A Peculiar String of Bizarre Dreams

Chapter 6: Vikings in a Mosh Pit

I text Yuna:

I'm outside your house. The sun is about to set. Come down and say farewell to it or let me in. I have to tell you something.

It barely takes a minute for Yuna to open the door before me.

As indoor-ness grows rampant, fewer people want to enjoy moments of sun-ness. Soon we'll be dying inside human-built structures from deficiencies of not spending enough time with natural landscapes. What a dreadful symbiotic relationship nature and human-beings have.

Yuna greets me with as much cheer as that of a disgruntled host. Her black hair sits sleek and straight on her shoulders. But behind her brown eyes, I see a hurricane brewing. She ushers me in and holds a finger to her lips to stay shush.

So much for spending time with nature, I sigh and submit to her silent request.

In her room, the hurricane seems to have already visited and satisfied with its work, receded. Books lay open everywhere alongside stray papers, official looking letters and post-its scattered like autumn leaves. And a bunch of t-shirts seem to be eloping with several pairs of trousers, leaving a trail from her closet to her bed.

"Did you have a concert in here without me? Were there actual vikings, who were part of the mosh pit? Did all of you have fun this afternoon?"

Yuna looks around her room unfazed, as if just noticing the hurricane's aftermath.

"You know, I wouldn't do that without you. There's really no one else in Avian Oaks, who would be interested in a viking mosh pit. Participating in such ventures mandates inviting you over."

I grin back at her but my concern quickly takes over. "What's going on, Yu?"

Yuna falls on her bed in exhaustion, scarcely crushing the documents and books beneath her papery weight.

"I've applied to 7 universities. And for back up, I've applied for 7 jobs. And I don't think I want to go to any of those universities or get interviews for any of those jobs. I'm positively petrified."

"You are going to get accepted into those universities and you are going to hear back from those workplaces. You're more than qualified and you deserve to get in. It's okay, you know? This is normal, life transitions are not suppose to be easy."

Yuna gives me an appreciative smile but continues to look unconvinced.

"You're a good friend, Jemma. But enough about me. So how come there's an anecdote about your life that I haven't heard before? Unless it happened in the last 24 hours...yeah, that would make sense. I haven't spoken to you since I ate a tub of cookie dough ice cream yesterday. All by myself too, by the way. My nerves are making me a champion. A champion at eating tubs of goodness."

Yuna looks at me proudly as she boasts about her accomplishment. I mentally applaud her as she reiterates, "Tell me already before I tell you about my other gormandizing achievements."

I comply, "I was at the library before I came to see you. And I was petting some leather bound books, as you do. But then, I swear, like out of nowhere, this guy dressed in a snazzy black suit whizzed past me to the history section..."

Before I have even finished my sentence, Yuna springs from her bed and hoots, "Wooot! We've got a match! We've finally got a match! You found him!"

"You know him? His name is Eli and he's new in town. Was I suppose to find him?" I calmly ask her.

"No, your highness, the coy princess. He sounds perfect. I approve. You may marry him. He likes books and wears a suit, and you think he's handsome, what am I missing here?"

I frown at her.

Yuna has always enjoyed pairing me off. She has been doing this since the moment she realized girls could actually like boys. But every time she finds a match for me, my first instinct is to disagree with her. So naturally, I put forth an argument.

"Maybe he's a psycho bibliophile killer, I don't think you'll approve of your best friend's murder."

Yuna ignores me, "What else do you know about this new guy?"

"Not much, except that his parents probably have iron fists for hearts because they sent him to boarding school at the age of 5. He might be royalty or something...you know, how aristocrats believe in proper upbringing. Obviously I'm only guessing, I don't know his parents' story."

"Wow, that's tough."

I nod and check my wristwatch. I have only about an hour left before dinner with dad.

"It does sound tough. But I'm afraid we'll have to discuss this suitor on another occasion, I have to go home."

As I'm leaving, I notice Yuna's room looking relatively cleaner than before. At some point during our conversation, she folded a pile of laundry and neatly stacked it outside her closet, to put in later.

"Fine, but promise to tell me if you find anything else about him. I'm really curious," She insists.

Aren't we all, I think to myself.