Chapter 26: Just breathe

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My wrist keep moving as I mindlessly write onto a paper. That's something I need to get done for next week; however, doing it now is more practical. That means I could maybe get some sleep tomorrow night, Monday night, that'll leave me refreshed and ready for another hundreds of years with sleep deprivation.

The music and memories of Lafayette and Hercules' birthday party still linger in my mind, even after all those days, probably a good way of my brain to mock me with how fun I had, and how I don't have any right now. On top of that, Mr. Adams hates my guts even more now because of the incident with Jefferson. I mean, how could I not be a little smug with the whole situation? His pride took a shot, that's for sure, and now he doesn't have a good reason to say I'm an a-hole! Ha ha! The whole "you influence badly new students" and yada that he gave Jefferson and me was so fucking rude, and him lacking ANY kind of consideration for my situation infuriates me. What would  have I done if I couldn't work for a whole week?

While realizing I started to write a completely unrelated and nonsensical sentence on my paper, I hear beeping from my phone. That's not new, probably a new text from the gang or something.

Catherine: Hey kid! Are you still up?

... What? And who's that? "Catherine"? I don't remember adding that name to my contacts.

Alexander Ham.: Hello, who are you?

Catherine: You are blunt, indeed. I'm your mother's co-worker! I contacted you on the behalf of your mom, she had some health complications at work and needed a checkup at the hospital. Don't worry too much about it, I don't think it's serious. Do you think you're alright staying home-alone? Or would you insist on coming to the hospital?

Oh... so that's what it's about. Oh god, is she okay? I know she didn't felt so well these times around, but to the point of going to the hospital? And what happened at work? Why be so vague? Minding staying home-alone? I'm fucking seventeen, for Pete's sake! Another beeping sound, and I nervously look down.

Lafayette tagged you in a post.

"Hey mes amis, I got the certification that the Halloween party will be at my house! Everyone is invited, like every year, and you better come costumed. It will be on the night of the 31st October. Be there, will be wild!"

Of course. It wasn't Catherine, she wouldn't already have news by now.

I sigh and put my hand in my hair, slightly pulling on them. She'll be alright. Stop panicking for nothing, Alex, everybody needs a checkup once in a while. She'll be back at home, what? Tomorrow morning? Evening, in the worse case scenario? She'll tell me she maybe had some fever, was too bad to work, her coworker saw that and thought the worse, convinced her to go to the hospital to be sure, they tell her she has a cold, that's it!

Alexander Ham.: Thank you for informing me, I'll be fine staying home alone, don't worry. Keep me posted.

And with that, I go to work at the pizza place. I'm out of it the whole time, delivering does sucks, but I already said that before. Coming home to sleep, I'm a bit agitated, but I manage to get some hours of sleep.

Next morning, mom's still not there, dead end on Catherine. At school, I trip on a trashcan while walking with the gang and they laugh so hard, I would've too, I won't lie, but since it's me, well my ego's damaged, and I'm a bit upset. So at lunch I decide to skip on them and go to the library. When we were in class, all we could hear about was Lafayette's official announcement, because obviously people are excited for that. It's like a tradition, and the weirdest, most messed up things, happens at that party. I even kissed Angelica at this party, once. It was for a stupid bet, and I regret it so much. Thank the Lord she's not mad at me. He didn't lie when he said it was wild, because it is. Full on cliché American party.

The library smells old and dusty, just like books. It's not so big, hardly 20 bookshelves, you can't get lost, and can read them all, although that'd be long. Since senior year started I'm busier than ever, so I don't have a lot of time to read, but I wish I did. I think something we can all agree on is that books are a way to go on a trip without moving a foot, you hop on a boat and admire the different landscapes the words create, on this cruise with the most loveable characters, or the worst species of humankind. Reading my kind of Books, historical and also true stories, leads to often seeing a very monstrous facets of what humans can become; pithole of hatred, blinded by famine, pain, sadness, numbness. Controlled by fascists hungry for power. That's a part of history that is hard to forget.

Suddenly I remember a book I really wanted to read, but didn't get the occasion to register. I close my eyes for a second to remember what was the title, then when I finally recall it I go off to the right shelf and try to find it, running the tip of my fingers against the book's spines, reading the names in my head each one after the other. When I finally get the right one I try to take it, but a hand tries to do it too. I frown and take it quicker. No way I'm quitting on registering that book, too much effort was put into this. Reading to enjoy my little victory and smirk at the person who dare to try and steal my book. Wait, I know that ball head, don't tell me...

"Aaron?"

Oh, not today. Please not today. I don't need drama today, can't you see that, faith? I'm not in a mood to argue.

"Alexander. That's the book I wanted." He's always so neutral, so self-preservative.

"Actually, I had it first, so-" No. Alexander, no arguing. Remember you wanted to apologize.

Don't apologize to that swan who kept comparing you to someone he, in the end, dumped for no reason.

No! Apologize! Be a grown and do the mature thing! What fighting will bring you, you think?

"Whatever." He turns around and tries to leave. Oh, no. Make a decision Alex! Or let him leave? ... and quit? No! Apologize, don't, do, don't, do, don't, do-

"I'm sorry!... Not!"

His steps stop and he looks at me. Well, I'm good at making a fool of myself today.

"... Okay?"

Yeah. You're not helping, Aaron.

"Huh, yeah, I was, you know, kinda mean this once, and I kinda stopped talking to you for a while, so sorry."

He gives me strange looks, the ones you know are hiding some questions nobody ever really asks. Even less Aaron.

"Too late, Alexander." And he leaves. Okay, I was a bit upset? Now I'm straight up angry.

"Too late?! Are you fucking kidding me?!" He keeps walking. I feel my hands curling up, my jaws clenching.

Calm down.

Breathe.

Just breathe.

Quicksilver - Jamilton -Where stories live. Discover now