Miles Within Constellations

Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

FOUR YEARS AGO

"Are you going to show up at Mr. Freyer's class?" Carrie was sitting on the couch beside me, running her fingers down her golden auburn hair. She looked like a Disney princess done right.

"Is he going to give another sermon on John Donne? Because all man now is an island," I rolled my eyes when Carrie shot me a look. She gets boisterous and sassy when it comes to Literature.

Carrie has always been in love with Dante and metaphysical poetry. She wanted to revel in the darkness and the spirituality behind the human existence. She had this constant gleam in her eyes whenever she sits in Mr. Freyer's class like she was in awe or something.

I wanted to ask her what Bertrand Russell once said. Day after day, man is accumulating knowledge, but is the man getting any wiser?

I felt my inner Virginia Woolf fist thumping when I looked at her. What's all this passion for?

Carrie hummed a low growl like a dog in heat, getting all pissed. She ran a finger under her chin as she fought for my soda can. "You know that pale skin, dark-haired guy is also going to be there?" she asked.

"Who guy?" I averted my gaze, suspicious that I've been caught.

"Kid me not, woman," she chided, "I know the way you look at him. Something is definitely fishy. Do you know him or something?"

"Nope. He," I look at her embarrassed, "has the most beautiful eyes. It's just the eyes. I'm not sleeping with him or anything." I mused as if I'm just getting to learn how to get lost in those blue eyes of his. He does have them good.

"That's the thing. It's easy to give away your body sometimes, but, in the matters of the heart one might perish," she lurked around the topic of who shall not be named.

"Anyways, I think I'll make it to class today. What if Mr. Freyer starts on that play I love. . . remember?" She had no clue whatsoever of which play I'm talking about and Carrie was the kind of girl who wanted to know everything. It was easy to see her latch on to something as small as this, and this leading to an incessant buzzing in her head. I drowned in satisfaction.

"What play?" She reprimanded me from her walking down the closet and pulled out a sweater for class. She pushed the head of the sweater down her neck and hummed to distract herself.

"Look back in Anger!" I clapped my hands, full of energy.

"Oh that John Osborne guy?" Carrie divulged like he was some guy she met on a Friday night in some gloomy, local bar and ended up having a one-night-stand with.

"Yeah, what about him?" I gave her a look.

"Nothing. It's just that, that, he's annoying," She picked out her satchel and started combing through the things inside it.

"Not as annoying as John Donne," I ended up picking out my own backpack and putting my notebook inside of it.

"Angelique!"

"Carrie!"

Carrie was tilting her wrist, still as infatuated with her Gucci watch as the first time I met her and thought that she was the most pretentious kid I'll ever meet on campus. Little did I know, she was not even the cherry on the cake. There were a few pompous asses residing down the block with their BMW's and Porsche's.

A message pinged on my cellphone, vibrating the front of my faded denim jacket. I pulled it out and then swiped right to open it.

SETH: Baby please, I deserve one more chance.