.::Romance Novels::.

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.::Romance Novels::.

Post  Cojo on Wed Feb 24, 2010 12:45 am


Romance Novels
By: Dani Cojo

I look back, and I'm still puzzled at what everything really meant. I'm not that smart when it comes to deciphering a wink from a twitch, or a glare from a loving glance. I can't tell when someone is trying to get my attention, or just trying to creep me out. I can't figure out if someone is just a friend or if they think otherwise just by how they talk to me. I've never been street smart, and I've never experienced love other than in my own family. How am I supposed to know if that subtle glance a year ago meant anything. I never would have thought of it otherwise, if he hadn't disappeared.

I remember the day clearly. It was the last day of school, and we were all anxious to get out of the hellish hall and into the free world. Oh, and by we I meant the entire high school, including the teachers. So were off to our final exams. For me, I was lucky, since my next to exams were probably the easiest classes, economics and design. What could be easier? So, instead of getting to my class early, I stood in the corner of the hall with my friends, signing our yearbooks.

Now, before I continue, let me explain why this part of my day was crucial, and pretty much the only part of that day that I remember. This was because I was determined to get Mr. Gorgeous to sign my yearbook.

You see, Mr. Delicious was in my English class last semester, and sat near me. So I developed this gigantic crush on him, and well, now I act like a blob of jello every time I even see a glimpse of him in the hall. So how was I supposed to get his signature in my yearbook? I had no clue.

I had many chances that day to swallow my pride and gain the courage to go up and say, "Hey, can you sign my yearbook?" but no, I failed epically at that and just stood there, watching him as he passed. The bell was about to ring and I was desperate. He was heading down the hall again, looking as glamorous as he always did, and I was fidgeting like a crazy lady, trying to let the words flow from my mouth. My friend, seeing my distress half saves the day and embarrasses me for eternity. She grabs my yearbook, spins around swiftly and stands in from of him. He stops and looks at her for a brief second as she says "Can you sign this for my friend?"

I'm sure you can imagine the relief and horror I felt. No? Let me explain. It was like diving off the edge of a boat and feeling the cool rush of water, only to see a shark coming at you. Or like passing your big test, only to find that you completely failed your other classes. Or even seeing that you will get the autograph you've been dreaming of and dying for ever since the second semester started, only to realize that you look like a complete fool for standing there as your mega crush sees you blushing stupidly as your friends asks him to sign your yearbook. Get the picture?

He asks who its for and I raise my hands stupidly, saying for me. Now if this was for some complete stranger, it wouldn't have been that bad. Except this kid knows me. He can easily recognize that I wasthe girl who sat next to him in class. I'm sure he knows I like him by now. Still, he smiles and says of course and takes my yearbook, signing it quickly, and handing back to me. I mumble a quick thanks and rush to my class, trying to wipe the blush off my face as I read, "I was Hear." How cute, he spelled "Here" wrong.

But before I could even take a single step toward my class, I see him standing with his friends across the hall.

No, not Mr. Fantastic. James.

Just plain old James, who has been my locker neighbor ever since 6th grade. I'm used to seeing his face all the time. What's so special about this time.

Well, I can give you a good reason.

He's looking at me. No, not glancing in my direction. I mean, he makes eye contact with me. And the emotion I read was something I never thought a happy, upbeat and rebellious guy like him would ever show.

Sorrow.

Like I said before, I've never been good at reading emotions. So trying to describe this feeling I felt is hard. But when our eyes locked, his small smile couldn't hide what I believe is sadness. His eyes were empty. They didn't shine with that stupid happiness they always did when he decorated his locker with nonsense things he found on the ground. His smile cracked with a frown as he tried to hide his emotions. I merely smiled back as I continued to walk to my class, and he continued to talk with his friends.

The moment was so quick. But it's something that hasn't been able to escape my mind for a very, very long time. By the time my exams were over, I had forgotten the sad look and continued my day. It was only when I remembered when he was at his locker, right next to me, as we grabbed our notebooks and headed to the busses. I stopped him in the hall, holding my yearbook, grinning and chuckling.

"You said at the end of the day you'd sign this."

He shook his head and smiled a genuine smile. "It's not the end of the day yet."

I sighed and shoved the book into his hands, along with a sharpie, "It's close enough, just sign it."

He rolled his eyes and quickly wrote, "Shits and Tits" in the cover and handed it back to me. I couldn't help but laugh and smile.

I didn't know that was the last time I'd ever see him or speak to him again.

I look back, and I think about that look he gave me in the hall. Was that his way of saying he's leaving? Was that his final goodbye? Was he never planning on writing in my yearbook? Was that his way of saying he'd miss me? I just don't know. Glances are such a powerful thing, and I'm too stupid to read them correctly.

No, he didn't commit suicide or anything like that. I did see him again. But not directly. It was homecoming and my friend told me he was here. For some reason, I panicked.

I confused myself greatly that day. I only panicked whenever Mr. Scrumptious walked in the room. Never James. Why James all of a sudden?

I can't describe my meeting with him, cause we never met. I sat at a table and watched him like some creeper as he hung out with old friends. My friend even went up and said hi to him again. But I didn't.

I couldn't.

Just like with Mr. Handsome, I couldn't get the courage to even say hi to a good friend of mine. What happened to me over the summer? I guess coming to school and not seeing him in my homeroom made me curious, and a few days in school without him talking to me at our lockers made me nervous. I guess I was afraid he'd moved.

And at homecoming, I had that feeling of relief and panic. I was glad he was still around, but I just couldn't bear to see him. So I never talked to him, and that's where the story ends.

There's not much else to say really, just that my own emotions are really messed up, and I can't figure out what others try to tell me. I guess not having a boyfriend ever can do that to you, but you'd think a helpless romantic who reads too many romance novels would have some sort of knowledge on relationships. Of course, real life isn't anything like a romance novel.


Last edited by Cojo on Fri Feb 26, 2010 12:23 am; edited 2 times in total
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Cojo

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Re: .::Romance Novels::.

Post  Journey Lynn on Thu Feb 25, 2010 2:25 am

I think this is a remarkable piece of literature. This could have been another stereotypical tale of angst, with, like you pointed out, James committing suicide or something or other climatic like that. But I think this is more valuable; it's anti-climactic. It's left hanging, like we are in life. But I think a way to find closure in this situation (if you already haven't) is to recognize that it's a good experience to have. Because next time, even if you can't decipher the "looks" from the "glares", you'll be in a better place to be more open regardless. So I thank you for sharing this; too often people read stories that are neat and tidy and wrapped up tight, everything with it's end, it's conclusion, it's answers. I'm glad they'll have something to read that's a little truer to life. The truth is, the priceless conclusion that we all look for is actually the truths we learn from simply having experienced something.
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