51 Shades of Mumu

Chapter 22

    I spent the last week of April in a vegetative state. Hyundai Beck tried to kill me. It’s not every day that the man you were devoted to tries to suck your restless, craving soul right out of your bosom. It left me feeling hopeless, enraged, and a little hungry. Were all men like that? How could I trust men anymore? I needed the hard bodies of gentlemen to keep me safe, but what if I couldn’t feel safe around them? I was in such a major dilemma.

    That last week of April, I was without a man by my side, which made me feel open to threat, without a shield to block me from the horrors and dangers of daily life. Luckily, I had Kigurl and Ronan by my side—most of the time. They listened to my rants and offered me advice, and I pretended to accept it. In reality, they had no idea what I was going through, what I was feeling. I felt so bleak without a knight protecting me, and they couldn’t understand that. But, I took what I can.

    Lydia wasn’t in school for that week either. I wasn’t exactly sure why; she wouldn’t pick up her phone or answer any text messages, and I began to worry just a little. I asked Ronan if she knew anything, and she vaguely responded with, “She’s doing…stuff.” I feared what she was up to, but I’m sure she wasn’t in as bad of a dilemma as I was. At least she had the comfort of her luxurious, non-curry-smelling home to guard her during her dark times. Me? I had nothing. I was as lonely as the white crayon. Except I prefer the black crayon—the color of my heart.

*

    On Saturday night, around nine o’clock, I wandered out of the house and into the dimly-light nightlife of our town. I was hoping to be approached by danger and Ian Somerhalder at the same time. No, Ian Somerhalder is danger, I thought. I desired for him to jump out of the bushes and carry me back home, kissing every crevice of my body. He would be a knight in shining armor, my knight. He wouldn’t break my heart. I couldn’t care less about the fact that he was eighteen years older than me; the older the guy was, the more compassionate he was. That’s why I adored Hugh Hefner so much. Unf, Hugh. I just wanted both Ian and Hugh to kidnap me and—

    “But why did he turn into a baby in the end?” It was Ronan’s voice. In the midst of my naughty fantasy, I realized I was in front of The Beanery, the local coffee shop that Lydia always struggles to look over because she’s in a devoted relationship with Starbucks, and the place where Ronan was supposed to meet Benny Gryzbowski’s dual-personality hunk of a brother, Chase. I spotted them stepping out of the warm shop, only to be greeted by a chilly wind passing through the spring night air. I hurried behind a tree so they wouldn’t see me.

    “I don’t know exactly, but I think it’s supposed to represent the struggle we humans go through to understand it all. But you can never fully comprehend everything, you know? Like you’re so close to grasping the truth…but you can’t.” Chase was wearing the sexy leather jacket of his, and he stood about one foot taller than Ronan. He looked much rather like an older brother to her than anything. Come to think of it, how old was Chase, anyways? Surely, he’s not in high school anymore.

    Ronan pushed her black hair over one shoulder. “What the fuck, man, I did not want to experience an existential crisis tonight,” she muttered. “Whatever, I guess that makes—” She paused, and scrunched her nose in the air, trying to smell something. She looked like a rabbit trying to sniff out carrots or human flesh or whatever those little demons consume. “Do you smell that? It smells like…like…”

    Chase narrowed his eyes. “Curry,” he breathed out. Crap, they know! I suddenly regret eating that second helping of Dad's delicious chicken curry for dinner, but I couldn't help it; the scent of curry was what brought all the boys to the yard.

    Now, Ronan and Chase would find me behind the tree, and they'll think I was spying on them, which I definitely was not doing. I had better things to do than spy on a short, most likely sociopathic band freak, and a schizophrenic narcotic whore.

    “Do you think it's that dick-loving friend of yours?” I wanted jump out from behind the tree and maul his perfectly-shaped face and wring out all those illegal drugs he had consumed over the years.

    “Mumu? Why would she be here?” Suddenly, an older guy in sagging skinny jeans passed by, singing an Indian song I recalled from my childhood. I was hit with a gust of nostalgia, and my stomach churned like butter as my cold heart was flooded with warm feelings.

    This man passing by smelled strongly of curry, specifically the one from my father's successful restaurant. Chase took a sniff of him as he passed by, pretended to choke on the scent upon taking a whiff. It's better than your stupid weed, I cursed in my head.

    The two looked at each other and grinned, having found the source of the odor ruining this cool, spring nighttime. Then, Chase pulled out his phone from his pocket and checked the time. "Dang, it's almost ten. I should probably take you home now, considering the fact that you lied to get out of the house." I saw Ronan blush. Over the course of the eight months I've known her, I've learned that her parents are a bit strict, and she usually tells little white lies to escape her house.

    As soon as they began walking, Ronan suddenly halted. Go away! I needed to escape quickly, but I could do so with so many obstacles. She peered across the street and I followed her gaze. It was Faeleb, stalking his way down the sidewalk. What's that little shit doing here? I groaned softly. I just wanted keep on wandering through town, not meet my odd friends.

    "It's that little homosexual niglet!" Chase exclaimed. "Wasn't there that drama between him and your blue-haired friend and that other slut? Dang, these high-schoolers…”

    "Yeah...what's he doing in front of Williams-Sonoma? That's like Lydia's favorite store." I could spy Faeleb, his pallid skin glowing under the dim streetlights as he watched the cookware shop in front of him intently. What's he doing? After looking around, he furtively entered the store, and through the shop window, I could see him checking out baking materials.

    "Is he buying bakeware?" Chase inquired. "That little niglet better not be trying to make pot brownies. That's my thing. That's how I get my money. I'm gonna go out of business if that potato starts selling at Hempstead High School. That's where most of my customers are," he frantically ranted, throwing his head in his hands.

    "Nah, he wouldn't do such a thing. He's too stupid for that," Ronan assured. "I think..." She squinted her eyes towards the fancy cookware store. "I think he might be buying stuff for Lydia!" What? I was heavily confused now. "Oh, and Chase...please get a new job."

    I mean, it makes sense, I guess. Lydia probably told him that she adored this place, but would he actually go out and buy her something? Maybe he was trying to get her to forgive him after that Trixie incident. Does he really care about her that much? I couldn't help to smile, and feel jealous at the same time. Why couldn't a boy buy things for me?

*

    Ronan and Chase slunk away after a while, discussing some Satan-worshipping hardcore bands as they passed. Finally, I got to escape from behind the ugly tree, and I was out once again in the gloriously dark night. I didn't bother spying on Faeleb; I couldn't care less about what he was doing out so late, even if he was buying presents for Lydia. Instead, I made my way to the nearby playground, which was destined to be barren and possibly lurking with hot guys.

    When I got there, I went immediately to the swings. I usually couldn't swing during the day because little brats are always there, and apparently it's rude to not let them go on before me. But now, there were no little maggots swarming around the swings like the vultures they are.

    However, when I sprinted over to the swings, I was met with an unexpected surprise. Sitting on one of those creaky swings was the most gorgeous boy I had ever seen in my life, and he was all mine for the taking.