The Concept of Perfection

Chapter Seven- Reminding Me of Someone

Chapter Seven- Reminding Me of Someone

            “You’re such a smartass,” Eli told Nate during lunch. We were all sitting together and talking about Mr. Rohr and his crazy wig. “How did you know about his hair?”

            Nate flashed a good-natured smirk. “I just know.” He even tapped his head with his index finger.

            And he left everyone wondering how he knew about Mr. Rohr’s thinning hair. He’s probably a stalker. Yeah, Nate must be stalking Mr. Rohr and all. I just shrugged it off.

            By dismissal, Kelli and I were ready to go home. Violet’s going to stay awhile with her classmates. The three of us ride bikes to and from school. But halfway there to Aunt Isabelle’s, we part. Their house is two streets away from the shore.

            As we rode slowly, we were talking. Like usual.

            “How do you think Nate knew about Mr. Rohr?” I slowed down my pedaling, just so we have enough time to talk. I can already see the street where we part with each other, getting nearer and nearer.

            I guessed she wants to talk more as well. She slowed down, and said, “Actually, he always know stuff about that. Ever since freshman year. I don’t know how he does it, he just does.”

            He just does. That’s what Kelli said. He just does. I doubt it though. That guy probably has an obsession with Mr. Rohr. He probably stalks him and slinks past the Rohrs’ residence. That crazy Nate is probably going over Mr. Rohr’s trash every day.

            “Why do you hate him?” Kelli surprised me with that blunt question, snapping me from my thoughts about Nate, the Crazy Stalker.

            “I don’t.”

            “You do. You rarely talk to him,” she muttered. “I mean, it’s just different with him.”

            I fell silent, not knowing how to reply. The question just took me aback and I don’t know whether or not I should tell her the truth. After all, I can feel her genuine sincerity towards me. I just can. Just like how Nate ‘just does.’

            “I...” I trailed off.

            “Whoops. Gotta go,” she said, readying herself for the turn she’s going to make for the next street.

            “Uhh, yeah. Right.”

            And she just sped off to the left.

            Sighing, I stopped the bike with my foot. I stayed there for at least a minute there at the sidewalk, an internal debate going on in my head. Maybe I can follow Kelli and answer her truthfully. Or maybe that’s a bad idea. Finally deciding on the latter, I started pedaling towards Aunt Isabelle’s house.

            Beep-beep.

            I squeezed the brakes and stopped, just as the red pickup truck pulled over just beside me. I was about to curse (something I don’t really do—because my mother “forbids” it—unless I really want to), but I didn’t when the head popped out of the driver’s seat window.

            “Little Miss Princess.”

            I grimaced. “Hey, Nate. I’m going home now. Do you mind my going first?”