Chapter 14 - A Chat in the Locker RoomA Chapter by emmaI did not think that the
boy’s locker room was too great a place to have a private conversation, but
Nate assured me that he could lock the door and no one ever came in there at
lunch, anyways. I agreed after only ten short minutes of protesting, and a
promise that he would buy me a sandwich. So we were sitting
cross-legged on the cool, tile flooring of the locker room--which smelled
awful, by the way--both waiting for the other to start speaking. I munched on
my sandwich dutifully, and Nate stared at me, his eyes gleaming. “You gonna talk or what?” I
asked with a mouthful of turkey and bread. “I’ll get to it. Don’t rush
me.” I rolled my eyes, but said
nothing else. I went back to my sandwich. He started speaking right
out of the blue, about five minutes later. “I asked my grandpa about the
ghombies.” My ears perked up. “You
did?” I spat a little food out of my mouth accidentally. I don’t think he
noticed. “Yeah . . .” He took his
time, collecting his thoughts. “They’re really real?” “As real as you and me.” He swallowed. “I can’t
process that.” “Try to, because now that
you know, it’s your world, too.” I was hesitant to do it, but I placed my hand
on top of his for a brief second, just to give him a sense of balance. I knew
what it was like to have the world be pulled right out from under your feet. “Can I tell you something?”
I asked. He instantly turned to face
me, his gray eyes a storm of emotions. The colour fit perfectly. I inhaled
sharply, realizing why he was so alert: he thought I liked him. Or something. I
shook my head, letting my gaze drop to the floor. “Ghombies are invisible to
anyone who isn’t a ghombie whisperer, as I say. It’s just someone who can,
well, see ghombies.” I was rambling. D****t. “Uh, okay,” he said,
disappointment in his voice. “And, well, the person who
attacked me the other night was a ghombie.” I forced myself to look back up at
him. He had moved closer, his face dangerously close to mine. He seemed to be
in the habit of invading my personal space. “And you saw it.” He looked confused at first,
but eventually, realization dawned on him and his features twisted into
disbelief. “No. I’m not . . . I can’t
be, can I?” Poor kid was so panicked. “You have to be. There’s no
other explanation.” “Oh my God.” He backed away
and his face turned a sickly green. I almost wanted to save him
from the terror of reality and tell him it was all a joke, but that wouldn’t
fix anything. “Yeah.” Was all I said. Nate laid down, pressing his
cheek against the floor. At first I had no idea what he was doing, and was
about to tell him that that was very unsanitary, but then I remembered when I
had done the same thing. Except I had been on a bathroom floor. It was a way to
cool yourself off, a method of calming. I watched the back of Nate’s
head for about ten minutes, and said nothing. The bottom hairs on his head had
slicked from his sweat. His breathing was shattered and ragged, and he sounded scared.
Something in me drew me
towards him, and I scooted over so I could feel the heat radiated off of him. “I know it’s bad now, but
trust me, it gets better.” I thought it sounded helpful, but he didn’t respond.
“Nate?” I whispered a minute
later. “Yeah?” “Are you okay?” He sat up, and I was
surprised to see no red, puffy eyes. He hadn’t cried. “What do you think?” I looked down at my legs
self-consciously, knowing I had asked the stupidest question I could’ve. I
traced a circle with my finger on the blue material of my worn jeans over and
over again, until my finger was hot with the friction. A gentle hand touched my
cheek. I froze, and I knew I was blushing. Nate grazed my cheek with his
fingertips, letting them rest of my face for a few seconds before moving them
ever so slightly, brushing a strand of hair out of my eyes. “There.” His voice cracked. “That
was bugging me.” I glanced up, and opened my
mouth to say something rude and snarky, but stopped myself. Looking into his
eyes, I saw right through him. He was breaking on the inside, and I couldn’t be
the final crack that tore him apart completely. Those were the thoughts that
pushed me to do what I did next, and I always felt a little guilty about it. I
had given him hope that would be squelched later anyways. I leaned forward, just
slightly, and put my lips on his cheek. He had to be blushing, because no one’s
skin was naturally that hot. Then I pulled away and smiled lopsidedly at him. “We should talk more. Really
talk.” His eyes lit up the second I said it. “Yeah, okay.” I grinned at him, and he
grinned back. Someone banged obnoxiously
loud on the locker room door. “Yo, Nate! Let me in! I want some one-on-one time
with Andrea, too!” Wilson. Had to be. My grin shifted into a
scowl. “You told Wilson you were taking me here?” Nate looked shaken. “I had
to tell him why I wasn’t going to be in the cafeteria today.” I looked away, feeling
betrayed for some reason. “How long do you think he’s been standing there
listening?” “I’ve heard everything from
something about bugs to now,” yelled Wilson. “Nate, boy, let me in!” I glared at Nate. “Don’t you
dare.” He looked stuck. Listen to
the scorned woman or the best friend? “Wilson, I can’t. Not yet.”
A wise choice. “Dude.” “Wil, I can’t.” “Whatever, man.” He sounded
peeved. I felt kind of guilty, so I said
to Nate, “I should go. The bell’s gonna ring.” Nate tried to hide it, but I
saw his hurt. “Oh, yeah. Okay.” I got up, brushed off my
jeans, and headed for the door. I yanked it open, sending Wilson flying to the
ground. He must’ve been leaning againt the door, listening. “Oh, hey, Andrea,” he said
coolly, and raised an eyebrow at me. I rolled my eyes and pushed
past him. I was so not in the mood. “Where’re you going,
beautiful?” he called after me. I cringed. Really, kid? I
didn’t say anything, and just kept walking. He didn’t call after me again, and
I was grateful. I did hear Wilson and Nate talking a bit, though, just as I was
turning the corner. All I heard was, “she’s so unpredictable.” Hah. They didn’t
know the half of it. © 2011 emmaAuthor's Note
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Added on November 25, 2011Last Updated on November 25, 2011 AuthoremmaCanadaAbouti'm emma and i watch a lot of TV and movies and read a lot of books and come talk to me about that i would love to talk with you also: i write things every once and a while more..Writing
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