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Chapter 22 – The Popular Table

The loud chatters and thrilled exclamations among the throng of ravenous adolescents greeted us as we entered the cafeteria.

As was customary, the diverse casts of youth assembled in clusters, ready to wage a war, or more specifically, a food fight if territories were crossed.

The jocks huddled in the leftmost corner in silent contemplation—perhaps formulating a new game play since the baseball team pretty much sucked last season. The band members tuned their respective instruments, filling the air with the occasional honk and the thrumming of drumsticks against the edge of the tables, earning them the discernible wicked glares from the a knot of seven— four boys and three girls—each in complete black wardrobe.

On the rearmost spot, opposite the posse of musicians, the geeks convened with unobtrusive mumbles over home works and books. But mostly, they would be caught gawping, watching everyone else they deemed remarkable enough for their wild-eyed astonishment.

Soon enough, the cheery conversations hushed down into a hum of streaming murmurs and mutterings. Eyes started to dart on us, especially Becky as she headed quite boldly to the table in the middle of the hall where Matt and the rest of the popular kids sat, still seemingly amused with themselves, oblivious of the glum ambiance that took over the whole room in a matter of seconds.

Only a few people were familiar to me. Charrie Bolton sat leaning close to a brown-haired boy with high cheek bones and large teeth, each one, the size of big chicklets. Her two other friends, Miranda the red head and the dark skinned Keisha sat with two other boys.

I don’t recognize the others though it wouldn’t be hard to tell their status through the cheerleader uniforms and the varsity jackets.

Matt sat on the rightmost end of the long table, appearing to wallow in his thoughts, slouching on his seat, chin resting on his hand. Mike Sullivan sat two arm lengths away, sniggering with the rest of the football team as Leigh Murough, my former best friend sat contentedly beside him.

Leigh’s buoyant gaze finally fell on us with a bright smile trailing on her lips. “Matt, here she comes.”

Matt shuffled from his lazy slump to his feet in a breeze as if doused with cold water and darted across the hall to lead Becky to a seat beside him. Eyeing surreptitiously at Leon who appeared rather impassive more than intimidated, Matt gestured for us to sit on the available seats next to him.

My feet solidified on the ground and if it wasn’t for Leon’s gentle tug against my hand, I wouldn’t be able to stagger my way through the crowd. Feeling dozens of pairs of eyes boring into my skull again, I slumped on the bench halfheartedly and watched Leon disappear along the horde of students to get something to eat, though I feverishly doubted I could hold anything down.

Becky sat rather heedlessly in front of me, staring as Matt’s immense hand enveloped hers almost automatically. She threw me a trilled smile.

Mike leaned from the other end of the slab while playing with a bendy straw. “So Captain, you’ve got some new… interesting friends,” he snorted in a peevish manner that irritated me. “Won’t you introduce them to us?”

Mike Sullivan had a husky built, even brawnier than Matt though not necessarily muscular. I’d say he possessed a more pronounced bone structure, evident on his limbs, torso and even his strong jaws. Secretly, I wondered who would win if he and Matt ended up in brawl.

Letting out an exasperated grunt, Matt shuffled uneasily and glugged the last of his fruit smoothie until the straw made a loud gurgling sound against the empty paper cup.

“Mike… Leigh,” he cocked his chin on the big, russet-haired boy then to Leigh beside him, who sat with a delighted smile. “That’s Drake, Larson, Chuck and Reed.” He motioned his hand to the chicklet-toothed boy beside Charrie, the pale chink-eyed boy with black hair, and the two other tall but slender freckly blonds who more than slightly resemble each other; one having lighter hair than the other, respectively.

“I believe you’re familiar with Charrie, Miranda and Keisha.” He gestured to three girls who threw us inhospitable pretend smiles. “Those two are Marion and Gwen,” His finger shot to the skinny blonds in cheerleader uniforms who exchanged meaningful glances before resolutely forking on their lunch as if we were nonexistent beings.

Matt finally twisted his torso and cocked his chin to our direction. “Becky, and Nerdy,” he sneered giving emphasis on the last word.

Just in time, Leon came with a couple of clubhouse sandwiches and ice cold cola. It was really confusing but I took a crack at remembering each name and face.

Stretching his arms, Mike yawned − or pretended to, then protruded his foot athwart Leon’s route as the latter nudged his way back to the popular table.

Wearing a slight ingenuous smile on his face, Leon lurched himself in a swift reaction, evidently seeing through Mike’s intent, then pivoted a few inches away from the trick, toppling a soda can from his tray. His right hand veered in a fraction of a second and snatched the can before it touched the floor while his other hand carried the serving dish. I hadn’t realized that my jaw almost fell off its hinges.

“Err… that was close,” he muttered flatly as he parked himself down the seat with much refinement.

He lifted my chin to close my gaping mouth with a bemused smile playing on his lips as Mike grumbled rolling his eyes between an upset and flustered front.

Matt sniggered silently on my left.

“Where did you learn that, man? You’re pretty fast,” Drake exclaimed then sniggered furtively at Mike.

Mike grunted and muttered exasperatedly. “In a circus probably.”

If Leon had heard Mike’s sarcastic remarks or ignored it deliberately, it was difficult to tell. Nevertheless, I chanced a roguish smirk materialize on his perfect lips that propelled my heart into a tiring gallop.

“Wicked moves you got there. You in any sports?” Reed, one of the freckly boys with lighter hair, almost grayish gold leaned forward with an awed air about him.

Leon shrugged. “A little basketball,” he replied sparingly, perhaps deciding to stick to his cover.

“Matt, you’ve got to make this guy… Uh—“ Reed’s hazel eyes narrowed as he rummaged inside his brain to remember Leon’s name but failed.

“Leonard,” Leon replied almost instinctively.

“You’ve got to make Leonard here try out for the next season,” Reed went on. He bent over the table and slapped Matt on the back who then retorted with silent impassiveness.

Avoiding his dark eyes, I turned my attention to the soda can and fumbled on the lid as I tried to even out my breathing. I knew my anxiety was irrational but I couldn’t help but feel the guilt sinking on the pit of my stomach with his every stare. Lying was the hardest thing in the world, but being forced to deceive Leon and Becky was even more difficult.

“I’m not sure.” With a casual façade, Leon took the can, flipped the lid then replaced it on my trembling hands. “I might not be here next—“ His lips pressed together in a tight line as his eyes shifted on Matt, Becky, then to me with an incomprehensible air.

His words took several moments to sink in. My throat burned with a swollen throb that hacked the flow of air into my lungs as though I was being strangled and drowned at once.

My eyes trailed around and caught oblivious glances from Becky and Matt, though the latter’s expression lightened a bit, just about amused.

That’s right. You liked that, didn’t you? My blood boiled like oil in a deep-fryer at the thought of him rejoicing on the possibility that Leon would be gone in no time.

“That’s too bad,” Drake commented with a rueful smile.

I swallowed the burning lump and plastered a smile on my face. “Leonard’s family moves… a lot.” My voice quivered at the wrong places but I kept a straight face on.

Everyone else was unaware of the gravity of Leon’s words except for me, though the unnatural silence insinuated that atmosphere was slightly influenced by my unexpected reaction.

The rest of the day passed without any mention of it. An excruciating detachment between me and Leon began to surface through the remoteness in his eyes, the indifference in the way he held my hands.

The deafening silence that prevailed between us for what seemed like hours plagued my thoughts as his car slowed to a quiet stop in front of my house.

My eyes fixed on him in some hope that he would at least say something. Deep inside, I prayed he would deny that he would have to leave soon and claim that it was just a force of habit; that he didn’t really mean every word of it. None came.

Leon’s unreadable features altered infinitesimally as his jaws stiffened, but his eyes still gazed dully on the empty street

“I’ll see you… later,” I mumbled.

Rather hesitantly, my fingers groped on the door of the car before stumbling to the doorstep of Emma’s porch, blinking the mist that had formed on the sides of my eyes.

In a way, he had fed me with promises he had wanted to keep but couldn’t. The twinge of torture in my chest left me thunderstruck as the sense of panic gnawed on my insides inch by inch.

As I reached for the handle, I heard Leon let out an exasperated yell followed by the loud slam of the car door. Before I could even blink the daze, his hand was already wrapped forcefully around my wrist, towing me to Arthur’s house in a spur of the moment.

I caught my breath as he quickened his pace, every lithe stride equal to two of mine. I was a limp rag doll again, unable to resist even if I wanted to.

Neither his heavy footfalls nor his tense hands relaxed when we trudged up the stairs, swerved on the left turn to the plain beige hallway. We passed by two doors and an empty black and gold vase placed on a small rectangular stand with silver trimmings. There were no paintings, portraits or any embellishment on the stark walls where you would expect one.

At the end of the corridor, a lotus plant floated on a shallow navy blue porcelain vase, a tiny rosy bulb in the center gleaming against the rays of the setting sun that was sieved by the huge red spruce that stood outside. Passing through the lightly tinted panels of the balcony, Leon slowed down.

On the left, before the hallway ended, Leon twisted to face a carved wooden door, opened it and towed me inside, only pausing to close it behind him. My chest thumped into a frantic race as soon as I heard the door seal with a soft click.

It took me a few seconds to take in everything.

The bare spacious room was nearly as big as Emma’s living room. Like the foyers, the midnight blue walls were empty except for an oddly-shaped blue wall clock that looked like a slab of cobalt which was melted, flattened then cool without sculpting the distorted edges. It ticked loudly and for a few seconds, it was all that I could hear.

The only audience to our mute quarrel were a huge black grand piano to the left facing the glass panels of the veranda, a bookshelf that lined the south wall teeming with an array of rather meticulously organized books, a rack where a blue guitar hung motionlessly, a set of chaise longue centered by a pale marble table, and a single plain bed at the rear, close by the window.

Panting for breath, I shook my head. I wanted so much to get any explanation from him, claiming his promises as some form of foothold. But with one slip of his tongue, it brought me the realization how crazy I had been. I demanded the impossible from him.

The lump in my throat surged again, choking me as the uninvited tears begun obscuring my view of him. The void in his eyes troubled me.

I breathed in and swallowed. “Look, Leon. I don’t want to… to hold you back from what’s best for you.” My voice broke in all the wrong places as the words came pouring in. “I know I made you promise… How could I have been so selfish? I knew from the beginning that this wouldn’t work. If you’re worried about—“

His lips collided fiercely with mine, weaving fervently as he molded my slight form onto his chest with a tight embrace; it made me want to believe that he wouldn’t ever let go. My heart hurtled into a sprint, ramming against my chest, as though ready to leap out if I tried to breathe.

However surprised I was, I didn’t struggle and let myself get lost in his sweet little illusion of a paradise. With his lips still forcible, he pulled away a little to remove his glasses and threw it on the sofa. Soon I was kissing him back, sculpting my lips with every move of his, my hands darting to his neck to stroke his dark hair.

His sweetness intoxicated me as the odd euphoric feeling surged inside me. Then his kiss became so gentle it was bliss; easy as breathing — speaking of which, explains the searing heaviness in my lungs.

He finally pulled away, his forehead still rested on my hair while his hands cupped my face.

“Breathe,” he mumbled panting.

“Good idea,” I replied in between the gasps, as I attempted to clear the lightheadedness from my system.

“I’m sorry. I love you. I do,” he whispered with an intense yearning.

“You’re making this hard for me…” I croaked with a raspy whisper. “Just shove it on my face, will you? I’m a nerd who’s supposed to be stuck in this small town for the rest of my life and you can’t live with that. I’m no good for you,” the tears that I’ve been holding back fell uncontrollably now.

His jaws tightened as the gap between his brows furrowed, but his eyes stayed mellow, even wretched when I looked closely.

“You know there’s no truth in that. Sarah, we were supposed to move every quarter of the year. That has always been the plan and I was so used to it. But then, I found you and everything changed.” His mellifluous voice rang of ambiguity. I could see the torment in his eyes before he stared at the ceiling, sighing deeply before facing me again with a new resolve. “I’d stay… as long as I could. I’d be here as long as you want me to.”

I buried my face on his chest to muffle the whimpers that had formed in my throat. “I want to… forever. But I couldn’t ask that from you. You don’t belong here…”

He caught my face in his hands and gazed at me with his turquoise orbs that dazzled me from day one until now.

“I belong with you,” his voice was not more than a whisper but it reverberated inside my head like a broken record. And I wouldn’t mind listening to it for as long as I could.

“No…” I touched his subtle face and saw misery in it I couldn’t bear to look at him. “I don’t want to take away everything from you. I want you to be happy.” A bitter smile trailed on my lips.

“I’m happy now. Happy wouldn’t even describe how I feel and this is the first time I ever felt contented. It’s the first time I felt something deep for someone. This is the first time I came to realize that I could actually care for someone besides me. Maybe I’m being selfish now because I have every intent to keep you all to myself. As long as you’re happy, I’ll be here,” he raved feverishly that all I could do was compulsively stare at him, as though not doing so would give me the withdrawal seizures.

With a reluctant nod, I looked at his eyes. They were honest as could be. I’d still let him go if I ever I thought that it would be for the best but I was afraid that my judgment might be biased in the future.

I smiled back at him.

“I’m happy too.”

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Hmm... so the 2nd for the week eh? Did you like it? Then leave a message after the beep---kidding! but serioulsy... hit that button and let me know what you think, Yes? Thank you!!! *tears of joy*