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Sunday, April 14, 2013

The Three Month High

September 26th 2013

                Dear diary Hello Journal,
               
                I kind of wish I’d started writing back when this was all happening. A journal…some memento to hang onto. Now all I have left is a jumble of memories, happy and sad. The best summer of my life and the worst at the same exact time.
                Parents, teachers, my friends’ parents…they all say take life by the reigns…but what if you don’t have the reigns? What if no one does? What if the best people in life get the shortest end of the stick and the hypocrites succeed in everything they do? What if you can’t stop the downward spiral that ends in misery? What if…?
                What if someone asked you to be friends and set a time limit on the friendship? At the time friendship with an expiration date was—of course—fine with you since he was just sort of barging his way into your life anyway. Then during the course of this peculiar and short friendship he changes everything. He turns your world inside out, switches left to right and up to down. How easy would it be for you to let that person go? Forget all about him? Move on with your life? Would you chase him to the ends of the earth--eagerly awaiting your joyous reunion? Or would you ignore the pain in your heart and trek on down your separate path?
                I’m a different person now than I was four months ago. I’m probably more cynical and pessimistic… but at the same time I’m a heck of a lot more empathetic and sensitive towards other people. There’s not many ways I can describe what happened to me…it’d be easier if I just told it as a story. It’s not hard to know where to start, let’s start where my life began. Not the birth canal kind of beginning. I’m talking about the kind of life-beginning where you start trying to find a purpose and understand why you were put on this cosmic dust-speck.
                Occasionally I have some entries where I just want to rant about life but for the most part this is an account, a story--a true one. That’s why this isn't a diary, it’s a book--and not one about me. If I wrote a book about the past me it’d be plain boring, who wants to hear about a girl who walked through life? This is a story about the boy who taught me how to fly--no soar.

               
Chapter 1
I never had really liked big cities. I definitely didn't like driving in them--it was nerve-wracking.
                If my target hadn't been such a rare copy of Oliver Twist I would have passed up on this particular opportunity to add to my collection. I adored Charles Dickens writings, this was the sixth copy I had of this one work. I hugged the paper bag closer to my chest. I decided not to give my new treasure a thorough inspection until after I got home.
                I was so taken up with my purchase that I didn't notice the crowd between me and my car until I bumped into a heavyset woman.
                “Sorry!”, I apologized immediately.
                She brushed me away and kept her eyes trained towards the sky. “Is he going to jump?”
                I followed her line of sight. Fifty stories above us a small speck of a person could be seen, balancing precariously on a ledge. The police were already gathering and several people were rushing into the building. If this guy was really serious about jumping there was no way they’d make it in time.
                I wondered what could push someone to the point where they would just want to end it all. A rotten child hood? A relationship gone bad? Bankruptcy? Perhaps he or she was just so sick of the monotony we call life that the decision to throw themselves onto the pavement hundreds of feet below came naturally. I shuddered and began pushing my way through the crowd, my morbid curiosity had quickly been overcome with the fear of seeing something to gruesome for words.
                Despite my rush I didn't manage to get inside my car before he jumped. It was close. In fact I’d just managed to turn my key in the lock of the ‘98 Camry before he threw himself down and a collective scream-like gasp sounded from those watching from below.
                I didn't want to watch but my eyes were drawn towards the plummeting body like paper clip to a magnet. After a second or two I squeezed my eyes shut. Would I hear the sickening thud I’d only experienced in movies? Bones snapping? Flesh tearing?
                I was probably too far away to hear the sound of a body hitting the ground but I heard the excited screams and shouts of the gathered crowd. I wondered if they should make such a spectacle of someone’s death, wasn't it disrespectful? It seemed like some sort of sacrilege.
                “So this is death…” I slowly opened my eyes.
                “No way! This is living.”
                It took me a second or two to take in my surroundings. The world I’d closed my eyes to was not the one I saw when I opened them. It felt as if the spectators eyes--that had been so focused on the suicide jumper a few seconds ago--were all drilled on me. Of course they weren't actually looking at me. They were staring at the boy, in a trench coat, struggling out of a parachute like apparatus, who’d just landed lightly on the hood of my car.
                It took him a few seconds to get out of his harness which promptly flew away with the slightest breeze. He slid off my car. “Sorry about that. I didn't realize the wind would blow me this far.” He gave the hood a quick inspection. “Yeah…looks like a put a dent in it. I don’t have much money but I’m sure I can pay it off somehow.” He turned back towards me with a well-that’s-life sort of expression.
                I recognized him after a second or two. Black hair, sad gray eyes, a gaunt frame and semi-pale skin. I had a photo-graphic memory and it rarely took even this long for me to associate a name with a face. He was smiling. In the three years I shared some class with him I’d never seen so much as a smirk. Not only was he smiling, but his eyes were alight with amusement. Eyes that had only been dead in the past.
                There were some shouts off in the crowd, police-men pushing their way forward.
                “Ah. Looks like I got to go. I might have disturbed the peace…a little.”
                I shook my head, trying to get my confused thoughts in order. “Harry?”
                He froze in the midst of his initial dash away. “How do you…?” He was obviously curious as to who I was but he looked back at the approaching cops, panic-stricken.
                I made a decision right then and there. It was probably the most important choice I've made in my entire life. It was the sort of decision that would change everything, though at the time I made it rather whimsically. “Get in the car.”
                He was too disoriented to disobey my order. He slid into the back-seat as I turned the ignition. I thanked God that I had backed into my parking space. In one fluid motion I swung out of the parking lot. I breathed out a sigh of relief when the police officers disappeared from my sight in my rear-view mirror. “They probably still got my license plate number though…”
                Harry finally spoke up. “Um…Thanks. Who are you?”
                “Don’t recognize me? We’re in the same class though. I normally wear contacts at school.” I removed my glasses and met his eyes in the mirror.
                “Oh. You’re that girl who’s like madly in love with Connor Higgins right?”
                “Huh!? Where did you-”
                Harry continued. “Um…Mabel? Beatrice? Agnes?”
                “Are those just the most grandmotherly names you could come up with on the spot? Claire Everett.”
                “Claire Everett…I guess I do know of someone named something like that. Though I've never talked to her or spent excessive time looking at her so I wouldn't be able to distinguish the original from a fake. Can you provide any evidence? It’s kind of weird for some random girl to practically force me into her car and take off.”
                I couldn't tell if he was joking or serious but either way I was getting irritated. Me offering him a ride wasn't even a quarter as odd as him throwing himself off a building, I figured my questions took priority over his. “Look. I’m your classmate. You looked like you were in trouble so I helped you out. Are you really this surprised?”
                “Yeah, I’m surprised. I’m surprised you knew my name. I guarantee you’re one of the only ones at school who does. I mean, I’m honored in a way. Claire Everett…knows my name.”
                “Are you teasing me right after I prevented you from getting arrested? I’m not all that popular at school and I don’t think I give off airs. Why are you acting as if I do?”
                Harry was silent for a moment. “Compared to me you’re like a queen or something. But I suppose even a few friends looks like a vast following to someone who’s cursed with antisocialism like some sort of freakish tattoo.”
                I rolled my eyes. “You don’t seem all that antisocial to me.”
                “Really? I guess I've just gained some insight into the human nature as of recent.”
                I shook my head. “Where should I take you?”
                “Where ever you’re going should be fine.”
                “I’m going home.”
                “Do you mind?”
                I chewed on my lip. What the heck? Yes I minded. “Well… I've got a lot of studying to do.”
                “Really? What a coincidence. So do I!”
                I could see in the reflection him making a big show of checking an imaginary watch.
                “I might just be able to fit you into my schedule.”
                He was just doing whatever he wanted! “You don’t understand…”
                His tone adopted a forlorn quality and a depressed undertone. “My parents aren't at home and if I’m by myself right now I feel like I might do something to myself…minus the parachute.”
                Urk. How was I supposed to respond to that? For someone I’d rarely heard a word out of the last few years of school he sure knew how to spin a verbal web. “You can come over…but you have to answer my questions okay?”
                “Deal. The only ones I won’t answer, are ones concerning why I jumped.”
                “I think it’s pretty obvious that those questions are on the forefront of my mind.”
                “Really? That was all you had? Don’t you think that the answer to that question could be a little--you know--private?”
                “You didn't do your skydiving act in private, so why should you keep your reasons secret?”
                Harry leaned forward. “How about we cut a deal?”
                He had a mischievous glint in his eyes. It worried me a bit…but it intrigued me as well. “If it’s anything weird or perverted you’re walking the rest of the way back.”
                The glint in his eyes grew stronger. “It’s not perverted, but it’s definitely pretty weird.”
                I kept my eyes on the road but he had my full attention.
                “While you’re a thousand times more popular than me you’re nowhere near Higgin’s level now are you?”
                “What makes you think that I like Connor?” I cursed my cheeks for the tingling heat that was flushing them.
                “Ah you’re blushing.”
                It wasn't the sort of thing I could deny.
                “I haven’t been participating in high-school social life much the last few years but I've been observing my classmates. Most of the girls wear their emotions on their sleeves, it doesn't take much consideration to determine what they want or think about.”
                I muttered under my breath. “Ninety-nine percent of guys would disagree with you.”
                Harry’s expression became serious. “But you’re different. You take a lot more to crack. Though in the end I just accepted that as a personal challenge. I was going to infiltrate your perfect little world.”
                I breathed out a laugh. “Oh and what were the analysis’s findings?”
                Harry stared into my eyes through the reflection. “That your world is far from perfect, in many ways. In fact I might have a healthier internal life than you do--and that’s saying a lot.”
                My stomach lurched. Just what did this strange boy know about me?
                That playful look returned to his eyes. “School ends in a week or so right? Be my friend for the next three months. It’s a noncommittal relationship for a single summertime, by the end of it we walk our separate ways. You’ll know why I jumped from that building and I’ll help you with what you really want.”
                Ideally I needed a moment to process his request but he pressed on.
                “You act like you’re content with life but in reality you feel insufficient right? You want to beat that long-time rival of yours--Sarah--and take Higgins for yourself.”
                How does he know this? My hatred for Sarah wasn't something I mentioned to anyone--ANYONE--I also wasn't very open about my affections, only Sam--my closest friend--knew about my long-time crush on Connor. “How would becoming your friend accomplish those things?”
                “I’ll teach you.”
                I felt a little incredulous. “You are going to teach me how to up my social status?”
                Harry shook his head. “Of course not. If you’re just interested in playing games then you’ll just keep giving yourself the penalty. I think we both know what I’m talking about.”
                More heat stung my cheeks. I think I did but I certainly wasn't going to acknowledge it.
                “I’ll just show you how to love life. From there it’s up to you to take advantage of it.”
                I was insanely curious as to what exactly he was offering me but in the end I knew it’d be best to refuse. Who knew what would happen if I accepted?
                He tacked on an ending to his speech. “If you don’t accept the deal I might just have to start spreading rumors of your wild hot love for Higgins, the hunky point-guard, and world’s most eligible bachelor.”
                “You’re threatening me!? After I saved you!?”
                “Don’t think of it as threatening…think of it as me forcing you to accept my ‘returning of the favor’.”
                I rolled my eyes at his paltry justification. “In this case they just so happen to basically be the same thing.”
                In all honesty, I wasn't quite sure what was happening as we pulled up to my house. Some way or another this weirdo had wheedled his way inside my home and earned my “friendship”. I didn't dislike him--no not at all--but still there was something about him that made the common sense within me scream, “run!” or “get away from him!”. Though at the same time I was an avid reader. The part of me that longed for whatever dangerous adventures he would provide wished I could be around him always.
                As we approached the door I cursed under my breath. There was a reason why I never had friends over. “My mom is probably inside. I don’t normally bring ‘friends’ home. Try to ignore her. She may be a little…” I trailed off, admitting to my poor family life was embarrassing.
                “I’m sure your people are no more messed up than mine.”
                I tried to get him to my room before my mom managed to catch a glimpse of him but it was a short lived dream. She appeared in a flutter of chestnut hair and sun-dress cut far too short for a woman of her age--at least in my mind it was, she still looked like a twenty five year old so most men would probably disagree.
                She smelled heavily of her favorite tequila as she draped an arm around me. “What is this? My daughter’s finally brought back a man! I thought this day would never come. She’s such a shy girl really. Though really…” She stepped away from me and grabbed hold of a lock of Harry’s dark hair. “…you couldn't do any better? You always struck me as the type to go for the athletic ones. He’s not bad looking but…” She patted his shoulders. “He’s built like a pencil.”
                “Mom. You’re making him uncomfortable. You can’t just latch on to a teenage guy like that.”
                I gritted my teeth as she grabbed his arm and pulled him even closer. “What’s this? Is my baby girl jealous?”
                “Mom you’re seriously embarrassing me right now. You need to find something to do during the day other than drinking.”
                She untangled herself from Harry with a sigh. “Don’t be such a spoil-sport. I don’t need to do anything else during the day, cause I married rich, let that be a lesson to you.”
                The moment I saw an opportunity to drag Harry to the sanctuary of my room I did so. “Sorry. I honestly don’t know what’s wrong with that woman.”
                Harry’s face was flushed a bit but he wasn't too off put by my mother’s forward nature.
                I offered him my desk chair and plopped down on my bed before him. He seemed a little uncomfortable. Was it because we were alone in my room? Cute. Come to think of it he was the first guy who’d ever been in here--with the exception of my dad. I realized I’d been dwelling on it a little too long when I felt myself getting nervous.
                “Well let’s discuss our battle strategy.”
                I heaved out a deep breath. “Yeah…okay. Whatever.”
                “Say ‘hello’ to Higgins tomorrow.”
                I coughed. “That’s it?” I had said ‘hi’ to Connor before. Did Harry think I was a total social invalid?
                “Yep that’s it. Give him a genuine greeting. Not a passing wave or a quick acknowledgement. You've got to look him in the eye, say hello, and smile--not a slutty smile.”
                I wasn't quite sure what a “slutty smile” looked like. “This is your plan to make me love being alive? Have me say hello to a boy?”
                Harry shook his head and checked something on his phone. “No. This is just confirming that Connor knows you’re alive. We’ll start working on living life at the fullest after school.”
                I groaned internally. I wouldn't be going along with any of this if he hadn't threatened me. Even with the blackmail--of sorts--hanging over my head I was getting tired of this. He was wasting my Saturday, I’d done him a favor and he’d used it to barge in on my private life. I was about to kick him out and end whatever ridiculous relationship he was attempting to begin when I heard my father’s brusque voice downstairs. “He’s home early…”I looked up at Harry and made the first excuse I could think of. “ You've got to go. If he sees a boy in my room…I don’t even know what’ll happen. You’ll have to go through the window.”
                The threat sounded legitimate and Harry seemed quite concerned--perhaps a minute earlier and it would have effectively gotten him out through my second story window, but the yelling started before he was halfway there.
                Of course they’d start fighting the moment they saw each other. My mother was a hopeless drunk and my father a potent narcissist. My father was gentle physically so I was never worried that their fights would become a brawl--on account of him. My mother was a different story, if she snapped she’d probably seriously injure someone with her drunken violence.
                I watched Harry’s face as he listened to the ruckus downstairs. It had none of the things I’d feared from my friends if they were to experience my home life. There was no amusement and no disgust. Just the watery eyes of someone who understood my pain.
                He disappeared out of my window and left me to my thoughts. Those eyes were burned into my mind. They were capable of alternating between the vibrancy he’d displayed earlier in the car and a perfect compassion. Playing along with his game for a little while wouldn't be so bad would it? Just so I could figure him out the same way he’d managed to unravel me. Yeah. I didn't really care about all that learning to live and falling in love stuff but I owed him one for being so perceptive.
                Did he think he was the only one who could figure a person out by observing their behavior?
                I glanced at the full length mirror on my door. I didn't see anything particularly pretty about myself, though others had disagreed with my assessment in the past. Hazel eyes flecked with orange and dark brown hair. My nose was a little too long in my opinion but my mother--in between her drunken rages, during the sparse moments of maternal clarity--told me it lent itself towards a dignified appearance.
I certainly hoped so. I had liked one guy for nearly all of my high school experience. I probably should have approached him before he became so obnoxiously popular. Now with the level of the girls surrounding him I couldn't see myself having a chance. Harry would have to be a miracle worker.
                I caught myself. I didn't mind playing along with him but I was quite sure that it would be foolish to put any faith into whatever little scheme was playing out in his head. Doing so would just encourage his incorrigible behavior.
                With that my weekend dragged on and I slowly realized that time was moving so slowly only because I couldn't wait to see him again come Monday. I rightfully blamed my longing on what an odd person he was--my curiosity had been thoroughly aroused.

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