Art & Soul
Page 25
“What CD is this?” she asked.
“It’s a mix that I made at my uncle’s house over the weekend. It has all my favorites. First song is ‘Open Rhythms’ by Bodies Of Water.” I bent my knees, placing the soles of my shoes on the seat in front of me.
As the song started playing, I relaxed into the seat, lifted my fingers, and played my air guitar intensely, making her giggle.
She didn’t say anything else, so I had to take in the subtle clues that a person always gave when enjoying good music.
Her foot started tapping.
Her body started rocking.
She closed her eyes with a smile.
She lost herself in it, and I couldn’t have been happier.
* * *
After first hour calculus, I walked up to Aria and drummed my fingers against her desk. “I think it’s nice that you laugh at Mr. Jones’ terrible jokes.” I smirked.
“What are you talking about? Mr. Jones’ jokes are classic. And I fear being seen talking to anyone who cannot appreciate a good nerdy math joke.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “So that’s what does it for you? Bad math puns? Really?”
She nodded. “Not everyone can be as cool as Mr. Jones,” she said, sliding her books into her backpack as she stood from the desk. I always walked her to her locker after class, and for a while she complained, but after some time, I think she kind of liked it.
Clearing my throat, I puffed out my chest. “Well, I’m just going to put this out there: I’m not trying to be obtuse, but you’re acute girl.”
“Ohmygosh, stop, Levi, that’s terrible.” She chuckled.
“I don’t know if you’re in my range, but I’d sure like to take you back to my domain.” I followed my first bad math joke with an even worse one, making her laugh even harder.
“That was awful, just stop. Go away.”
I gripped the straps of my backpack with a large grin. I started walking backward, keeping my eyes on her. “Okay, I’m going. But I want you to know that this thing between us, it’s powerful. There’s no word to express this new found connection we have, Aria. It’s like dividing by zero…you can’t define it.”
* * *
I got some crap from a few people for not eating at the popular table during lunchtime, but I didn’t care because Aria smiled at me as I walked toward her table.
“Thaumaturge,” she said, unpacking her lunch.
“Oh wow, thanks. I think you’re pretty good lookin’ too, Aria,” I replied, sitting down across from her.
“What?!” Her cheeks blushed over. Whenever she was nervous, she placed her thumb between her teeth and broke eye contact.
“Sorry, I always assume when pretty girls use big words, it’s a term of flirtation.”
“Well, it’s not.”
“Keep telling yourself that. Okay, say the word again.”
“Thaumaturge,” she repeated. “I downloaded this dictionary app on my phone last night and that was the word of the day.”
“And the meaning?”
“A worker of wonders or miracles. A magician.”
“Okay, three things to say on this subject. One, what a badass word. Two, what a badass definition. Three, it’s a little sexy that you have a dictionary app.”
She blushed some more and I loved it. “Anyway, so each day, I get a new word.”
“Let me see that.” She handed me her phone. I scrolled through it and started typing.
“What are you doing?”
“Adding my number so you’ll text me the new word if it’s something brilliant, but we aren’t together. And now I’m memorizing your number so I can text you all of my brilliant thoughts and knowledge on the world as a whole.”
“Oh, I look forward to a complete in-depth explanation as to why the chicken crossed the road.” Before I could reply to her sarcastic remark, Simon came walking up to the table like a zombie and plopped down.
“You okay, Simon?” I asked. Aria gave him the same worrisome expression I was delivering.
“I missed first hour,” he muttered.
Aria’s hand landed over her heart. “Oh no!”
A chuckle passed through me as I took a bite of something that was slimy and kind of gray; the lunch ladies were trying to pass it off as turkey and gravy, but they weren’t fooling me. It was pig slop. “So? I’ve missed whole days. Aria has missed weeks.”
“I had the flu!” she argued. I gave her a half smile. Her lips turned up.
“No…you don’t understand. I missed first hour,” Simon said, pounding his head against the palms of his hands.
“Simon has never, ever, ever missed a day of school. Not even a class. He has a perfect record,” Aria explained.
“Had,” he corrected. “Had. Had. Had!”
His face was turning red with irritation and even though I should’ve known it wasn’t the right time to ask him, I really needed to know exactly why he was late. “Did you oversleep or something?”
“What? No. Never. I set four different alarm clocks. But, when I was in the kitchen this morning, I had a twitch in my hand while pouring my orange juice and the whole container dropped, spilling everywhere.”
“Oh no!” Aria said, her hand flying over her mouth. I didn’t understand. They were acting as if Simon was announcing he’d murdered someone in cold blood.
“Yup.” Simon nodded, his eyes shifting away from any form of eye contact. “It went everywhere. My dad already left for work, and Mom was off to a doctor’s appointment.”
“You should’ve called me,” Aria scolded her best friend. For…spilling orange juice…?
“I couldn’t. I was scrubbing away.”
“It’s not really that big of a deal. Don’t let it get to ya,” I said, chugging my chocolate milk.
“Not a big deal?” he argued, raising his voice an octave. “Not a big deal?! I had a perfect record! It was perfect! And now…” His head fell to the table, and he groaned some more. “Now I’m just imperfect.”
I was having a hard time telling if Simon was being serious or not. I couldn’t imagine ever having a complete meltdown over missing one class period. Heck, I would’ve actually been ecstatic to miss first hour calculus.
While I continued to eat my mystery lunch and Aria comforted her distressed friend, I looked up to see the same girl I’d seen the day before at the hospital. Her face was paler than it had been, but she was moving as quick as ever with her tray in her hand.
“It’s a mix that I made at my uncle’s house over the weekend. It has all my favorites. First song is ‘Open Rhythms’ by Bodies Of Water.” I bent my knees, placing the soles of my shoes on the seat in front of me.
As the song started playing, I relaxed into the seat, lifted my fingers, and played my air guitar intensely, making her giggle.
She didn’t say anything else, so I had to take in the subtle clues that a person always gave when enjoying good music.
Her foot started tapping.
Her body started rocking.
She closed her eyes with a smile.
She lost herself in it, and I couldn’t have been happier.
* * *
After first hour calculus, I walked up to Aria and drummed my fingers against her desk. “I think it’s nice that you laugh at Mr. Jones’ terrible jokes.” I smirked.
“What are you talking about? Mr. Jones’ jokes are classic. And I fear being seen talking to anyone who cannot appreciate a good nerdy math joke.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “So that’s what does it for you? Bad math puns? Really?”
She nodded. “Not everyone can be as cool as Mr. Jones,” she said, sliding her books into her backpack as she stood from the desk. I always walked her to her locker after class, and for a while she complained, but after some time, I think she kind of liked it.
Clearing my throat, I puffed out my chest. “Well, I’m just going to put this out there: I’m not trying to be obtuse, but you’re acute girl.”
“Ohmygosh, stop, Levi, that’s terrible.” She chuckled.
“I don’t know if you’re in my range, but I’d sure like to take you back to my domain.” I followed my first bad math joke with an even worse one, making her laugh even harder.
“That was awful, just stop. Go away.”
I gripped the straps of my backpack with a large grin. I started walking backward, keeping my eyes on her. “Okay, I’m going. But I want you to know that this thing between us, it’s powerful. There’s no word to express this new found connection we have, Aria. It’s like dividing by zero…you can’t define it.”
* * *
I got some crap from a few people for not eating at the popular table during lunchtime, but I didn’t care because Aria smiled at me as I walked toward her table.
“Thaumaturge,” she said, unpacking her lunch.
“Oh wow, thanks. I think you’re pretty good lookin’ too, Aria,” I replied, sitting down across from her.
“What?!” Her cheeks blushed over. Whenever she was nervous, she placed her thumb between her teeth and broke eye contact.
“Sorry, I always assume when pretty girls use big words, it’s a term of flirtation.”
“Well, it’s not.”
“Keep telling yourself that. Okay, say the word again.”
“Thaumaturge,” she repeated. “I downloaded this dictionary app on my phone last night and that was the word of the day.”
“And the meaning?”
“A worker of wonders or miracles. A magician.”
“Okay, three things to say on this subject. One, what a badass word. Two, what a badass definition. Three, it’s a little sexy that you have a dictionary app.”
She blushed some more and I loved it. “Anyway, so each day, I get a new word.”
“Let me see that.” She handed me her phone. I scrolled through it and started typing.
“What are you doing?”
“Adding my number so you’ll text me the new word if it’s something brilliant, but we aren’t together. And now I’m memorizing your number so I can text you all of my brilliant thoughts and knowledge on the world as a whole.”
“Oh, I look forward to a complete in-depth explanation as to why the chicken crossed the road.” Before I could reply to her sarcastic remark, Simon came walking up to the table like a zombie and plopped down.
“You okay, Simon?” I asked. Aria gave him the same worrisome expression I was delivering.
“I missed first hour,” he muttered.
Aria’s hand landed over her heart. “Oh no!”
A chuckle passed through me as I took a bite of something that was slimy and kind of gray; the lunch ladies were trying to pass it off as turkey and gravy, but they weren’t fooling me. It was pig slop. “So? I’ve missed whole days. Aria has missed weeks.”
“I had the flu!” she argued. I gave her a half smile. Her lips turned up.
“No…you don’t understand. I missed first hour,” Simon said, pounding his head against the palms of his hands.
“Simon has never, ever, ever missed a day of school. Not even a class. He has a perfect record,” Aria explained.
“Had,” he corrected. “Had. Had. Had!”
His face was turning red with irritation and even though I should’ve known it wasn’t the right time to ask him, I really needed to know exactly why he was late. “Did you oversleep or something?”
“What? No. Never. I set four different alarm clocks. But, when I was in the kitchen this morning, I had a twitch in my hand while pouring my orange juice and the whole container dropped, spilling everywhere.”
“Oh no!” Aria said, her hand flying over her mouth. I didn’t understand. They were acting as if Simon was announcing he’d murdered someone in cold blood.
“Yup.” Simon nodded, his eyes shifting away from any form of eye contact. “It went everywhere. My dad already left for work, and Mom was off to a doctor’s appointment.”
“You should’ve called me,” Aria scolded her best friend. For…spilling orange juice…?
“I couldn’t. I was scrubbing away.”
“It’s not really that big of a deal. Don’t let it get to ya,” I said, chugging my chocolate milk.
“Not a big deal?” he argued, raising his voice an octave. “Not a big deal?! I had a perfect record! It was perfect! And now…” His head fell to the table, and he groaned some more. “Now I’m just imperfect.”
I was having a hard time telling if Simon was being serious or not. I couldn’t imagine ever having a complete meltdown over missing one class period. Heck, I would’ve actually been ecstatic to miss first hour calculus.
While I continued to eat my mystery lunch and Aria comforted her distressed friend, I looked up to see the same girl I’d seen the day before at the hospital. Her face was paler than it had been, but she was moving as quick as ever with her tray in her hand.
