Don't be a silent reader people :)
who do you think you are? runnin' round leaving scars, collecting your jar of hearts and tearing love apart. you're gonna catch a cold from the ice inside your soul; so don't come back for me, don't come back at all.
It was just one of those days where I couldn't think of doing anything. There was nothing that could motivate me to participate, or pay attention. I still couldn't grasp the concept that the soccer season was over and I wouldn't be able to play until I went down to Florida for training during the winter break. I couldn't imagine what I would do in between that time.
Then there was Nicholas, would was the best at sending mixed signals, I didn't know how to deal with him right now. Honestly, I didn't think I needed to deal with him. This is my life, and my time to shine. If all he's going to do is drag me down, then he's not worth it. I already talked to Dylan about this, and we both agreed.
He should find someone more suited to his lifestyle.
"Edgar Allen Poe watched his mother bleed from the mouth as she died from consumption, as he and his two siblings lay in bed beside her. Hemingway committed suicide with the same gun his father had used to kill himself. Lord Byron's father had an incestuous relationship with his own sister, and his mother's relatives were a toxic mix of the depressed and suicidal. When you look at the families of the crazy geniuses, you start to understand where their pain comes from. You start to get their need to paint it away, write it away, compose it away."
I was in English class, my last period of the day and finally hearing something that would be at least remotely interesting.
"I want you all to write about something that you do to deal with your own stress, and relate to one of these people. I will not be sharing these with the class, I will just grade you on your ability to capture the feeling and emotion as well as the true problem you all would be dealing with. You may begin." The teacher nodded once, heading to her desk and beginning to write something down.
I raised my hand, grabbing my teacher's attention. "Yes Miley?"
"How long can it be?" I asked, my mind filling with millions of ideas.
"As long as you would like," she said smiling, turning back to her work. This class has always been one of my favorites. She would give us writing assignments, and I'd be the first one done, with five times to minimum requirement of writing.
…
My walk to the gym was a long tiring one. I knew that he wouldn't be there, yet I still got upset when he didn't come. Somewhere inside of me, I was hoping he'd show up anyway, despite what he said yesterday. Or rather, what he didn't say yesterday.
The locker room smelled the same as usual, the stench killing my organs and nose. I quickly got in and out in just a few minutes. The gym seemed a lot brighter than usual, the things that irked me just stood out more.
I stood up for a moment, deciding to get water from the cafeteria first. My pace slowed as I walked through, looking at all the other people in there. It wasn't quiet, but I knew that most of the things these people were talking about would turn to silence in just moments. In high school, there are just so many things that are irrelevant, yet we all talk about it because we don't like feeling lonely. And being here, we think that these other people will like to talk about everything happy going on in their life. You believe that maybe, just maybe, it would make our lives – those people without the perfect family, feel a little bit better. Or at least give us some hope of what could be.
I put my four quarters into the machine, my fingers glazing over the options before hitting one and waiting for it to vend. I turned around, getting one last look at these people surrounding me. I wondered what went on behind the closed doors of these people's houses. A mother that drank too much, a father that hit. Parents that fought, or tried unsuccessfully to hide an affair, or who couldn't leave the house out of fear.
Maybe we all had our secrets.
I grabbed my water, turning on my heel and making my way back into the gym.
"Hey Miles," Hayley said, her lips popping at the s.
"Hey girl, whats cracka-lacking?" we fist bumped, our cold hands a nice contrast on each other.
"Nothing. Had a rotten day at school, but now that we're at practice I'm hoping it will all get better. You feel me?" she asked, her hands struggling to open up her gym bag and pull out her basketball shoes. She finally plopped down on the court beside me, removing her things and putting them on.
"Yeah, I understand what you mean," I said softly, remembering how my day went. Pretty much the worst.
Nick didn't even bother speaking to me, and he didn't have the balls to at least tell me why. He just went back to those stupid old games where he would look at me all day, in silence. I couldn't take it anymore. I swear, with him it's like taking one step forward and then three steps back. There was always something that would be going through his mind that stopped him from doing what he really wanted. On Saturday, something probably kept his mind from thinking too much. He finally let go, and allowed me to see his feelings. But now… I don't know where we stand. At all.
…
The practice went slow, but it was what I needed. Every had one of those days where all you wanted to do was sweat all the pain away, and then just go home and sleep? Yeah, well this was one of those days. I didn't want to do anything. Food didn't look appealing, and neither did my homework.
I walked out of the gym, being stopped by a rock as I tried turning the corner. "Oof!" I cried as I rubbed my forehead.
"I'm so sorry I-" the one who caused me to stop said, his voice serenading me. "I didn't see you."
"That part is obvious." I looked up at him. He was covered in sweat, shirt baggy and drenched as well. Yet, he still smelled like a winter breeze, his skin having just the right glisten to it.
"Ooh, a little feisty. Well, I wouldn't expect things to be any different coming from what I hear about you." He smirked, his innocence disappearing with his earlier apologetic expression.
"And do I know you?" my head turned to the side; his lips turned upright as he stuck his hand towards me.
"Ryan."
"Miley. But you already know that."
"How could I not know this? You're all over the school. Star soccer player, the new basketball star, oh, and a closest poet on top of that." I frowned, how did he know about my writing?
"Marcus told me." He said, as if reading my mind. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me Miley." I nodded, beginning to step around him.
"Do you need a ride?" he asked, his body slouched against the wall as his bag dropped an inch closer to the floor.
"Um, I think my ride will be here soon," I said, not wanting to actually get a ride from him. He didn't seem… well, something was definitely off about him.
"Come on, it's the least I can do for running into you when you clearly had a bad day," I looked at him stunned, not knowing I could be read so easily. "Don't worry, that can be our little secret too."
I was swooned with charm, my mind going everywhere. Was this wrong? Being friends with a guy who already knew so much about me? Wait, that sounded stupid.
I shook my head, trying to get the stupid thoughts out of my mind. "Alright, if you insist."
"Good, you seem interesting." He nodded, motioning for me to follow him outside. "Oh, its pretty windy," he stopped, waiting for me. "You might want to put your coat on."
"Right, thanks."
"Just looking out for my soon-to-be best friend." His smile could have melted my heart.
We started walking out the door; I followed him into the parking lot as he maneuvered around the cars to get to his vehicle. "I see you're pretty confident."
Ryan scoffed, "Well it's hard to know what to say when I'm around a superstar. I can't be too lame, or else you'll think you're wasting your time." he clicked on his keys opening his Chevy truck.
"But I can't be too cocky because then you'll think I'm a douche bag." He opened the car door for me, using his arm to motion for me to climb in. His leather seats tenderly welcomed me with more cold.
He walked quickly to the trunk, pulling the cover open for a moment and throwing his basketball bag inside. "I think I'm pretty close to in between, right?" Next he was sitting beside me, turning the key and starting the engine.
"Wow, looks like you spent long hours at home talking to the mirror." I smiled to myself, knowing that that was what happened when Dylan first saw me. He told me he spent days in his room thinking of ways to approach me. But in the end, I approached him. And he was silent until I almost turned around; I smiled shamelessly, knowing that I probably looked lost in memories as I did so.
"Damn, and I was hoping you wouldn't notice." He put his right hand on the back of my shoulder rest, turning his head as he looked behind him beginning to back up. "Did I do well?"
"Curiosity killed the cat." His lips curved into a smile, his eyes locking with mine momentarily before turning back to driving; we pulled out of the school parking lot, following a blue BMW in front of us.
"But my name is not Cat, my name is Ryan." He had a quirky sense of humor; something that I loved in a guy, more or less a person.
"No comment on that one, Ry." I dragged out the nickname as if saying it in disgust. He chuckled, his arms reaching for the radio.
"What kind of music do you like? Lady Gaga? She's my jam." I smiled, nodding as he cleared his throat.
"Can't read my poker face!"
"Oh dear lord."
"You love it."
"Sure. Sure. Now, its good cats have nine lives."
"But my name is Ryan."
We both looked at each other momentarily before bursting out laughing. Our conversation turned from the edge of jokingly stupid, to getting to know each other deeply. He could read me like a book. He knew what to say to every memory I shared; he knew what to respond to every problem I told him I was having. The radio was just a hum in the background; this being the first time I could be in a car where I didn't feel the need for the only thing to hear is the radio.
Up until this. "Are you with Nick?" he glanced at me, knowing that this was hitting territory that he probably shouldn't be hitting.
"Um."
"Oh sorry, I didn't mean to put you on the spot. Purely curious."
"Turn here, and then it's the second left a while down." He listened, following my directions precisely. I sighed, my voice coming out strained. "No, it's fine I just don't really know where we stand right now. He asked me out, and then things were pretty good for a couple of days. But then, he just stopped."
"Stopped what exactly?" he kept driving,
"Stopped everything. Stopped talking to me. Stopped trying to catch my attention. Stopped talking to his friends about me. Stopped calling me. Stopped liking me…" I mumbled the end silently. "Sorry to be bugging you with all my problems Ryan, it's just you seem like a really great guy and I'm glad you came and talked to me."
He smiled, patting my shoulder lightly as he took his hand off the wheel for a moment. He turned onto my street, sighing aloud.
"I do believe that we ran into each other, and it was you who initiated the conversation."
I grinned, feeling the car coming to a stop as I pointed to my house. He pulled into the driveway, stopping the car at a full in front of my garage.
"Thanks for the ride Ryan." I opened my door, watching him as I did so.
"Can I have your number? You know, in case we should carpool again." He slyly asked.
"Sure, whatever your game plan says." He chuckled, taking my phone from my outstretched hand. "I'll text you." He said, giving me my phone back.
"Thanks again, I really needed your ear today."
"And it's all yours when want. Bye Miley." I shut the door and walked towards my garage. He started backing out of my driveway, waving when he got to the top and went back onto the street.
What a nice guy.
…
I walked down the hallways, the people around me seeming to disappear from my view. Other students would give me the same look that I got yesterday; Nick's eyes would meet mine for a second before they would quickly move to anywhere but me.
I reached my locker, turning the purple lock slowly. I don't even know what I want from in here. I stopped turning my lock and walked into my homeroom.
"Hey." Jenny was sitting down in my seat with her boyfriend John sitting in hers. I gave her a nod, taking the seat in the back of the room instead, my iPod filling my ears quickly.
And that ended my social life for the day. Who knew that by not responding to one person in homeroom that you would be setting yourself up for no communication to anyone for the rest of the day?
Not me.
The bell rung alerting me for first period all too soon. I stepped into the hallway deciding that it didn't matter if I kept my headphones on for another moment, and I took off down the hall towards the gym.
"Miley." I heard the murmur of my name through my music, but decided against turning to see whom it was.
But it came again. And another time. Finally, my phone buzzed in my pocket – but I kept on going.
I walked into the gym, the air conditioning hitting me flat in the face, my uniform solely not enough to keep me warm any longer. I took out my textbooks from my backpack, placing them in a secure circle around me as I waited for the class to begin.
People started filing in, the bleachers filling up pretty quickly. The guys class was on the other side of the gym, most of them looking over at us. Even though they were a senior boys gym class.
"Listen up ladies! The copier broke this morning, and since the classroom for health is getting renovated, I can't just grab my other copies from there so today we will just be working on social skills. Don't be too loud!" the teacher of my first period announced, making me sulk even more. The one class where I knew that I wouldn't need any interaction with anyone today, but now I would just look awkward if I sat alone. Which was what I intended to do.
"Hey Miley," Sydney said, her uniform showing off just how thin she really was.
"Hey," I sighed, my composure getting worse by the second. This was why I didn't need to get a relationship with a guy. They're too complicated and needing – but the moment that they feel insecure themselves, they back out. Losing everything that you once had with them.
"Why are you sitting here alone?" she asked, taking a seat on the out skirts of my circle of textbooks.
"I just have a lot of work to do," I said, my voice flat. She didn't get the hint of course, or she was being a good friend and decided to ignore my obvious lie.
"Well Miles, I know you're upset about Nick, but I honestly think that you should just let him go. He was a big distraction, and I really think that you should focus on basketball until its time to worry about the bigger stuff- soccer."
I nodded, knowing what she said to be true. This was truly the reason why I felt that I needed to have him gone from my life. He hasn't done much to benefit me – other than give me the chills and smiles, so I don't think that my reason for stopping our relationship was very out of the blue. Was it?
"You're right," I said. "I'm not going to let him talk to me like that, or even get into my head. All that matters is sports. Sports are life."
She nodded, a smile on her face. She stood up and walked away to her other friends.
I looked down at my books, alone now. "Sports aren't life. They're just something you do. Too bad I don't have anything else to live for."
I looked around at my peers, the smiles on their faces, so free and unknowing. They didn't have to feel the constant pressure of being the best at everything; school, softball, basketball and especially soccer, were always going to be a competition where I have to prove I'm the best, and that I can show up anybody who challenges me.
They don't have to feel how I feel everyday.
…
I looked around, the basketball court outside empty as ever since the cold air lingered around with the wind hitting the wall.
I finally responded to his text, realizing that it wasn't some irrelevant thing that I should delete. He needed me, no matter how much he didn't really know me. But he said it – he needed girl help, and I seemed to be a good person to go to.
Not that this made any sense to me since I can't even keep a relationship myself.
Nonetheless, I replied and said I'd meet him outside. "Hey."
He walked towards me, backpack in hand and sweatshirt on. "Hey," I said.
He took a seat next to me. It was silent for a second, our breaths the only thing to be heard.
"There are too many problems to think that you can fix me." I looked at him, waiting for a response. I didn't get one so I continued. "I've been reaching, from the depths of my soul – hear me pleading? I'm a child; I need to believe in something that could help me in some way. But time after time, I get nothing. I guess the fact that I'm still alive is a good sign, but I'm sorry! That's just not enough for me anymore. I need guidance! I feel like I do everything wrong these days, but nobody helps me! They just tell me it's wrong, and don't tell me why. It's not the fact that they stop me that I'm irked about; it's the fact that they won't tell me why they stopped me."
His lips were caught between his teeth, his face contorted in question. I could tell that he wasn't expecting me to be as open to this as he was seeing. This conversation was initially supposed to be for him to vent his issues to me.
I continued on since he probably wasn't ready to talk about how he was feeling, since he probably just realized that I had problems just of the same capacity and level that he did.
Most of us do.
"I don't think people understand how I'm feeling here, and no matter how many people say they've been through the same thing, I'm never going to believe it."
Finally, he responded. "Miley, I really want to talk to you. But I don't think I can let you have the burden of my problems on top of yours, especially because I just met you. I already care about you, and I don't want to have this relationship – if we have one already, get terminated before it's completely begun."
I waited for him to start talking again, hoping that he would say something. I didn't like being the only one who talked during heart to heart conversations – then it wouldn't really help anyone.
"What I need," his voice changed, his eyes just hinting at the past and heartbreak. "What I need, is a pretty woman next to me, to share the dreams that I believe. Someone who truly understands, how to treat a man. That's what I need, and that is what I've been waiting for the good things to happen to me.
"But Ryan, you have to go out and get that. No woman like that would just come to you. She's going to be a beautiful and sophisticated girl who you have to work to get. Unless of course she falls for your charm as quickly as most do."
He smiled at, wrapping his arms around my shoulders giving me a tight squeeze for a second.
"Thanks for ditching theology to come talk to me," he said, letting go of me.
I smiled. "Hey, it was my pleasure. You know I'm not too good at all that science fiction stuff any ways."
He chuckled. "No Miley, I don't remember you telling me that one."
"So, now that this is all settled, can we possibly go get something to eat?" I wondered, starving even though I had lunch just a hour or two ago.
"Yeah of course." He laughed as we walked away together.
I was hoping that maybe I found someone here who understood the constant pressures that I do. Maybe I have.
Or maybe, it's all in my mind like it was with Nick. Guess we'll have to find out then, huh.
Hey. So I gave you just a little look into how Miley's mind is working at the moment. So.. now that Jason is out of the picture, we can't have Miley completely alone at her school & I don't think that the story is quite ready for…. But anyways, Ryan is going to be very important. He will be a great friend, and someone who has tons of problems that he needs help getting through. Don't be a silent reader.
Trust me, Nick isn't giving up just yet.
Emily. Whisper hello, i miss you quite terribly.