a study of cara evelyn

five

Her name was Cara Evelyn. She had a certain way of walking that pretty much aggravated everyone around her; she was too slow.

I felt extremely uncomfortable for being looked at while taking a casual stroll on a busy street. Cara, on the other hand, was far too invested in explaining the protest's chief goals to notice. I tried to ignore it, but instead got distracted by everything and ended up paying attention to nothing.

"Sorry, what?" I kept fidgeting with my sweater, awkwardly trying to pull it down. Cara narrowed her eyebrows and shook her head. I felt bad for not listening but her vast vocabulary of pretentious words was a little tough to keep up with at times.

"Good thing you're pretty, huh?" She remarked, chuckling. I didn't know whether to be flattered or offended, so I pretended not to hear it. After a minute or two of silence, she playfully nudged my shoulder.

"So," she began. "What's your muse? What's the thing that gives you purpose?"

I felt she was waiting to he impressed, so I quickly jogged through my list of hobbies in my head, trying to analyse how prestigious each one would sound out loud. After a moment, I decided on my best bet.

"I paint."

"You're a painter?" She beamed, her eyes lacing with amusement.

"Well," I shrugged. "Not officially. Its mainly something I do in my free time."

"Ah, a struggling painter. A profession that can literally drive you crazy."

Before I could ask what her muse was, she grabbed onto my sleeve and pulled me towards the bus stop. The bus was already piling people in, getting ready to leave and we managed to make it with a victorious second to spare.

The woman who was driving the bus gave us apathetic looks as Cara used her bus pass and I used cash.

We sat across from each other, mutually agreeing to give each other space.

"So," I said, trying to fill the silence. "What do you do?"

She sighed. "I'm attending a community college not far from here."

Cara didn't seem very amused to admit it, a fact I found strange. She seemed like a person who would value education (we were headed to a protest to preserve it, after all), yet she wasn't thrilled to share that piece of information.

I wanted to pry, as I was human, and that was my natural instinct, but I thought against it. Instead I crossed my legs under me until they were "criss cross apple sauce".

"So, what grade are you in? Eighth?" Cara laughed, referring to my seating position, which I immediately felt awkward about. I laughed, naturally, and put my feet down.

"I didn't say it was bad."

"No, its just that my foot would fall asleep."

She shrugged her shoulders and crossed her legs underneath her until she was "criss cross apple sauce". I felt cheated.

After twenty minutes of riding the bus and talking about common things, Cara pulled the cord to get the bus to stop. I followed her until we were outside. It shocked me to see that it was already dark, considering it had just struck half past six. I shook my head and concentrated on following Cara while she ran towards the crowd outside the Chicago Board Of Education.

It was a crowd of about thirty people, chanting the same thing- education is the key, you cannot take that away from me.

People of all ages, teenagers, adults, elderly held signs and exercised their voice. Cara guided me through the mob, hugging people she knew, but not introducing them.

Finally, we arrived to a group with backpacks and Dorritos in their hands.

"Austin, this is..."

And Cara went down the line, naming every person and adding a little description.

Leah; she's a student teacher for a nearby high school.

James; his ten year old sister's favourite teacher was about to lose her job.

Christina; her dream job was to be part of the Special Ed Programme.

Raymond; he brought the snacks.

James, who was chomping on chips, asked how we met.

"We met when Austin broke his phone on the corner of Lincon." Cara answered, reaching for the bag of chips in James' hand.

"I didn't break it."

"You sure as hell didn't fix it."

"Touché." I nodded.

Christina laughed, Leah didn't seem to pay attention and James smiled. Raymond simply gripped his sign tighter and started walking towards the crowd that was protesting. Moments later, I felt Cara grabbing my sleeve and pulling me behind her as she followed Raymond.

After about three minutes of standing idly and getting pushed by the crowd, I finally tapped Cara's shoulder.

She took a step closer to me, so that she could hear me through the chants of people.

"Yeah?"

"How do you protest?"

She laughed and then handed me her sign. I grabbed it carefully, the object foreign in my hands.

"Annoy eveyone and don't take no for an answer!"