Cast & Fall (3 page)

As
I pushed the door aggressively, I looked at my notes again; coffee on
my left and papers on my right, I pushed the side of my body to open
the door. I barely let go of the glass and metal exit when—I
slammed into something—or rather someone, and to my horror, I
spilled some of the hot beverage.

Oh
crap! Why can’t people stay out of my way? I quickly yanked my
thought of irritation. I was worried—worried that I have
scalded some poor soul. I automatically apologized and blinked to the
scattered pages that whirled around me; my eyes flickered to the
coffee that spilled on the ground and on my hand—and was glad
that it spilled on me rather than on someone else.

As
I tried to wipe my hand with a napkin, I felt something strange
descending upon me—almost instantly. A flush of simultaneous
brush of chill and heat rose on the back of my neck, raising the
hairs in them, trickling all the way somewhere inside me, deep
within.

I
assessed it briefly, trying to decipher the unusual sensation I
suddenly felt. Definitely, It wasn’t a strange feeling from the
morning cold weather, nor even perhaps from the burning heat of the
mocha, but instead, the chill felt icy, like the dead of winter cold,
followed by a sudden wave of desert heat, and an unusual feeling of
déjà vu.

I
automatically stared at the stranger’s eyes. His bright and
very intimidating, slate gray eyes were stunning. It bored into me. I
found it hard to look away, I froze solid. The only thing I could
move were my lips that started to feel heavy—feeling almost
numb.

“
Do…I…know…you…from…somewhere?”
I whispered the words so slowly I felt like I was in slow motion. He
seemed familiar to me, though I knew with absolute certainty, I have
never met him before.

“
I.
don’t. believe. so.” His firm, formal, smooth and velvet
voice pierced through me, locking me in a daze.

Looking
at his eyes, I felt I could see through an endless tunnel—mysterious
and mesmerizing. Our eyes locked for a moment. His face had the most
interesting expression. He looked really surprised. Confused. Shocked
even. Then something strange descended upon me. I caught a strange
scent; it was very subtle and I couldn’t quite make any
connection to it; it only lasted for the briefest of moments.

My
mind spun automatically to my memory, pulling things out at random.
But I drew nothing, except a vague hint of familiarity—surfacing
just at the edge of my mind; everything felt out of
reach—disappearing swiftly.

The
stranger stood still—motionless—staring with the most
unusual expression. “I’m pretty sure I’ve seen you
before, maybe from…” I slowly whispered, trying with
great effort to recollect a stash of memory in some hidden place in
my subconscious. My voice sounded robotic, trying to hold my words in
place as I stared at his
impossibly
perfect face.

“
Look
Miss, I told you, I have never met you before.” He cut me off
without warning. His eyes fierce. His razor sharp voice sent an
automatic panic in me. Heat rushed inside my chest—constricting
my breath. I gasped at the way my heart tightened.

Embarrassed,
afraid and emotions that I couldn‘t quite describe, I picked up
my papers that I dropped on the ground. As I was gathering my
scattered pages, I began to gather my thoughts as well; he was
extremely good looking, I just blushed automatically. I didn’t
know if it was obvious to him, but I felt a sudden gush of heat
moving toward my face—a rare occurrence for me. I was never a
boy-crazy type of girl and certainly looks was not something I get
weak in the knees for. There were always cute boys in high school and
I never had this kind of reaction.

But
there was a stronger, deeper attraction I felt for him—the kind
that was unnatural to feel for someone who I just met for the first
time—I didn‘t know why and I didn’t understand what
it was.

Knowing
full well that he was still standing so stiff in front of me, I hid
my eyes cowardly and cleared my throat.
“
I’m
sorry, I just thought I knew you from…” And before I
could finish my sentence—and what had seemed like a blink of an
eye—I only caught the back of his head, black shirt and the
black pants he was wearing—he was ten feet away.

I
took down my gaze to hide my sudden embarrassment. Still feeling
confused about my reaction, I looked quickly on both corner of my
eyes, scanning swiftly to check if there was anybody who witnessed
what just happened—
No
one did.
Everyone
seemed to have been preoccupied—minding their own business.

Two
women coming toward my direction were intently chattering and the man
earlier in a dark suit came out in such a rush he barely noticed
anyone. He was about a foot away when he noticed me and finally found
the time to briefly smile and wish me a pleasant day.

Locked
from where my feet were still planted, I tried to rationalize the
mysterious stranger’s reaction—though, what baffled me
more was that—I couldn’t quite figure out my own.

T
he
third hour had been relatively repetitive and long. I pushed my back
against the wooden seat as my mind briefly focused on the test
questions I might have missed, but the stranger kept interrupting my
thoughts, popping in my head like an
old
recorder. I was more than annoyed.
Who
is he that I should think of him?

My
thoughts were caught up in the facts of his mysterious reaction, his
absurdly handsome face and the familiar feeling that seemed strangely
foreign. My thoughts of him wouldn’t let up. I couldn’t
focus much into anything else so I decided to shove the effort and
let my mind continually wander—repeating the encounter over and
over in my head as if I was going to suddenly unlock something
hidden.

The
babbles of lecture continued to drift outside my hearing. I tried to
look engaged as much as I could—focusing my eyes on the
instructor’s moving lips, looking down at my notebook,
scribbling round circles, and occasionally brushing my hair away from
my face.

After
half an hour of repeated movements, I caught the teacher’s
attention.
Stupid
stranger,
I mumbled to myself irritated. I had to ask Mr. Stover to repeat the
question before I could give my wrong answer. Realizing that he
probably won’t call on me for a while, my mind continued on my
restless thoughts for another half hour.

I
t
was twelve o’clock. Finally, half of the day is done, but
still, it felt longer than it should. It didn’t seem strangely
odd anymore that I always felt like I had been waiting for
something—some huge change that would take me away from my
monotonous life, though, I wasn’t sure if I was entirely
convinced that I had a boring life. I had plenty of friends—most
of them, graduated four months ago and we all had an amazing time
this past summer.

My
left hand anchored my chin up on top of my wooden desk as the last
five minutes continued to drag on endlessly. The day was beginning to
wear on me. I still felt tired from the nightmares that kept me awake
for most of the night. I should be used to it by now, but as always,
I can never get used to the panic I feel—the feeling of
vulnerability that sends my world shifting to some alternate reality.

But
even with the nightmares, I couldn’t wait until I got back home
and lay my head on my soft cushy pillows. I pondered how it would
feel like to wear my lime green, fuzzy slippers and wear my favorite
soft, pink robe and do a snow angel on my large bed after soaking on
a long warm bubble bath.

I
miss my room already. My room had been my friend away from the chaos
of the world. When I turned sixteen, I decided to do a makeover on my
girl-pad. It took me a while to change anything. My mother had picked
out most items in my bedroom, and felt, changing even one thing was
something I couldn’t deal with for a very long time. But it was
time.

My
friends all came over to help me transform my little girl pink room
to a more grown up, eclectic modern style. I loved color and my room
reflected all of that; the wall on the west corner were piled up with
sepia toned photographs taken from several trips. Paintings from my
old art classes hung next to them. Two walls were painted a muted
Caribbean blue. I replaced my bed from single to a queen size with a
velvet, tufted headboard. Sheets and comforters were a combination
and mixtures of eclectic, bold colors and different textures; sateen,
lavender bedspreads, fuzzy, lime green blankets, accent pillows of
silver, purple, blue, orange and different darker shades of pink. I
love pillows; I have about ten or maybe even twenty of them—of
different shapes and sizes.

I
also have many different patterned blankets for when my
girl-friends
spent
the night. A fat and fuzzy lime green chair sat in front of the
bookcase on the west side of the room. On the east side was a large
window with velvet drapes with the same patterned bold colors as the
bedding.

Next
to the door sat a large work station table which housed my computer,
printer, papers, small coordinating boxes and a large collection of
pen, pencils, erasers, which some were given by my friend Airi, who
also happened to love collecting anything cute and adorable.

There
were photographs of my mom, Steve and I, taken on several trips we’ve
gone to—including a photograph of my mother and I in our
garden. Next to the desk was a medium sized cabinet with drawers full
of art supplies—from designer papers, stickers, ribbons and
little knickknacks from the craft stores, my collection of
squishies
and wind up toys, to every little trinket you can imagine.

I
was glad I had a large room, being an only child gave me that
advantage. Steve had knocked down the wall that separated the two
adjacent rooms and made it into a larger space to accommodate my ever
increasing craft collection. I was glad Steve was such a handy man
and I didn‘t need to feel guilty about him spending money on
manual labor. He loved working on projects that usually involved
using his collection of power tools.

As
the class came to it’s conclusion, I heard my stomach growl…and
so did everybody else. My impatient stomach always have a way of
embarrassing me. I heard faint giggles in the background.

Grabbing
my bag, I headed to the cafeteria to meet Sue. Last year, there had
been thirteen of us at the cafeteria table and sometimes at the quad.
But this year, I had Sue, Charlie and Eddie to sit with.

Entering
the large hall-like room, I spotted Sue immediately. The cafeteria
was less crowded than usual. There was a rally that kept most
students outdoors. I wanted to stay indoors though. The gong-like
noise from the band always made my nail-hammering headache
intolerable. Sue was already on our usual seat, poking her mushy
cafeteria mashed potatoes like she was digging to find some precious
metal.

“
Hey…guess
we’re missing out on the fun outside.” I whispered.

“
Nah…The
sun’s out…don’t really feel like wrinkling,”
she griped as she dug her fork back in.

Placing
my purse on top of the table, I took out my now flattened sandwich on
the table from my bag. Picking at it with my fingers absentmindedly,
I shoved tiny pieces in my mouth, a usual tendency when I feel
anxious—though, I wasn’t quite sure why, I did pretty
well on the test.

“
Stop
that…it really bugs me,” Sue yelled in her high shrilled
tone.

“
Only
you…would need…twenty-four hours to eat a sandwich.”

I
laughed and ignored her. I continued pinching my bread in little
pieces, avoiding casually each bite from her parental scrutiny. Then
from the corner of my eye, I spotted Charlie as she rolled in with
Eddie. “Why are we sitting in here?” Charlie complained.

“
Oh…I
can’t really stand the noise…I have very sensitive
ears.” Charlie looked at Eddie and lifted her eyebrows like she
didn’t believe me. “It’s true,” Sue
countered. “Kat suffers from dizzy spells…I think she
has an equilibrium problem.” They all glared at me—I
guess, waiting for some clarification. I half smiled, not really
wanting to go into detail about it with her.

“
I
don’t want to hold you guys though, if you want to sit
outside.” I suggested. “Actually we were just
outside…we’re not missing much… we’ll just
sit here…I gotta finish homework anyway.” Charlie took
out a bag of trail mix and twisted the cap of her bottled soda. She
shook her head and fluffed it; her hair, lush with natural curls, her
deep brown skin, glowing, her nails done. I could see a whole spread
of her in
Seventeen
magazine. Eddie is
her boyfriend and had been her shadow. He was good in Math and we
were all glad we had the same class together.