It was my third week back when Chelsea finally had time in her busy social schedule, to come talk to me. You’d think that Chelsea would be the most shallow person to come talk to me, but in reality she was the only one who really understood my pain.
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Her sister had died from leukaemia three years before. She approached me cautiously not certain if I was in the mood to talk. I beckoned her forward, indicating that I wasn't doing anything of importance anyways.
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“hey. So do you wanna talk about it?” She asked.
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I was sitting on my front lawn when she came and sat down next to me, plopping her green shoulder bag on the ground beside her.
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“no, not particularly. Do you wanna talk about it?”
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I knew that all this talking about my dad’s death and disease was probably beginning to get really hard on her. People tried to avoid the subject of Mia, Chelsea’s sister, but now it was sort of like deja vu, just from a different perspective.
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“ I don’t know. I’m sort of jealous of them sometimes, you know? Like I know they’re dead, but at least they don't have to deal with everything. They know we’re safe, but what about us? We’re left wondering. Wondering if they’ll be okay, wondering if they’re still here or if religion and after life and all that is just bullshit that people invented to stop these feelings.”
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I stood there for a few moments. It would have been easier if Chelsea had shouted those things. Because then I would have known that she was angry. But she hadn't shouted those things. She had said them quietly, softly. Like she was contemplating something.
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“ Maybe it’s for them best that we don’t know. Humans found out about other planets, now they’re all making plans about how to ruin and corrupt them as well as ours. Maybe they’re safer if we don't know.”
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Chelsea smiled. Like I had just slightly eased her mind. We said our goodbyes then she left. In reality I didn’t believe a thing I had just told her. Well except for the part that humans ruin everything. That part I believed whole heartedly. But the part about us just not knowing where the dead went when they left us, I had no idea. It just came to me seconds before I said it.
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Suddenly a shadow fell over me. I looked up to find some dark hair blue-eyed guy staring down at me.
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“ Hey, do you mind moving. I’ve been cooped up in a house, growing paler than ever for two weeks. I’m trying to soak some sun up.”
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The guy laughed.
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“ So sorry. Mind if I sit with you?”
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Unlike most parents, mine never gave me stupid advice like ‘don’t talk to strangers’ or anything like that. No. My parents focused on more important life lessons, like keeping up with politics, and learning to choose sides. (that last one meant school nights spent in local cafes listening to debates)
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It probably never even occurred to them to tell me not to talk to strangers, purely because of their belief in my intelligence. If I was ever lost, like my sister in the subway station, I would have to ask for directions from most likely, a stranger. They knew I wouldn't purposely go up to strangers for no reason.
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So when this dark haired blue-eyed stranger asked to sit with me, my response was
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“sure, go ahead.”
He sat down on the freshly mowed grass next to me,and leaned against his backpack.
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“you’re Lindsey, right?” he asked, not wasting anytime for awkward silence.
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“Yeah.”
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“ Would you like to know who I am?”
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God, this guy liked to talk!
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“ Sure. Who are you.” I asked in mock interest.
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“Well, since you asked,” he gave me a sheepish smile, “my name is Elliot.”
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“ that’s nice.” I answered.
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“ Why, thank you Lindsey. It is a rather nice name, isn't it.”
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“That’s not exactly what I meant, but yeah. I agree it is a nice name.”
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This got an outright smile out of him.
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“so, since I figure your not that great with small talk, I’m going to tell you my life story.”
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This really caught my attention. I hated listening to peoples problems. I did it, but I hated it. I hated the way they all thought they were special, and that know one else in the world was feeling the same way they did. I hated that they always suspected some kind of sympathy from me when they were finished. But most of all, I hated that their opinions couldn't be changed. I would know for a fact, that people are going through a much worse time in their lives than their petty concerns, but they just wouldn't get it. Eventually I just stopped with my opinions, and told them what they wanted to hear.
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“ Please don’t.”
Elliot looked at me with a fake shocked expression.
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“What?! You don’t want to hear the amazing story of Elliot Taylor?”
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For the first time in two weeks, I smiled. Not a fake smile, but a real genuine smile. Elliot’s aura was so dramatic and fake, that it wasn’t. It was like his vail of dramatic flare was slowly becoming a true part of him.
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And that was when I realized that Elliot might be a good person to keep around. He had found his own way of dealing with his problems, so I wasn't in any danger of having to put up with them.
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“ As entertaining as that sounds, no. I don’t particularly want to hear the story of you life.”
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He went silent for a few moments, his expression turning into one of deep thought, until finally he shouted:
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“ I’ve got it! Lindsey…” He abruptly stopped mid sentence, looking horrified.
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“ what? Did you see something? What’s wrong with you?”
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He looked at me so seriously I was starting to get concerned.
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“I don’t know your last name!”
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I stared at him unbelievably.
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“ Roth.” I finally said.
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“ Kay. I’ll start from the top.”
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He stage coughed then went back to his ‘in deep thought’ expression.
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“I’ve got it! Lindsey Roth, tonight, we are going to a party.”
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before I could even say anything he interrupted me.
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“ No. I need your middle name as well. It’ll sound way better with a middle name.”
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this time I answered right away, finally catching onto the strange non existent logic of Elliot Taylor.
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“ Silvera”
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he nodded, then re-started his routine.
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“ I’ve got it! Lindsey Silvera Roth, tonight, we are going to a party.”
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“no.”
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He looked as if I had just slapped him across the face.
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“ come again.”
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“ I said no. Social gatherings aren’t really my thing.”
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“ what do you mean? Social gatherings are like the civil wars of our high school experience! I understand that you may not want to go for the actual party, but you must go for the politics of it.”
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I stared at him blank faced. Was he actually relating high school to politics? I guess looking back, I should have saw it coming.
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“ I don’t want to go! It just means a couple hours of me standing in a corner by myself. I can do that in the comfort of my own home.”
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Now it’s not that I don’t know how to be social, I do. It’s just that I don’t really like loud environments where I’m pressured to drink and do stupid things.
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“ come on! We don’t have to go for the whole thing, just for the ending.” Elliot pleads.
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“ why the ending?” I ask, my curiosity getting the better if me.
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“ Two reasons. Number one, if I had said that we’re going for the first part, you could have found the excuse of saying that I’m lying and that I’ll actually make you stay for the whole thing, (which I would.) and number two, the best part of the party just happens to be the ending. The drama, the heart breaks, the betrayal! It’s just so much fun to watch.”
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I don’t say anything for a while. I’ve been in high school for two years and the people who have known me since I was five, have never been able to get me to a party. Elliot has known me for exactly seven minutes and has already persuaded me.
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“ Okay, I’ll go, But only for the last hour.”
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Elliot grins. “ great! I’ll pick you up at eleven.”
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