colorado2-- Ephram to the rescue!! Well. Sorta.
beama-- (Face burns red) Thanks beama, I'm humbled by your opinion. (Aww shuddup already :D)
whoopiepiez-- Sit back & enjoy the ride...
I've realised one thing in all of this. I've realised that there really is no point in feeling guilty. Emily says that guilt is just excess emotional and psychological baggage. Well, not in those exact words, but to that intent.
Initiation went perfectly. I was almost like a pro, Jake had said. Well, maybe they were too far away to notice how my hands had been shaking, but I'd entered and left the shop as if I owned the place.
What I'd stolen: Headphones, batteries, a candle and a bottle of Paramol. I didn't know what exactly they'd wanted me to get, so I'd just winged it. Believe me, it had been a lot of trouble even getting all those items hidden into the jacket they'd given me, and it had been at least two sizes too big for me. I'd taken ages to steal each item too, pretending to look for something but not being able to find it. Every time the drugstore owner had asked me if I'd needed any help, I'd shouted out, "No, I'm fine," or "It's ok".
When I was done with my shoplifting and was walking by the counter, I was sure as anything that the owner would stop me and hand me over to the police right away. Thankfully though, he must've looked at me and assessed me as a good kid, even with my hair down and eyeliner on.
"I couldn't find it," I'd explained my empty-handedness to him.
"What were you looking for, girl?" he'd asked me kindly, the corners of his eyes wrinkling. Crow's feet.
"Spray can," I'd answered without thinking and almost killed myself right then for it. Great. Now he was going to think I was some kind of punk.
But he'd just laughed. "You can't find no spray can here!"
"Yeah, I know that now," I'd laughed along. Then I'd made my way out of the store with no trouble.
I'd even yelled out a goodbye at him.
The gang cheered when I got back.
Jake laughed. "I told you that old man's easy to fool, guys!" Emily punched him in the arm.
"Or maybe Hana's just good," she said and winked at me. How they laughed and hooted at my inventory of stolen items. They were happy with the Paramol though, for some reason.
So Initiation's over. I was not fooled though. I knew they were letting me off easy. But I was going to be up for anything and everything they threw my way.
Over the next few weeks there was a marked change in Hana. For one thing, no one would ever describe her as that meek, geeky girl again. She was also inclined to cutting her classes, even if only to smoke with Emily who cut class regularly. The teachers were dismayed.
"Maybe I was too hard on her," Mr Peters was heard saying to another. But it was too late now for an apology.
Do you know what total freedom feels like? Well if I did, I'm sure it would feel something like this.
It's so liberating, the whole concept of not caring. I'm smoking. I don't care. I've been cutting classes to do so. I don't care. I've stolen a couple of things, broken a couple of things, and seen a couple of people get hurt since the night of the Initiation, but I don't care. It's exhilarating.
I feel so unlike me. I feel more like Emily. Daring, dangerous, and not giving two hoots who thinks what about me. That's what I want, isn't it? Cause I'm sick of being pushed around. I'm sick of having my feelings played with. I want control over my own life, and no one and nothing else to rule over me.
So why do I feel so empty?
I get up and throw my cigarette stick onto the ground. There's still a bit left. I crush it under my shoe.
"Where are you going?" Emily asks. She's smoking too, still crouching on the ground.
"Gonna get some air," I reply. Emily just snorts and laughs as I walk away.
"You're a funny girl, Hana," I heard her say after me. Really? I hadn't been trying to be.
I walk and walk, not thinking about where I'm going. I'm looking down at my scruffy sneakers. I see them walking up steps, walking on concrete, linoleum. I'm inside the school.
Correction. I'm standing in front of the auditorium doors.
Talk about nostalgia leading me.
I wonder how Ephram is doing. I haven't seen him since the Initiation night. Well, outside of classes when I don't cut them, that is. I tell myself I've lost my feelings for him. In fact, when I'm out with the gang, it's Jake who occupies my mind. Jake with his cocky smile, unruly hair, and electrifying personality. How wonderfully different he is from Ephram, and yet in some ways, the same.
But Jake isn't who I think about when I'm alone.
I push open the doors to the auditorium. Ephram's inside. He stops playing on the piano when he sees the light streaming in. Quickly, I close the doors and walk away, trying to remain calm. I hadn't really expected him to be inside.
Too late. I hear him running after me after a moment, shoes squeaking on linoleum floor.
"Hana, that was you, wasn't it?" he calls out. I turn around, my arms hanging loosely by my sides.
I admit it. "Yeah," I say.
Can it be possible that she's still the same girl who'd dropped her books all over the floor with a sandwich stuck between her teeth just weeks ago?
I wish I'd done something earlier. I'd known Emily was bad news and I'd been the only one besides the teachers who'd seemed to care in some way about what happened to her. But I hadn't done anything about it.
And now there she is standing in front of me, looking like a different person altogether. Her hair is loose around her shoulders, her glasses gone, her eyes burning with a new hardness, lined with black, and tired, as if she'd been having too many late nights. How stern her mouth looks. The faint smell of cigarette smoke wafts from her.
I don't know how to begin. I approach her slowly, as if she's going to run away. Would she?
He's wearing a green shirt over a long-sleeved white one today. The shirt brings out the colour in his eyes. He walks over to me.
"How...how are you doing?" he asks me, as if he's feeling unsure about himself. Is it possible that the tables have turned? No, not likely.
"I'm doing great. And you?" I ask. I wish we would cut with the formalities already.
"Alright Hana, I'm just gonna get to the point," Ephram says. Oh. Good.
"I...I don't think Emily's good influence. Look what she's..."
Turned you into? No, not good choice of words.
"...made you do," I continue. "I think...I think maybe you should stop hanging out with her, Hana".
There. I'd said it. I wait for a response.
Hana just stares at me. I wonder if my words have registered in her. Then suddenly, without any change in expression, she replies, "And who should I hang out with then? You?"
I don't miss the sarcasm in her words.
Ephram's eyes betray his shock. Well, boo-hoo to Mr Do-gooder. The guilt he sparks in me only makes me want to feel angrier at him.
"Who are you to tell me who I should and shouldn't hang out with huh?" I literally spit at him. "You don't care! Since when has anyone cared?" the words fly out of my mouth as if it has a mind of its own. "I'll tell you when! Since Emily! She's been the only one who's cared!"
"So you," I continue with emphasis, "have no right telling me to lose the only friend I have".
Especially not you.
"That's not what I meant!" I start, her words, her expression causing me to bristle against my own judgement.
That's not what I meant at all. But she doesn't want to hear it. She's off again, taking long strides away from me.
She doesn't understand. I do care about her, as funny as it sounds. Even if I don't really know her. I care what happens to her.
I won't be forgetting the anger that burned in her eyes anytime soon.