Cast & Fall (4 page)

“
I
miss everyone,” Sue blurted.

“
I
know…I miss them, too.”

Our
group had been the sort of shining star out of the many grim days
called high school. Charlie knew everyone too. Though last year, she
was merely an acquaintance. This year we had gotten close when we
both worked as volunteers at Saint Lucia hospital for two weeks.

T
he
bell rang for the last time. I sprinted to my car. I needed to do
some grocery shopping before I got home and didn’t want to get
stuck in traffic; I had a big project that I wanted to get started on
and chores I had been neglecting. I drove faster than usual as I
snaked myself out of the piles of car in front of me. As soon as I
parked in the driveway, I killed the engine and sprinted to set the
timer in the oven.

T
he
following day, Saturday, the weather was unusually spring-like. I was
on my way to visit Andrews and attend the whole day pre-med seminar.
Andrews was on top of my College list for next fall.

“
A”
was in big bold letters. I parked at the arts building next to
admissions after rounding the circled rotunda. The parking lot was
congested and it took a good amount of time to find a spot. I was
glad I decided to leave earlier giving myself plenty of time to find
my way around and tour the school before the long day started.

I
turned my ignition off, pushed my back into my seat, sighed hard and
glanced at the school I would hopefully be attending in a few months.
I stared in silence and tried to picture myself here—walking
the campus and being part of this new surrounding; the structure was
large, old and most of the architectural details as well as its
prominent moldings were original from when the school was built in
the 1930’s.

The
dull, gray color scheme somehow went with how an old school should
look like. But It looked too somber for my taste. The only colors
that stood out were the stained, long and narrow, multi-colored,
leaded glass windows. It had dark moldings that accentuated the sort
of Gothic-theme, three story building. It might have looked more like
a cathedral or even a small ancient castle, rather than anything that
suggested academic. The lack of color didn’t seem stimulating
enough.

Coming
out of my car, the weather suddenly shifted. The charcoal sky
threatened rain, and a swirl of leaves followed me as I walked toward
the massive, intricately carved wooden door, dragging me back to a
pleasant mood. Beautiful autumn shades of yellow, orange, brown and
red were everywhere. I stepped on some of the dry, fallen leaves; I
loved the sound of crackling leaves at the bottom of my feet; I love
fall; I love the smell of cinnamon, pumpkins and caramel apples. It
was a reminder of my childhood, full of happy memories.

As
I pushed the large door handle, after climbing a few steps to get to
the entrance, two students came out rapidly almost knocking me down.
Giggling, they stopped to apologize. I balanced myself and briefly
smiled to let them know I was fine. They hurried their strides and
picked up on their conversation where they had left off.

As
soon as I stepped inside, their muffled echoes completely vanished
replaced by soft, classical music. I curled my lip, surprised by the
unexpected change.

Inside,
my eyes gazed at the unusual welcoming atmosphere. It was Grand.
Open.
Vivid.
This
is pretty spectacular.
My
eyes flickered to the open hall with majestic domed ceiling, painted
like some
Venetian
artwork. I walked
a couple of steps on the white, marble-like floor and stopped at
something unexpected; In the middle of the grand room sat a massive,
twenty foot wide intricate white statue. I couldn’t distinguish
the piece of art at first. It looked too busy at first glance.

As
I assessed all its prominent details and stared at it longer, I began
to see the intricately carved men—all tangled up together:
Vines twisting. A dragon. A serpent, and snakes—all intertwined
together in a whirl. I couldn’t help myself, and I
automatically and delicately brushed the palm of my hand on the
polished, smooth curves of the stone. It felt hard, cold and looked
very much alive—like it could jump out at any moment.

The
details were impressive. I couldn‘t help but be in awe of the
amount of artistic talent and time that was involved in creating such
a piece; all the creatures showing agony, despair, hate and even
love—radiating from their expressions. Their faces all seem to
capture their deep emotions so clearly. It was beautiful in a strange
way that I have forgotten for a brief moment that I was standing at a
school and not some ancient museum.

I
swept my eyes on the sides of the room—at the grand narrowing
staircases on each side, against the curved rounded walls—were
casings of beautiful, colorful paintings from different eras as well
as some that were obviously done by students from the school.

Behind
the large statue, the entrance continued on to the back hall to the
many rooms on the first floor. I headed toward the steps as I admired
the paintings that were hung, rising as I glided to the top.

Intricate
swirls and bold designs accentuated the thick, sturdy, colorful rug
under my feet, draping throughout the massive steps that guided me to
the path to the many rooms up above.

Walking
slowly, I continually brushed in admiration all the beautiful replica
paintings from different centuries. Reaching the top, I saw a girl
walk in room 204. I quickly followed her.
I wondered if anyone
would notice?
I Came into a large room that resembled a vintage
theater. I quickly sat on the back next to a girl that wore her hair
in a bun and had glasses; she seemed friendly—maybe even smart.
She briefly glanced and smiled at me as I sat next to her, probably
wondering what I was doing there. But the crowd was pretty big and I
doubt, everyone knew everybody.

It
was dark and the projector was on. The class was viewing slide-shows
of artist’s paintings and sculptures. I took my notepad,
slightly sketching some of the drawings matching them with the
artist. Barely fifteen minutes passed and before I knew it, the
projector stopped and the lights turned on. I was walking out with
the class. The girl I sat next to politely introduced herself. She
walked out with me as I hurried to admissions office.

After
I had gotten a map and some information papers, I went to see where
the cafeteria was. I decided to grab the sandwich I purchased and
took out my route to continue the rest of my tour. Passing the
athletic department, I stumbled upon a beautiful botanical garden and
was glad I found an unexpected peaceful sanctuary. I sat down on one
of the small benches.

Realizing
the clear sky had returned, my eyes suddenly noticed the beautiful
and peaceful setting. The vibrant nature landscaping which was a
perfect contrast to the dull buildings—which now looked like
they blended together harmoniously. I felt a spark of serenity engulf
me—kind of like that cozy feeling you feel when you hear a
familiar song back from your childhood.

A
few minutes had passed before I grabbed my phone to check the time—It
was eight thirty. I was glad I had another half an hour. I didn‘t
want to leave yet—the smell of flowers tickled my nose; patches
of color where everywhere—beautiful violets scattered between
rocks in varying sizes and textures. Wildflowers grazed some of the
flat grounds as well as the distinct bold colors that grew on
terrains. There were ponds with lilies. Cascades of blooms hung
thickly under the lush of greens that bordered the maze-like
perimeter. Being here made me feel extra ordinarily peaceful. I felt
very grown up. I could definitely get use to this.

Blazing
H
ot
,
Ice
Cold
Eyes

I
walked
about two buildings down to the medical building. The path that led
to the whitewash hall was long and narrow. As I entered a massive
room, full of aspiring medical students, an immediate shock of
adrenaline spiked through and coursed through my veins.

I
instantly spotted someone familiar—someone I thought I would
never cross paths with again. It felt almost strange how my eye
automatically flickered in
his
direction—like
my sixth sense had kicked in at the mere proximity of his presence.
The room was large and practically full, but my eye automatically
went to
him
almost
instinctively.

Although
I couldn’t see his face—his dark brown, thick, wild, but
all too perfect hair caught my eye; It was a couple of inches high,
smoothly swept to the back, though several strands had managed to
bend in different directions, making me realize that no gel or
hairspray had held it.
Keep
calm. He probably won’t even notice you.
My
thoughts were conflicted. My stomach twisted—wrenching tighter.
My anxiety building. I stopped breathing for a brief second and
gulped dryly. My throat burned hot. My lips felt cracked, I moisten
them, biting inward.

From
the corner of my eye, I focused on him again. One of his hands were
on a tight grip, the other was busy writing something on a sketchbook
or maybe a journal. It reminded me of my mother’s journal. He
was sketching so intently that he never gazed up in my direction to
see who had gone in.

As
I assessed him further, I felt a thud in my heart—strong—almost
violent. Something inside me, felt very much intimidated by him, and
after the encounter we had a couple of days ago, being in the same
room was the last thing I was prepared for.

What
are the chances of him being in here? I thought. I quickly shoved my
shallow suspicion—realizing that his presence might have been
an easy coincidence.
Maybe
he won’t really remember the incident…or me
.
I felt a little torn by the thought. A part of me wanted to know more
about him. But something in me was genuinely afraid—really—really
afraid. What a strange thing to feel.

And
even though, I was intrigued by the mysterious stranger, I decided
not to fill my curiosity—instead, I quickly rationalized the
reasons why I should avoid him.
I
bet he was used to all sorts of attention from girls, knowing that he
was insanely good looking. I wasn’t afraid of him either,
obviously he had issues about something that I knew nothing about and
his response before was purely automatic, after all I almost scalded
him—
I
began to convince myself.

As
I was processing the logic in my head, I quickly headed
inconspicuously toward the east corner of the room. He was sitting on
the second row in front, on the west side. There were still a lot of
seats available which was a good thing. I breathed a little relieved.

But
as I was about to make my way toward the opposite side of the room, I
noticed several stack of papers on a long wooden desk in front that
clearly I needed to pick up before I sat down. Passing in his
direction, I hurried my stride to grab them, sprinting quickly to
avoid catching his attention before I could head to one of the empty
seats.

But
as I passed, his glare caught me. From the corner of my eye, I could
see the muscle on his jaw strain, tightening like a knot. His heated
eyes furious and as dark as the mysteries buried within its
depths—which followed me all the way to where I sat.

I
quickly scanned his face again for confirmation—trying to make
sure I was seeing everything clearly. Knowing full well that his
reaction was aggressive, I stared at him boldly in protest. I wasn’t
about to let anyone push me around.
Is
he for real? Why is he staring at me for? That’s impolite!

But
as I met his gaze, he shot me a look that seemed to cut through me,
penetrating deeper. Unexplained horror washed over me. Feeling the
rush of adrenaline pulse to every vein in my body. I automatically
stiffened, clawing the wooden desk from under my fingers.

He
held the look with the obvious hate filled stare that no one would
dare hold this long. But as aggressive as his gaze was, I couldn’t
help but be drawn to his mesmerizing eyes. His eyes held the kind of
magnetic heat that made me melt—pulling me to him, and at the
same time, as tempting as that heat was, a coldness that triggered
the flight instinct in me and I was in two opposing sides with
myself—a very strange feeling I had never felt before.