Chapter 67
You Don't See Me
Math and social studies dragged by. Helga sat motionless, staring straight ahead at nothing. She didn't even attempt to concentrate on the lesson; she knew she couldn't.
"Okay, who can tell me what an ecosystem is? Helga?"
Helga continued to stare off into space.
"Helga? Helga!"
"What?" she muttered.
"Do you know what an ecosystem is?" Mr. Simmons asked again.
"No."
"Helga, you're not acting like yourself. Would you like to see the nurse?"
"No. I'm fine."
"Well, okay. If you're sure. Can anyone else tell me what an-"
"My contact!" Rhonda suddenly cried. "I've lost my contact lens! Oh, I can't see a thing!"
"Would you like to move up to the front of the room, Rhonda?" Mr. Simmons asked.
"Okay, but just for today. I'll just have my father buy me new contacts when I get home."
"How 'special'. Will anyone in the front row trade seats with Rhonda for a day?"
Arnold, always ready to help someone out, immediately raised his hand.
"Thank you, Arnold, that was very generous of you," Mr. Simmons said.
Arnold stood up to switch seats. He turned around and stopped in his tracks. "Doesn't it just figure," he thought. "Rhonda's sitting right next to Helga."
Helga looked up for half an instant, just long enough for her to catch his stare. She quickly looked away and instead studied the top of her desk. "I hope he didn't see me," she thought worriedly.
"At least she's acknowledged my presence. But is that a good thing? Do I really have to do this?" But he concluded that he did have to, so as not to arise suspicion. He slowly walked down the aisle, feeling like he was walking down death row.
Helga could feel his eyes on her the entire time, but she dared not look up. "Hurry up, football head!" she thought desperately. "Sit in the seat, and get on with your life!"
"How am I going to survive sitting across from her all day?" Arnold thought. He was so caught up in his thoughts that he barley had time to catch himself after he tripped. He hastily grabbed onto Helga's arm to keep from falling. Her head snapped up, and her eyes immediately were drawn to his.
For a few seconds neither one of them spoke. Then Arnold quickly let her go, mumbled "Sorry", and sat down, wondering why on earth he had done that.
"'Sorry'?" Helga wondered. "For what? Bumping into me…or rejecting me?" Her skin burned where he had touched her. Why had he done that? To keep from falling, yes, but couldn't he had just as easily grabbed onto the desk? And why had he looked at her for so long? "Who cares?" she thought. "It's no use having false hope anymore. He made it quite clear that we can never be together." She sadly opened her poetry book for the umpteenth time that day and began to write.
This is the place where I sit.
This is the part where I love you too much.
Is this as hard as it gets?
Cause I'm getting tired of pretending I'm tough.
I'm here if you want me.
I'm yours, you can hold me.
I'm empty and aching
and tumbling and breaking.
Cause you don't see me,
and you don't need me,
and you don't love me
the way I wish you would;
the way I know you could.
I dream a world where you'd understand,
but I dream a million sleepless nights.
I dream of fire when you're touching me hand,
but it twists into smoke when I turn on the light.
I'm speechless and faded.
It's too complicated.
Is this how the book ends,
not even good friends?
This is the place in my heart.
This is the place where I'm falling apart.
I wish this was just where we met
cause that was the last chance that I'll ever get.
I wish I was lonely
instead of just only
crystal and see through
and not enough to you.
She would have gone on feeling sorry for herself, if it wasn't for the fact that the fire alarm rang.