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Should We Know?

C. Carraway-Caulfield


We Know?

  1

  For reasons I wont get into I was starting two month after everyone else at H.M Scholarly. My older sister is the Student President, so the Student Council members who showed me to my room and helped me with all my luggage, were extra nice, or maybe everyone was like that here, I just assumed it was because of my sister. My room- the place I would be calling home for the academic year, and maybe a little past that- is small but I think its better that way, you get less lonely in smaller places, where there’s just less space for people to be. You might call it small, but for me, it was just about right, I would have preferred a bigger window, but my expectations weren’t high to begin with anyway. The Council members put my bags down in the corner furthest from the door and all wished me ‘good luck’ in my year with some of the biggest smiles- they looked like they hurt. I hadn’t seen smiles like those, or any really, in a while, it was a little unsettling, but nice. They all said what duties they had to do and rushed along. One of the girls stayed behind, she offered to make my bed, ‘guys often leave it last when they’re most tired, that’s just my experience helping all the freshers’ she had said. I didn’t mind, so I found my bed clothes, as I called them and handed them to her- I tried out a smile, she didn’t look at me weird so I think it was okay.

  I took out my Bluetooth speaker from my bag and started to play some music from my phone, I don’t do well in quiet rooms; I find small talk especially difficult to deal with. Taking Back Sunday was the first band to fill the room after my finger left the shuffle button. The Council member making my bed smiled a more natural smile; she seemed to relax and looked up at me, her burgundy ponytail swinging violently. “I should have known you had great taste in music” I didn’t know what that meant but I thanked her, “you know they should be touring soon”. I pretended to look through one of my suitcases, just to give my hands something to do. I think hands are so awkward, I never know what to do with them and I think that’s where I got my hair twirling compulsion, but I wear hats now to stop that in front of people. “Maybe we can go see them sometime” I said, I thought this was a polite, kind, cool thing to say; I never know what’s normal in situations. I looked up from my suitcase and there she was, right in front of me, apparently she was done with my bed, “yeah that would be a lot of fun, here take my number and give me a call if you see any good concerts, it doesn’t have to be them, I don’t mind”. And that was that I had her number and she was gone. She looked really happy, I don’t know if she was always like that, or if it was the music.

  I unpacked my essentials first, just so it would really be home, you know. I set up my TV and game consoles across from my bed for optimum comfort when I watched films. I know most students don’t have a TV in their room but I cant sleep by myself in a room without a television, don’t ask me why. I pinned my Smiths poster in front of my desk, to act as motivation, or a distraction, they’re the same thing. And lastly I pinned my Liverpool FC poster up by the head of my bed- it had creases all over it and tears at the corners, it’s been in every room I had to sleep in since I was like five. I had more to unpack, but now it was home, the rest would take forever to get perfect but this was all I need at very least.

  I couldn’t really unpack anything else anyway because I had an appointment with a ‘Guidance and Enlightenment Mentor’, because I was starting later than everyone else. Her room was literally full of motivational cat posters; I mean there were actual piles (yes plural) of them in corners (yes plural). Asha Ober, she told me to call her Ash-Ash, was really beautiful, I don’t know why, but I didn’t expect her to be, I don’t mean that in a mean way or anything. She was in her mid-twenties I would say, long blonde hair that seemed to go brown in different light, but she had the nicest green eyes I had ever seen. I think green eyes can look a little intimidating sometimes, but hers were warm. I never saw warm as an adjective to use for eyes before I met her. She talked a lot. She talked about how boarding school was a great experience and I could find myself and I could lose myself and I could experiment and I could find family, not just friends, but family, she said. She touched my knee occasionally when she felt like a point needed emphasising I suppose. I zoned out if I’m being honest. I mean I know what she wanted to say and why- she just wanted me to feel comfortable. But I couldn’t help but wondering if she meant the words she was saying and if she had a boyfriend, or girlfriend, and how she talked to them, did she touched their knee too? “There’s a literary social tonight, you like literature I remember, it’s a great way to meet new people, especially since it’s a Saturday and your first lessons wont be until Monday…obviously”. I don’t know why she added the ‘obviously’. I never know why people add the obviously. I nodded politely anyway and promised myself to force myself to go tonight.

  I went back to my room to get ready. I’m so glad I made it home before I left; it brought a little comfort to my soul. Putting on a shirt and rolling up the sleeves I looked in the mirror before I left, my eyes were always darker than I remembered them. I wrapped my burgundy scarf around my neck, covering half of my face and settled. I decided against the scarf.

  The literary social was in the upstairs of a pub near campus. It was a small space and had about forty chairs arranged in rows facing what I assumed would be the stage, or performance space I guess. I got a double vodka and lemonade and sat down on one of the chairs, at the back…obviously. People performed poems for the first 30 minutes and then everyone got up to chat and drink and be students. I sucked down the rest of my drink and forced myself to tell one of the poets that I really liked her poem. She was this really cool looking girl, she was the kind of girl you would see in an art gallery or a film screening of a 80s movie, by herself. She was wearing an oversized jumper, which she held by the wrists, scattered with holes I think she made herself, and through those I caught glimpse of tattoos on her tanned skin. She had the longest hair I had ever seen on a person, my fingers twitched, as the ends of her hair, which were dyed subtly gold, caressed her hips and lower as she swayed while she performed. Her jeans had holes as well, but not the kind you see on ripped jeans in the stores, her jeans just looked like she wore them throughout her wars. There was even a hole by her crotch, which I noticed later that night, I think she was wearing Pokémon underwear, but I didn’t look for too long, it was impolite. I think holes were her thing, because even her trainers had them too, one on each foot where her big toes peered out to the world. I saw her socks- one red, one blue. And she tied her laces at the back by her Achilles with two bows, like her feet were presents or something. She didn’t wear a lot of makeup, but black clouds encased her silky brown eyes- they were so light, if she didn’t have that eye shadow I think her eyes would just melt into her skin. She had a gold septum piercing that danced whenever she smiled; I noticed that later too. “Thank so much, I’m Liebe by the way, you can call me Lie or Lielo, I’ve never seen you around, so you must be new?” I nodded my head and she took my arm and dragged me to a corner of the room where two people were standing.

  “This is Nicholas, but we call her Niche”. She looked me dead in the eyes, which I always found unnerving; she didn’t even politely look away once. She had, what I can only describe as creamy skin, she was pale, but not unhealthy pale or anything, it looked like she could sit sunbathing for a week and not look any different than she did. She had the straightest hair too, her centre part looked like she used a ruler. Her soft brown hair didn’t go with her personality I thought- her hair was warm…ish…but she was cold- her hair should have really melted her along time ago I thought when I said hi to her, which made me smile. Her voice said I-know-more-on-this-topic-than-you-but-nice-try and I could tell she spoke like this all the time. She waved at me with the hand that wasn’t holding a battered Ha
rry Potter book and on her wrist she had ‘Daddy, I have had to kill you.’ tattooed.

  “And this is Solid Snake. Yes that is his actual name actually changed by the actual law”. I don’t want to say he looked like a typical gamer addict, because I don’t want to reduce him to a stereotype but his crazy unwashed hair, Mickey Mouse jumper (dressed as Link from The Legend of Zelda games), skinny ugly jeans and massive untied Doc Martins, all screamed gamer to me…also the Nintendo DS sticking out of his pocket. He was very nice though, much friendly than Nicholas, or Niche (She has a weird name, but cool I guess), he shook my hand with two of his and seemed like he didn’t want to let go. I wondered if had any tattoos. Was my lack of tattoos abnormal? I had no idea what was normal anymore.

  “Komorebi, but you can just call me Rebi”

  I guess it just happened, we were friends now. Well they were friends with each other, and they had decided to let me in I guess. I assumed this as I sat on an old