Chapter 06s: Emptiness
I'm going to a different school nowadays. Fake-mom and Chris live too far away from where we used to live, so that makes sense.
It was never a problem really, getting along with other kids. But nowadays.. I'm just that weird girl who transferred in halfway thru the school year.
And I don't really care for what they think. And they, in turn, notice that I don't care, and then I care even less. Presently, we're of a mutual agreement that the other party is not worth our time.
Okay, I lied. There's that one boy that is yapping away right now while I eat my lunch.
He is annoying. He whines. Action figures this. Computer game that. Get the message already: I don't care.
Frankly, he pisses me off. His cheerfulness reminds me of Nii-san. Who promised to be my rock so I could lean on him.
After uttering a word of apology he probably deserves, I sneak away and find some silence in the girls bathrooms. At least he cannot follow me there.
One lock later, and I can chow down in calm. I think those girls I passed peered at me as I slammed the stall door closed.
Whatever.
The tears are running over my cheeks as I begin to eat.
But I'm not going to make a scene. Just leave me alone, people.
I nearly finished my sandwich when someone bonks on the door of my stall.
"Hey, pipsqueak. You in here?"
Ugh. Her. I had forgotten about her.
Or rather, chosen to ignore her presence at the school.
"No."
"Don't be such a wuss! You're crying while hiding on the toilet again. Boo hoo hoo, you are so sad and nobody can understand. That's it, right?"
"Get out, Jenny!"
"No, you get out, Setty!"
"That's not my name!"
"It is now!"
"Then yours is Je.. Jaa... Jellybelly!"
The words slip out of my mouth in anger, but for some reason, the name I came out with makes me laugh. It makes her laugh, too. Damn it. Why did she make me laugh?
"Well.. you've got three minutes before I call a teacher. So please come out and have lunch with me outside? I won't make you do a walk of shame."
I want to retort, but her footsteps move away and the door to the restroom falls shut.
Sigh. I struggle to eat the final bit of my sandwich, do my business, and finally get off the toilet. The door unlocks - yes, nobody here - and I wash my hands and face at the sinks.
Ugh, my eyes are all red. Better splash some more water on my face. And towel it dry. Eww, why paper towels? Cheapskates.
It still beats the toilet paper that time at that 'kid whisperer' person. They didn't have anything nearby, so I borrowed some of that. The memory of how it tore into pieces as I dried my face makes me feel so embarrassed. Getting that mess of my face required a second round of splashing, followed by my sleeve. In the end, I was more wet than anything else, and those adults just looked at me like I was an idiot who just makes a mess.
The sun is shining outside. I hadn't even realized how depressing that simple fact is.
Give me rain. Give me wind. Give me a snow storm. And thunder!
Life should not move on..! It should not be so happy!
Ah, she's sitting there. With that shiny red hair of hers, she is a hard one to miss even if she weren't the oldest and tallest girl currently in the yard.
On one of the swings.
Why the swings? I shut my eyes closed to repress more tears. There are no sand pies here. It's just a place to sit. That's all.
"I see you came, Set.."
"..Suka." I quickly finish my name for her, trying to glare at her.
Still, a smile is on my lips. I feel it there. An uninvited guest. But I simply can't help it; thinking of her with a big belly full of jelly is just too funny.
"Pipsqueak, then. I saved you a swing."
Reluctantly, I move to the swing besides hers and sit down on the swing. Jenny is a few years older; I think she's fourteen now. I never bothered to ask.
As if to cut down the pointless conversation that is to come, I put all my force into pushing off, making the swing swing with me on top of it.
"I used to be a bit like you in the past. Angry. Frustrated. Mom and dad mean well, though. You don't have to keep hurting them."
She's not planning on swinging on hers though, I notice. It's perhaps a bit difficult; her legs are a bit too long and these swings were made for younger kids like myself.
"Why? Fake-mom and Chris told me. They are hoping for dad to die so they can adopt me!"
Angry as my words are, the volume isn't high. Others don't need to know. This is so embarrassing.
"No, Setty. They want you to have a home even if the worst happens. Like me."
Her voice pauses a moment, and I can see just a touch of pain reflecting in there. She hides it well, but with our similar histories, I can tell surprisingly easily.
"Mom and dad don't replace my real mom and real dad, you know? I think of them almost every day."
I wonder if her parents had red hair like she does. She really stands out compared to the rest of us; I think she might have had Irish parents, because they all have red hair.
Some boys over at the exercising field are staring this way. Sigh. I understand why: even I have to admit she's pretty. And at her fourteen years old, she just has that bit of mature charm that takes you in, plumbing be damned.
"But they treat me like their own daughter. Do you understand? They want me to grow up. And be happy."
I take just a moment to look at her chest when she mentions 'growing up', and she's definitely growing.
Would Nii-san ogle her like those boys do?
I feel my cheeks heat up, and respond angrily to hide my embarassment.
"They want me to forget! And then to replace! To forget about mom, and about dad, and about Nii-san.."
Tears are coming out again; I can feel them struggle to escape my eyes. Dangit!
"No! They don't."
Without my noticing, she has stood up from her swing and used her larger frame to catch my swinging posture from behind. Those two arms wrap around me from behind. Her face is close to mine, resting on my shoulder.
She doesn't do anything but hold me. If it were not for her grip, I'd slip from the swing: she stopped it from moving when it was at the apex of its backwards swing.
The tears run down. She cannot see.
She probably knows. So I just sit there, and I allow the thoughts to run in my mind.
I used to hold onto Nii-san like this.
If he were here, would he hold me like this?
Nii-san... is not here.