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I TOLD YOU I DID SOMETHING :'D

3

kyo

The next morning was something akin to dreadful. I didn't feel rested or rejuvenated or like I had gained anything, really. Especially an answer. I spent a good portion of my time staring at the black paper on my desk. It was supposed to be the wish, right? 1,000 paper cranes, just to get me to a dance? What would he do with them all?

I took the paper, staring at the words. White on black, the request begged me: answer, answer, answer! I tried to follow it's bends to fold it back into the small paper bird it had once been. But, like Matt said, I knew nothing about the art of origami and so wound up giving up quite quickly. How was I supposed to answer? There had to be an answer. Don't they say something like 'the right answer is the easiest to find because you don't need to think about it?' That was too damn hard! How could I not think about it? How do I stop myself from thinking about it?

There were no classes (for some reason like 'people won't concentrate') so I had the whole day to ponder this new development. I got up and got dressed in my usual dark attire, tucking the black paper in my pocket before stepping out of my room.

It was early, but Matt was already on the couch, watching TV - although he hadn't bothered to get dressed. I examined the cartoon he was watching, briefly wondering how I could take the confession of a teenage who still woke up early to watch children's cartoons seriously. He turned to me, catching me off guard, before his hand went to the cigarette between his lips.

"Sorry...," he murmured. He didn't sound like he's gotten very much sleep.

I held up a hand. "Don't worry about it. I'm going out for a while."

Even through his goggles I could see the distressed look on his face. "Mel-"

"Don't look at me like that." I smiled. "It's not like I'm leaving because I'm uncomfortable being around you or some BS like that." I could see he doubted my words, probably all the more because I actually said them. "I have stuff to do."

"Stuff?"

"Stuff." Okay, so all the stuff I had to do had to do with Matt. But I didn't tell him this.

"Okay...," he agreed. "I'll... um, see you? Later?"

"Yeah. I'll be back in a while," I assured. "Don't forget to eat. Don't you dare die before I get back."

He smiled - albeit weakly - and nodded. "I won't. You're going to the cafeteria?"

"Yeah, I guess." I smiled, although it felt like a forced counter action to the sad smile Matt had given me. I didn't like the feeling, so I wiped it away, before I realized that it might of looked strange to so suddenly stop smiling, so I tried to bring it back. After deciding I must have looked like a complete fool, I gave up and left. The feeling of walking out the door left a sour taste in my mouth. When had I accustomed myself to feeling like I was chasing after Matt? To the point that I actually felt weird to walk away from him at all. It was pretty pathetic on my part.

So I went to the cafeteria and got halfway through my meal before Linda showed up to question me on every little thing. Were we going to the dance, where was Matt, what was I doing, was Matt going to the dance, was I okay, I looked distracted, tell her if I found out if we were going to the dance, stop being such a stiff and just go. As soon as I saw an opening, I took it and escaped to the library. Even if someone wanted to talk to me, they couldn't. Our librarians were very strict about the noise level in the library at all times. So take that, I thought at anyone who might have anything to say to me.

I lasted what felt like an hour in the library before my mind concluded that I really wasn't getting anywhere with the whole thinking thing. I wasn't supposed to be thinking, I reprimanded myself. I was supposed to be letting the answer come to me. How do you even start to let the answer come to you? How can you tell when the answer is there? How do you not mistake it for a rushed wrong answer you forced out subconsciously?

The overbearing silence wasn't helping, either. It didn't make it the least bit easier to smother my thoughts. In fact, they only grew louder and louder. I was about ready to start pulling out my hair when Yoji stopped among the bookshelves to smile at me. I grimaced back, although somewhere deep down I was relieved with the distraction.

Thinking? He mouthed.

No, I answered, wishing it was true. Why?

You looked lost. He answered the same easy look on his face. Just checking.

I nodded a little. He gave my hair a ruffle before walking off again to disappear into the books, carrying a pile with him that started with the mechanics of cars and ended with what looked like an Italian cookbook, but it was all written in Italian or Spanish or something, so I couldn't really tell.

It didn't take long after he left for my mind to grow weary again. I silently hoped Yoji might pass by again, handing me one of his easy smiles that kind of pissed me off and made me think why can't I be like that? He didn't pass by again, though. I watched the door, now praying for a distraction. I don't know how long I stayed, but it must have been hours. A few kids I didn't know entered and exited. I never saw Yoji leave, but I know he didn't pass me again. I stayed until the librarians declared it was time for their lunch break - and ours, too. Two kids and I left then - neither of which was Yoji. They both gave me strange looks, like I didn't belong there. Which I didn't. I belonged in my room, cramming words, pictures and knowledge down my own throat so I could beat Near. I didn't belong running around the school, wasting my precious time, trying to think about not thinking. Matt was changing too much of me much too much. How was I going to revert back after this? Would I be able to? Would I be completely different, or would I just adapt to the same things in a different way? And for fuck's sake, what the hell was my answer? I had tons of new questions and absolutely no new answers.

I went back to the cafeteria for lunch. I saw Linda again, but she only waved. Chubs stopped for only a minute to ask if I'd seen Linda - she actually wound up ditching and hanging out on the roof, I found out later. Erity was the one who sat down across from me. I prepared myself to have my meal disturbed as it always was. But after a few moments, she was still sitting quietly across from me, rubbing her eyes sleepily and glancing around like she was looking for something. I finished all of my food before she said anything.

"Matt?" I could hardly hear her quiet voice over the noise of the cafeteria.

"Not here," I answered curtly.

"Yeah...?" she murmured. "Are you fighting?"

"No," I huffed. "What makes you say that?"

"You," she answered. "Are you fighting?" she asked again, as if I hadn't answered.

"No," I repeated. "Not really," I revised.

"You're just avoiding each other?"

"What? It's not like we're always together. He usually doesn't eat here. We aren't avoiding each other," I mumbled back.

"You're just avoiding each other?" she asked again, once more like she hadn't heard me at all.

"Not really," I mumbled again. "It just worked that way."

She smiled a little. "That boy did something daring, huh?"

"What...?" I muttered.

"Are you going to keep him waiting? Matt's nature is that which gets lonely quickly." She laughed lightly.

"... You know, there's someone I think you'd get along well with...," I decided, thinking of an easy smile and witty words.

"There's someone I know you get along well with. And right now, he needs you, don't you think?" she answered. I rubbed my neck, trying to think of a way to get advice from Erity without really saying everything.

"Right now... I don't know what to say to Matt. Even if he needs me, I don't know what to give him." That seemed like a good start.

"Isn't the right answer the easiest to find?"

"Yeah." I rolled my eyes. "Saying it is easier than doing it."

She laughed again. "Well, you should just face it, right Mel? You're a confrontational person by nature. If you talk to Matt, I'm sure you'll reach your answer. There's only one right way, right? It's 50/50, shoot or miss. Trust your instincts and whatnot. Go for it, Mel, and see what happens."

"I guess I should," I sighed.

"As it is, I have to find Linda and apologize. My gaming habits finally tripped her and she's quite upset with me." She laughed, standing up. "Good luck, Mel."

"You too," I bid, a bit sarcastically but not harshly.

It felt like it took longer than usual to get to our room. I felt the weirdest urge to knock on the door before remembering it was my fucking room too and I didn't need permission to walk in. Matt wasn't on the couch, and it was ridiculous that I expected him to be in the same spot as when I'd left.

"Matt?" I called, tugging off my shoes. "Did you eat?"

"Yeah." His small voice came from his room. I carefully walked up to the door to softly rap my knuckles against the wood.

"Hey? You gonna come out?"

"No," he answered in something like a whisper.

"You're such a child." I rolled my eyes.

"Yeah," he repeated. I leaned my back against his door, sliding down to the floor and turning my head to press my ear to the wood. There were no sounds from inside. No tacking keyboard, no nervous footsteps, no muffled sounds of him rolling over in his bed. I could picture his room - the way I'd last seen it, with his one computer on the floor at the end of his bed - but I couldn't quite picture Matt and where he might be in that painfully ghostly room. So what would I give to see Matt? A dance? An hour, day, week, month, year? A life? What was I willing to give in that exact second to see Matt laugh or cry or mutter or smile? What could I give?

"Are we ever gonna talk?" I practically chocked on the words as they stuck like Velcro against my throat.

"You want to?"

"Well... yeah," I muttered. "Duh."

The door slowly opened, and I almost fell back with it. I looked up to meet goggled eyes, as usual, and he stared back, a bit startled. "Okay... so... talk," he murmured.

I stood up, brushing myself off. "Yeah... okay..." I swallowed hard. Talk, I dared myself. Talk. He stared at me with a blank expression, and I could tell he must have practiced for it or something, because the Matt I knew wasn't nearly that good at hiding his feelings. It was like a completely different Matt from the one who had taken me to Elsewhere. Some robot who wouldn't get anything I told him because the heart wasn't there. So I had to get Matt back before I proceeded. "You ate?" I asked again. He gave me a funny look, moving to close his door again and lock me out. I shoved my foot in the way.

"Y-yes. I did," he answered (again).

"Good...," I answered lamely. "A-about this... dance thing."

He looked down, avoiding my eyes. Go with the flow, I told myself. Do what the moment says. Follow your intuition.

"It's formal, right? Do you even have a suit?" I murmured.

"I... I probably... what?" He looked back up at me, his brows pulling together. "What?" he repeated for good measure.

"I'm asking if you own a fucking suit," I bit.

"Um... yeah, I... I do..." He tugged at his shirt.

"Then I guess it's like... whatever, right?" I looked to the side.

"Like... whatever?"

"I mean, not whatever. I mean, it's still, like, important. It's not 'whatever.' It's just like... kinda like..."

"Like 'yes?'"

I shrugged.

"Like 'yes, Matt, I'll go to the dance with you?'"

"If you haven't changed your mind." I bit my lip a bit.

He laughed. Like, seriously, laughed. At me. I think. Maybe at himself, a little. But mostly at me. Like something seriously fucking funny had happened. Matt was easy to make laugh, though. So I wondered if that wasn't just it. In any case, he kept laughing. I told him to stop a dozen times, but he just went on like I told the best joke ever. I threatened to leave, and that I wouldn't go to the dance if he kept it up. He just wrapped his arms around me so I couldn't walk away as he continued to laugh. I kinda just had to let it go and allow him to get it out of his system.

Afterwards he told me he'd been laughing out of joy. Out of sheer happiness. I don't really buy it. I still think he was just laughing at me - at least a bit. At my indecisive behavior or something.