Falling Falling Stars

68 - Sparklers II

Note: A shorter chapter, but a...necessary one. I've been wanting to write this for ages.

*

At the end of poetry group on Saturday morning, Nate came over and handed Efnisien a book. It was well-thumbed, with yellowed pages, and the title was: A Shawl of Mist. It was a hardback, and clearly a loved book.

'Read it,' Nate said. 'It'll teach you about tanka and haiku, and about how you can break the syllable pattern in English sometimes, to get a better feel for how they're supposed to sound in the head and mouth. I meant to bring it last time but forgot.'

'Um,' Efnisien took the book gingerly. You're trusting me with this? 'Okay. Are you sure you don't...need it?'

'Yeah,' Nate said blankly. 'I wouldn't give it to you if I did.'

'Right.'

Efnisien thought about the session with Dr Gary where he realised he basically hated Nate and Augus because they reminded him of himself. He'd been thinking about it all morning. He still really hated Augus, but he felt less prickly towards Nate, and more cautious instead.

'You didn't read any poems today,' Nate said. 'Did you write any?'

'Um.' Efnisien stared down at his notebook. 'Bad ones.'

'Look, I'm going to tell you what I tell everyone else, you can't be good until you write some shit. And then once you're good, you're still going to write some shit. That's just how it goes.'

'Yeah.'

'You ever coming back to choir?'

'Not while Bridge is there,' Efnisien said, looking around the space. But everyone else had left. They tended to clear out pretty quickly. He didn't think the poetry group socialised like the choir did. He missed that.

Nate looked at Efnisien for a long time. His eyes were a really dark brown, almost black. They seemed opaque, especially because Nate just kind of stared at people.

'What?' Efnisien said finally.

'You're going to read me a poem next time,' Nate said. 'You can do it without the group present, but I want you to try. I know you can sing on your own because you did the audition. And I know you can sing in a group because I've heard you. There's no reason you can't read poetry.'

'You'll just tell me I'm shit and tell me to leave.'

Nate's smile was laconic, and then he rolled his eyes. 'At least that's evidence you don't want to be told to leave. God, dude, I do not care about you that much. Yes, it's annoying that your voice is so good. But we're not in choir anymore, and you have this like, lost ingenue bullshit going on that's so fucking tired.'

'Anthony called you the choir's Eeyore,' Efnisien said, feeling stung, even though he still didn't know what an Eeyore was. Nate only smirked, then laughed. Even his laughter was dumb. Just a few breaths.

'There's worse things to be,' Nate said. 'I suppose that makes Janusz the group's Tigger. It works.'

'What even are those things? People?'

Nate squinted at him. 'Winnie the Pooh?'

Efnisien shook his head slowly.

'How...the fuck have you-?' Nate looked interested in him for the first time ever, and Efnisien didn't like it at all. He took a step backwards, then turned away entirely, still holding the book.

'I have to go.'

'Dude, everyone's heard of Winnie the Pooh. What, did you grow up in a box?'