Chapter Three
ANTHONY'S POINT OF VIEW
I watched as Amelia got into the car slowly and cautiously. I looked back at the house. I would have to apologize to my cousin later for not helping him clean up. I slammed the car door closed. I got in on the other side. I started the car, and put my seatbelt on. I quickly glanced at Amelia. She looked shaken. Her hands were trembling and I could tell she was nervous; or afraid.
I started driving once the heating and everything was set. It was quiet. Completely silent. The only sound there was was the sound of the heater. I wanted to talk to Amelia. I wanted her to talk to me. But, did she even want to talk to me? She kept being rude to me when I was trying to be nice. But, then again, I knew she only acted this way because of 'the gang'.
"Where do you live?" I asked softly. I couldn't take the silence anymore. I wanted to hear her speak.
"2826 Marblois," she answered quietly, without looking my way. Her eyes were fixed on the huge houses that passed us. Were the houses more interesting than I was?
I looked straight ahead,not allowing myself to be distracted by Amelia. Amelia Natera. Everything a guy wanted. Everything I wanted. Amelia is beautiful. Her green eyes are gorgeous, and her blonde hair is soft and smooth. She has fair skin. She has beautiful fine facial features. A cute little nose, big expressive eyes, and soft fully shaped lips. Well, I can only imagine that her lips are soft. Atleast I knew what if felt like to stare into her eyes. Even if it had only been a few seconds.
Amelia should be popular. She deserved to be popular. Why shouldn't she? She could take out Kayla any day. Amelia didn't have the right clothes, or right amount of money. But, I knew why Kayla didn't want Amelia to be popular. I had overheard her speaking to her best friend Anne once. Kayla knew that if Amelia was accepted into the popular crowd, boys would be swooning over Amelia. Not her. Like other guys, I think Amelia is gorgeous. But I actually want to get to know her, unlike other guys. And I want to help her. She deserves better.
Like many other guys, I fell in love as she stepped foot into Richardson East High. Like many other girls, Kayla was jealous. Kayla was all over me. She was all over her friends, making sure to pay for them on their shopping trips. I tried to talk to Amelia all week. I wanted to help her around the school, invite her to lunch, or join her while studying. Everytime I tried, Kayla was there to stop me. When Amelia and I collided into eachother, I finally had the chance to talk to her. Maybe even ask her to join me for lunch to study history together. To ask her anything. But, I couldn't. I was too nervous. I told her sorry, helped her up, and gave her a smile. She didn't respond.
I was hoping Amelia would talk to me for the whole week. Kayla was the problem. She clearly didn't want Amelia to be close to me or any other guys. Kayla also made it clear to the whole school that Amelia would never be popular, and that she was a total loser.
People were nice to Amelia. People also decided to ruin it for her. The gang. They were intimidating, tough, and wouldn't take no for an answer. Amelia thought they were the only ones who accepted her. That was what got me angry. They were using Amelia as their toy. They made her think they were the only ones left. They started making her follow them around everywhere. They were clearly enjoying their game.
"Why did you want to know who Nate was?" she asked suddenly. Her voice was still low.
Nate. His name was Nate. Was that her
date? No. It couldn't have been. Hadn't Trevor and Isabella drove
her? I didn't know what to answer her. Jealousy washed over me as I
remembered how happy Amelia looked. "I was just wondering,"
I answered her.
More silence.
"I'm sorry about all this,"
she said.
"This isn't any of your fault,"
"Yes,
it is. They're my friends,"
I laughed darkly. How ABSURD was
that? "You consider them your friends, Amelia?"
No
answer. I heard her sniff and inhale. Was she crying? This was
probably the only night I had with her. I didn't want to make her
cry. I stopped my car at a red light. I turned to looked at her.
"Amelia, please don't cry. I didn't mean it..I thought..I'm
sorry,"
Still no answer. She hadn't looked at me for the
whole car ride. I wanted to grab her hand, and pull her into a hug.
But what permission did I have to touch her? My heart sank. I had to
stop reminding myself.
I sighed. "Amelia...I won't say
anything anymore if you don't want me to,"
"No!"
she burst out suddenly. I stared at her, puzzled. She did want me to
talk to her?
"Please do talk. I-I'm fine," she stuttered. She finally looked at me. Her eyes glistened under the street lights and her face was wet. I wanted to wipe her tears away. I couldn't help but stare at her as she looked back at me. It only lasted a few seconds. She glanced outside. "Its green," she told me.
I looked away from her to the road. If it meant Amelia was going to talk to me, and looked at me, I would stay here. No matter what the street light indicated. Amelia was looking out the window again. She occasionally glanced at me. I was nervous. I tapped my fingers nervously against the steering wheel. What should I say to her? What should I talk to her about? I wanted to get to know Amelia. I hesitated. I didn't want to come out sounding like a dork. Oh God. I, Anthony Miller, was nervous...scared to talk to a girl.
"So, where's your dad at?" I
finally said. Realization hit me. God, I sounded so dumb. "I
mean..I heard that you don't talk to your dad very often so I
wondered-" I stopped. I sounded like a stalker now.
"My
parents are divorced," she answered me simply.
"Oh.
Sorry about that," I looked away. I bit my tongue. Shutting up
would be the best way to save myself from embarrassment.
I stayed
silent for a while and so did she. "How's you relationship with
your mom?" I asked.
"She's usually working,"
"Do
you have any siblings?"
"I have a sister. Her name is
Rebecca. She's twenty-eight,"
"No brothers for me to
worry about when I pull up in your driveway?" I looked over at
Amelia. She was still looking out the window, but she was smiling. I
couldn't help but to smile myself.
"No brothers," she
finally answered, looking my way. I smiled at her, and she smiled
back. She had the most gracious smile. Her lips were full, and
symmetrical. She showed two rows of perfect straight white teeth. I
saw Amelia had worn lipgloss. She almost never did. Her lips looked
more plump. If only I could—
My fantasy stopped when I heard several people honking at me. Right. The road. Drive. My mind had gone blank. What were we talking about? I looked at Amelia. She was looking out the window again. Her cheeks were red and she seemed to be making herself as small as possible. I shouldn't have stared at her like that. I probably made her feel self-conscious.
I
glanced at my radio. That was something easy to talk about. Music.
"What kind of music do you like?" I asked.
"Anything,
really. I'm open to all,"
"Cool," I replied
lamely.
"Except country, classical, and hardmetal/rock,"
I half-smiled. I was glad she was talking more. "Me too," I
replied. "Hip-hop, rap, R&B, techno, trance, electro house.
Rock, too," She didn't say anything, so I continued. "I'm
really open to anything,"
She
just nodded in response, just when I thought she was going to talk a
little more. I sighed quietly. "Are you sure you want me to talk
to you?" I asked, trying not to show disappointment.
Amelia
sighed. "You're Anthony Miller," she replied.
"And
you're Amelia Natera. Your point?"
"People
like you don't talk to me. They ignore me!"
"I
thought I was different. Do you really think I'm just another popular
guy who doesn't care about anything else but himself?"
"No,
Anthony. You're not like that. But, that still doesn't mean you
should be talk to me. Apparently, no one in Richardson East High
should be talking to me!"
I
turned into a store parking lot. I looked at Amelia. "Everyone
wanted to talk to you, Amelia! Everyone welcomed you! But, the gang
trapped you! They manipulated you!"
Amelia
was crying, and I was shouting. Why was she crying? Maybe I was too
harsh.
"No
one welcomed me. They forgot about me two seconds later. Only the
gang remembered me!" she sobbed, "Why do you care, Anthony?
You're rich, smart, and..." She coughed up some more
sobs.
Despite
whether I had the permission to, I grabbed her hand. "Amelia...the
gang doesn't give a crap
about you! You're such a gorgeous girl. Every guy wanted you that
first day. Even I
wanted
you. People were being nice to you, welcoming you! I heard people
talking about you. They liked you," I couldn't control what was
coming out of my mouth now. I couldn't control my tone, my words, my
brain...nothing. I just held onto her hand. I watched her cry. I
watched her hide her face from me. I felt like I was out of my own
body; that I was watching myself from the outside. I couldn't snap
back to reality.
I
slowly lifted her chin for her to face me. Red eyes and all, she was
still beautiful. "They don't care about you, Amelia. They never
will. Take the truth,"
AMELIA'S POINT OF VIEW
I couldn't take the truth. Deep down, I know the truth. But, I was always oblivious to it. I didn't want to know the truth. Even the little truth I admit hurts. They aren't real friends. But, the big truth I didn't want to admit was now already loose. I had always refused to say it, to think it. I knew the truth, and I wanted it to stay that way. I never made the thought cross my mind. Ever. Not knowing the truth was what kept me going. And I was tonight; having the truth layed out in front of me. They don't care about me. They never will. I'm just as invisible to them as I am to the rest of the school. I'm just another whisp of wind.
I looked at Anthony. He was holding my hand, and holding my chin up for me to face him. Anthony hadn't hurt me. The truth had. For a second, I let myself slip, and I melted into Anthony's eyes. I held his gaze. I felt his soft warm touch. I took in the feeling of our fingers intertwined together. And then it all stopped. Reality finally woke me. He had wanted me. Does he still want me, now that I left everything to go be with these people? Does he still want me, realizing how idiotic I was? That truth hurt, too. I was an idiot. I didn't pay attention to anything else except my own self-consciousness. I had lost everything. Real friends, social life, and maybe even a shot with Anthony. The gang had taken over my brain; made me believe nothing but lies.
I couldn't take this anymore. The truth, something I had been avoiding for so long, was set free. And it hit me hard. Too hard. I had stopped crying, afraid of what Anthony would see. Now, I was just gasping for air and control. My throat felt raw, and it burned. I felt an unrealalistic pain forming in my chest. The truth was causing it. The truth has stabbed me right in the heart. I needed air. The car seemed to be getting smaller, almost as if it was running out of air. I let go of Anthony's hand, turning away. I blindly grabbed the door handle.
"I have to go," I
choked out. I shut the car door, heading for the sidewalk.
"Amelia!"
I heard him shout.
I ignored him. I was drowning in the own truth
of my life. The pain was unbearable. The knife had gone too deep.