't the brightest. Apparently, she'd seen the girl's shopping list which consisted of "Lettus" and "Backon". She was nice enough, though, so who cares?
"Oh, Aria," I remind her, holding open the door for her as we leave, "Noel's number?"
"Oh!" The shorter girl fumbles around in her newly organized bag for a quick moment, removing her phone, "Right."
And the ever present feeling of doom resettled.
I'm sitting at home, on my bed, a copy of J.K. Rowling's A Casual Vacancy laying open, but unread over my lap. Fitz assigned it a good two weeks ago, and I've gotten through a measly three chapters. I knew it was be a flop in the class, given the size of the book- which was enough to turn off the slower members of third period English, which was, in turn, most of the class. But as I pushed myself to read it, I couldn't find myself immersed in it in the way I wish I could be. It just was not my kind of book. But it was in this moment- the only moment that will ever be exactly like this- my phone vibrated against my mattress.
Good, something to distract me.
Noel Kahn's number indicated that he had replied to the hasty text I'd sent as soon as Aria and I got back to school.
Hey Fields ;)
I can't help but roll my eyes in disgust. Leave it to Noel to take; 'Hey Noel, its Emily, can we talk?' and assume that it meant I was after him. Guys and their egos. One of the many things Ali is right about, is that men will put their egos above anything else, and sometimes their ego gets so big, that there's no room left in their skull for a brain. A prime example is Noel Kahn.
About that talk?
I don't return the flirty emoticon. A reply is almost instant,
What about it?
With great restraint I don't groan aloud. Can we have it?
Sure, what's it about?
I'd rather talk to you in person
I watch the bubbles appear on his side of the conversation as he typed, and then they disappear. Noel I swear to
God if you don't-
Oh? yeah sure ;)
Exhaustion courses through my body suddenly, as if his stupidity, his ignorance, sucks the soul right out of my body through the LED screen. My thumbs move with all of the enthusiasm of slugs across the keyboard; Where? And can it be soon?
The phone slips through my fingers, it falls, tumbles over the floor. Tumbles. Drops. I drop. Muscles detach from bones, tendons wither away, my eyes melt out of my skull, I turn to dust and I no longer exist within the span of four seconds before the phone vibrates again, awaking me.
Leaning down, I lift it from the floor, seeing that it was not Noel whom texted me. It was Spencer; Still coming to the barn Saturday night? Thinking of having a fire, if I can shmooze my parents a bit. Could you bring one of the Jerry Cans from your garage that night? I have the s'more supplies
I type back the affirmative reply, and check my reflection in the mirror. It really looks like I could use a nap. I need some tips from Hanna about how to wake up my skin, and- oh!
Spencer has'nt replied, but I open up the conversation between she and I and ask; Have you seen any watches around btw?
It buzzes in my hand, Noel's name popping up in the unread folder. I open;
Blue Jay Cafe, eight thirty tonight
My watch says it's quarter after seven. Might as well get some food and coffee before you meet him, so he knows it's not a date and so you don't pass out while you're still here.
Grabbing my jacket from the hanger, I tromp down the stairs and manage to leave before my mother can interrogate me.
"Thank you," Politely, I smile at the man who holds the door open for me at Blue Jay. This cafe is downtown, in the old part of Hollis, with the cobbled buildings that have been around since, probably, the 1850's. Honestly, it was a bit of an unusual place for us to meet, when the Brew was so much closer, which is what gives me the uncomfortable feeling that Noel will try to be all amorous as opposed to talk. And that was the last thing I needed.
Inside, it was dimly lit by lanters hanging from the ceiling and wall, and full of hipsters in tie-dye shirts. It smelt like pine smoke and cinnamon, and on the far side of the room there was a tiny stage, currently empty. Pulling a twenty from my pocket, I wait behind a college guy with a man-bun and thick stubble for the bistro bar.
"Hi, what can I get for you?" The girl asks me after the other guy has ordered his bacon tomato sandwich.
"Can I just get a medium chai tea?" Maybe it will calm my nerves. That's what chai does, right?
"Is that everything for you?"
"Yup."
"3.45 is your total."
I hand her the twenty. She gives me my change, I pocket it, and I wait at the far side of the bistro. Behind me, someone has come up onto the stage and started talking. Someone laughs, and then I can hear her apologize, probably to whoever was on the stage, who was probably not even listening. The second employee behind the counter hands me the chai, warns me that it's hot, and I find an empty booth in the back just as the guitar chords begin to chime through the cafe.
In the booth, I slump forward, smelling the tea, listening to the sounds and the words as they came.
"I don't give enough to take back what I own,"
I know I've heard this guy before- I wonder if he's the cute one that performed at the school back in October for the Halloween dance? Or the guy from last summer at the community concert?
"My stories are told out of broken homes,"
Is that him?
"I could be a bit better if I killed off this ghost,"
Looking over at the stage, it's hard to see from way back here- I look for that cute guy's strawberry blonde hair. Ali and Aria swooned over him the whole time.
"I'm alone."
The guitar slows, I see him take a few steps and it's-
Noel.
My jaw drops, I can't be seeing this. There's no way Noel's a closet musician. Quickly, I rip my phone from my pocket and check the time; 8:08.
"I bleed from the inside,
And I won't tell anyone,"
He's even singing some kind of... emotional, dark stuff? I'd expect some kind of pop, or maybe country...
"I'm nowhere to find,
But I couldn't care at all,"
He belts out the last note, and someone whistles. He picks up the guitar. Rubbing my eyes, I make sure I'm seeing what I think I'm seeing, and... yeah, he's still there. Holy.
"Live like a ghost, to keep my from talkin', till you notice where I'm at,"
Reaching for my tea, I blow on it before taking a sip- I don't really feel like I need it anymore. This surprise was enough of a wake-up.
"Cause I couldn't care at all,"
His eyes sweep the crowd as he strums another few notes on the guitar- and he's looking at me. His eyes widen, like a deer in the headlights. His mouth drops open in confusion, and then he closes it, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously. Don't screw up! Don't freak out! Oh no! Placing my hands on top of my head, I ball my hair up into my fists. If he screws up because of me...
"Nowhere to hide,"
His voice wavers, and he looks away sharply, at the floor.
"Nowhere to run to, when nobody listens,
I'm just a liar who's tired of trying,"
This is too weird. My life just keeps getting weirder.
"I'll pick myself to pieces,
Cause I couldn't care at all."
He really is talented, though.
"I'm sick,
I'm sick of waiting..."
His voice softens, and the strums slow. The song has ended, "Thank you." He says into the microphone, and the cafe starts clapping- I put down my tea and join in. It's a few moments before Noel makes his way through the crowd, guitar slung over his back and awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. He's blushing.
"You're early, Fields." He tries to joke, but the embarrassment of being caught shines through in his demeanour.
"Yeah..." I lift my tea, "I wanted to get something to drink, and had nothing else to do."
An apprehensive laugh escapes his lips, "Well... yeah, I told you to meet me here because I had a reservation to come play tonight, so I'd be here..."
"You were good!" I say quickly, maybe a bit too quickly- but the poor guy looks like he wants to dig himself a grave and hide in it for the next thirty years, "You shouldn't be embarrassed or anything!"
"Thanks." He doesn't appear any more at ease. I tried. "It's just something I do sometimes. I don't want to, like, be a rockstar or anything."
What do I say to that? "Oh," I force out a laugh, "Well, you are good. So..."
"About that talk?" He cuts me off, clearing his throat. I can tell he's putting his 'Noel Face' on as he plasters a flirty smile onto his lips, "What was so urgent, Fields?"
"Actually," I say seriously, sighing into my tea. Truthfully, I have no idea how this is going to turn out, "It's about the party last Saturday."
He raises a bushy dark brow in interest, "Go on." He purrs. Clearly he thought our bitching was more like pre-sex bonding. Ew.
"I, uh," Now it's me anxiously tracing the letters on my bracelet, "I said some pretty nasty things about Ali," His expression drops, but I go on, "some pretty... personal things- that I really shouldn't have said."
"Emily," He groans, "She's a bitch. To me and you. She plays with people- you shouldn't feel bad."
"Well, she's my friend," My blood temperature rises, "So what I did was wrong."
He scoffs in disgust, "I don't get why you girls let her kick you around like a bunch of dirty soccer balls. You shouldn't even be her friend."
"You don't understand, Noel." Would he just shut up long enough to let me get to the point? Inhaling deeply through my nose, I continue, "But, I just wanted to ask you if you could... like... stop telling people the things I said about her?"
He leans back, jaw clenching, palms flat out on the table, but a finger twitches. "Emily,"
"I'm serious, Noel. I said those things when I was drunk and upset."
"You shouldn't stick around people who make you upset," He voices softly, leaning his head against the cushion of the booth, "It's not right."
What can I sat to get him to stop? Why can't this be simple? "She doesn't make me upset." I insist, shaking my head,
"Not anymore than anyone else does."
"Bull." He replies, causing me to shake my head again.
"Even if she did, Noel," I say, gently pushing the cup between one hand to the next, "It's really not in your place to decide anything about the choices I make."
His chest deflates as he lets out a long, humbled breath. Bingo.
"So, Noel," I say softly- play it up, play it up!- reaching out and gently touching his hand with my own, "Will you please stop? I know you probably just meant to tell your buddies, but stuff spreads. And I feel awful."
A cautious look crosses his face as he looks at me. Maybe he knows that I'm really trying to convince him- I pull my hand away, and take another long sip of tea. Noel sighs, lowering his head, "Emily, it just doesn't sit right with me."
Oh, for the love of God! "What?" We were making such good progress!
He waves his hands in the air, groping for the right kind of explanation. "She doesn't..." He's coming across very pained- let today be the day Noel Kahn became more than stupid jock, he was also emotional, moral, musician. Got to give him credit for something. No matter how much his nobility was currently annoying me, "She just treats you guys so horribly!"
"She doesn't, Noel!" How could this be explained? "You don't know the whole story!"
He looks away, crossing his massive arms over his chest. "I guess I don't." Looking back at me, the shadows play across his face dangerously. He suddenly appeared so much more menacing, that I momentarily dig my nails into my palm, wanting to just get up and leave.
I can't do that.
"Will you try to explain that this has all just been a mistake?" I plead, spinning the bracelet by the thread now. Noel shrugs dismissively, "Yeah, whatever."
Relief explodes within my chest, popping to my feet I run around the booth and envelope him into a hug, "Thank you, Noel," I whisper, and then briskly break away, "You are such a good guy, you know."
Albeit still looking a bit pissed, his cockiness seems to have returned after my hug. He grins, "Yeah, well, you owe me."
And you know what? "I'm okay with that."
