Part 2 – Step into the Past

"Hey Haruka!" someone calls urgently from behind. "Snap out of it!" It is Elsa. And just in time too. At that moment, a hard object was flying straight for my face, and I had just a split second to dodge it before it came into contact. Phew. That was too close for comfort.

"Sorry about that, man," the boy says, running past me to get the ball, stopping only for a brief pat on my shoulder.

"Hey, are you alright?" Elsa asks, coming up behind the boy. "If that soccer ball had hit you in the face—what's gotten into you?"

"Nothing," I lie, a little beat. "I think I'm going to sit this out." I brush past her and walk toward the benches without waiting for a reply.

"But the game-" she protests, but thinks better of it. Resigning, she goes back to the game.

Sitting with my legs stretched out before me and leaning on the backboard with my hands behind my head, I close my eyes with a soft sigh. Yes, what has gotten into me? Was my head always stuck in a cloud? Heh. It's almost sad. It's been years—nine to be exact—yet the memories still hang immovably in the air. I don't know why, but I keep thinking about her. She chases my thoughts during the day and haunts my dreams during lonely nights. I used to think that I could find her again—really, I did— but maybe I was just young and naïve. Maybe it was just a foolish child's dream and one that has overstayed its welcome. I have tried dating other girls many times in the past, but there was always a lack of chemistry—a…a kind of magic. And so it always ended badly. Once I went out with this red-head—her name was Janette—from gym class and boy was she a looker. We flirted quite a lot during class and it was not a surprise that we ended up dating. Man, was that a mistake. She turned out to be the biggest airhead on the block. All she could go on about was some hot celebrity and she kept asking me if there were lipstick smudges on her teeth. You cannot believe how glad I was when the night was over. I just dropped her off at the front of her house and got the hell out of there. Oh yeah, and then there was Erin. She was at least intelligent and we'd get into some pretty heated discussions in class. Heh. I always love a challenge. So I figured I'd asked her out. Why not? Little did I know that smarts was the only thing going for her. During the entire evening, all she did was babble non-stop about Darwin's theory of evolution. I mean—no offence to Darwin—I like his theory and all, but chewing it over dinner was overkill. I had to feign stomachache just so I could end the night early. Now I avoid these two like the plague. Of course, these were just the two worst scenarios. It wasn't all that bad. I don't have such bad taste or judgement; it's just a little glitch here and there. Then there was Summer. She was cute and smart; she had pretty much everything going for her. Heck, we even made a good couple. But as always, it flopped. Actually, this time it was my fault. But it wasn't like I meant for it to happen! It kind of just…slipped out. We were walking in the park—this was in the evening—and we were asking each other questions, getting to know each other better, you know. Suddenly, after a moment of silence, she asks me almost timidly, "So what kind of girls do you like?"

Now I get this question quite frequently and so I already have a ready response.

"I'm out with you, aren't I?" I say to her as suavely as I could muster, giving her a wink for added measure. Her giggle was soft and shy, but she checked it.

"Seriously. I want to know," she pursued, turning to me earnestly. It looked like she would not give up until she had an answer. I always had a soft spot for pretty-looking girls, but at the same time, I was a little taken aback by her persistence. Her eyes bore into mine searchingly. It was that look that turned me all aflutter. I guess I knew that deep in my heart she wasn't quite the one. She was not Michiru. My flustered silence was enough to give her the answer she wanted, although not one she wanted to hear. We walked on. After a long and agonizing silence, she sighed. She turned to me with a resigned smile.

"So who's the lucky girl?" She inquired, as though unaffected.

"Huh?" I look at her stupidly, still embaressed.

"Well, who is she?" She urged gently, almost teasingly.

"I don't know what you mean—" I told her hesitantly.

"Oh, come on," she pressed coquettishly, nudging me. "To pass on someone like me and not have someone else on your mind? (Here, she smiled mischievously. You have to hand it to her. Even when she loses, she does so stylishly.) You must think me a simpleton."

And so I told her all about my childhood love, my first love, how we met, how we separated. When I was through, I thought she would laugh in my face and tell me what a fool I was, but I was wrong. She just shook her head understandingly and smiled a sad kind of smile. Then she beamed. In an instant, she stood up.

"Well Haruka, I hope you find her!" She said this as cheerily as she could. And with that, and without waiting for a single response from me, she turned around and ran. I thought I detected the glint of a tear from the corner of her eye. It was one of the worst nights of my life. Never have I felt so horrible. Such a sinking feeling. I was glued to where I was standing—not a sound, not even an attempt to chase her. The night air was suddenly astir by a violent wave of cool force. Even the wind was reprimanding me. In the succeeding days, she avoided me like leprosy, while I was trying the opposite. For once. I like her, I really do. I could tell I hurt her deeply, but there was nothing I could really do about it. It would've been worse for me, no, for both of us to go on in a make-believe fantasy. Well, that was that. Sigh. Perhaps I should just give up dating altogether. They always have such bad endings. Why is it that—

"Haruka! Come on, snap out of it. Let's go!" Elsa shouted from down the track. Another thought interrupted. Right on time, Elsa, right on time.

To be continued