The City of Dreams -- Part 6

[Woke up at two this morning.  Finally, around four-thirty, I decided it was time to get some writing done.  An hour's worth of writing later, and this is what you get.  Poor Perry.  Depression is no fun.]


I was awake just long enough to stare at the clock, find out it was two in the morning, and crash back into my pillow.  Five minutes later, by the clock, I stumbled out of the bed to the bathroom, stubbed my toe on a box someone had left in the hallway, and still managed to fall asleep again.  I don't think I particularly wanted to be awake, but the only dreams I had were not the slightest bit real and involved collecting monsters to fight against evil teenage girls that wanted to date me.  I'm pretty sure I was fighting them because they were evil and not because they wanted to date me, but it wasn't really clear in my dream.
My alarm kicked me out of bed far too soon.  I didn't want to shower, but I did.  I didn't want to eat breakfast, but I did.  I didn't want to get a ride to school with my just-older sister, Tamara, but I did.
"You look like crap," said Mike in calculus.
"I bet you say that to all the girls," I said.
"No, seriously.  Did you not sleep last night?"
"I slept."
"How much?"
"Lots."
"So what's with the face like you've come from a funeral?"
"Just don't feel like being here today."
"You and everyone else in the building," said Mike, laughing.
"Yeah, but I really, really don't feel like being here."
"Something bad happening?" he asked.
"Probably," I said.  English was next period.  It would be fine.  Brie was nice.  I was funny.  Everything would be fine.  I wanted to go back to bed.
"You need some Tylenol or something?" asked Mike.  "I've got some in my backpack.  Sook always gets headaches, so I just started carrying a big bottle with me."
"Shouldn't take those too often," I said, putting my forehead down on my desk.  "It'll kill your liver."
"Head now, liver later.  How do you pick?  Do you need to go home, Perry?  You don't look good at all."
"Yes, I need to go home.  No, I'm not going to."
"You're not making any sense," said Mike, "and I need to concentrate to finish this assignment.  Some of us have to focus on calculus."
"You can copy mine later," I said.
"Now I really know you're not feeling well.  You never let me copy."
"Mike, if you find me a pillow right now, you can copy my homework for the rest of the year."
"And then what would I do on the AP test?" he asked.
"You can copy that, too."
"Go to sleep, Perry."
I didn't, though it would have been nice.  Why was I so nervous?  True, I was never much of a flirter, but I'd never had problems talking with girls.  Touching them wasn't exactly in my comfort zone, but I could talk with anyone.  I just didn't always want to.
And that should make meeting with Brie easier, right?  Because I did want to talk with her, and that should make meeting her in English really easy.  Then we could go to lunch together and hang out and get to know each other when we were awake.  Easy as can be.
Except that I felt horrible.  Numb, like the dentist had pumped in Novocain all over my body.  I flopped my arms around under my desk, like I was struggling my way out of the dentist's chair.  It probably made me look like an idiot, but it made me feel just a bit better.  A bit.
"I don't get it," I said.
"Don't get what?" asked Mike, not bothering to turn around.
"Why do I feel the way I do?"
"Maybe you're getting the flu.  Don't breathe on me."
"I'm sure that's it," I said.  "Come closer and I’ll cough."
"No way," said Mike.  "If I'm getting the flu, I'm getting it from Sook.  That way I'll at least have a little fun doing it."
"You two make me sick," I said.
"Don't worry," said Mike.  "I'm not kissing you."
"That was exactly what I was worried about."
"I thought so.  Now shut up.  I need to concentrate."
"This class is unoriginal," I said.  "Everything is so derivative."
"Was that supposed to be funny?" asked Mike.
"I guess not," I said, and clammed up for the rest of the period.
The walk to English was too short.  Mike was saying something on the way about a new manga series he was reading that involved evil teenage girls and collectible monsters--a little bit too much of a coincidence for my comfort--but I wasn't paying much attention.  I was watching the hallway, looking for Brie, hoping at least one of us could end up sick and out of school for the day.  Maybe she wasn't even real.  Maybe I actually had made her up, and I'd look over my shoulder and she wouldn't be there.  It would be some girl named Crystal who dyes purple streaks into her hair and likes bands that use the letter 'z' everywhere they should use an 's.'
"You are walking really slowly," said Mike.  "You want me to buy you a Coke?  You need some caffeine or something."
"Caffeine gives me headaches."
"Then you can have some of my Tylenol."
"Won't that kill me?"
"No, that's Coke and aspirin, and even that's made up.  I checked it on the internet."
"Right.  And of course the internet will be right about that."
"The internet is right about everything," said Mike.  "And if you don't walk faster we'll be late."
"Let's skip English," I said.
"Dude, if you're sick, just go home."
I'm definitely sick, I thought, I just don't know how.  "I'm not sick," I said.
"Then walk faster."
"You go ahead, Mike.  Leave me.  I'll fend for myself, foraging for bags of chips and leftover food from the remains of other kids’ school lunches."
"Survivor, High School Edition?"
"Something like that."
"Oh, look.  There's our classroom.  Walk faster, Perry."
It happened so quickly, there wasn't much I could do about it.  The bell rang, we ran the last few yards to the door, through it, and into our seats.  I didn't have time to look around before the teacher started talking about our our assigned reading--or at least that's what I told myself.  No time to look around, although I could have looked around while she was talking.  I could have.  Maybe I would.  Just over my shoulder, and then I'd know, though part of me knew already.  She was there.  The City may have been a dream, but it was real, too.
I did it.  I looked over my shoulder, and there she was.  Her hair was brown and curly, and here eyes looked blue from a distance, though I couldn't be sure.  She was looking at me, but not smiling.  I could understand that.  I'd ignored her for the first ten minutes of class.  If I were her I would have been pissed.  Was she angry?  I couldn't tell, but she didn't wave at me.  She just blinked and I looked back at the teacher.  I should have stayed home.
After a while we broke into groups to discuss the book.  I think I said something, and I'm sure it was witty and insightful and intelligent, but I couldn't remember what it was.  I kept looking over to where Brie was, but her back was to me, and she only looked over once.  I was screwing it up.  I hadn't even met her in real life and I'd already killed my chances.  I thought about leaving.  I could ask to go to the bathroom and then go home and climb into bed.  Or watch TV on the couch.  Mom was across town visiting her parents until late, helping Grandma with a quilting project, so no one would make me do anything until at least dinner, and if I pretended to be asleep then Dad might let me be until bed time.  It sounded like a very decent plan.
Instead I just sat there.
"Listen up," said Mrs. Palmer.  Eventually everyone quieted down and looked at her.  "Since no one is talking about the book anymore, and I've already talked it to death, we're done for the day.  Besides, I need to finish preparing your test."  That got the groan it deserved.  "I knew you'd be excited," she continued.  "Don't leave the classroom, or at least don't be loud if you do, and enjoy your early lunch.  Now I'm going to ignore you."
"Dang it," said Mike.  "Sook's teacher never gives her an early lunch.  Now I have to hang out with you until she gets out of class."
"Should I apologize?" I asked.
"Today?  Yes.  You're much less fun than usual.  What's the matter?  You keep looking over there.  Is there a cute girl?"
"No," I said.  "I mean, that's not why I'm looking over.  I mean, it is, but it's not because she's cute."
"Dude," said Mike.  "You're flustered."
"Sort of."  Brie was looking at me again.  "I need to go talk with someone," I said.
"Sure," said Mike.
I picked up my backpack and walked over, weaving my way through the desks.
"Hey," I said.
"Hey, yourself," said Brie.  She was cute, in a not-much-makeup kind of way.  "What's with ignoring me?"
I shrugged.  "Sorry," I said.  "Nervous."
"Nervous about what?" she asked.
"I don't know," I said.  This wasn't going well.  I could feel it in my bones.  At least I could have, if my bones were somehow sensitive to awkward social situations.
"You don't have to talk to me," said Brie.  "It's not like we signed a contract or something.  And I didn't do the wave."
"You don't have to do the wave," I said.  "And I want to talk with you."
"Sure doesn't look like it," she said.
She was looking at me, straight on, and her eyes were blue, actually.  Blue and angry.  I deserved it, I knew.  I was being a jerk, though I didn't mean to be.  I was trying.  I just didn't know how to tell her that.
"Things are different for me when I'm awake," I said.
"Forget it," said Brie, standing up and grabbing her books.  "I thought we had fun, and I thought we'd have fun at school, too, but clearly you're not thinking the same way I am, so we don't have to do this.  Go hang out with your friends."
"That's not what I meant," I said.
"What did you mean?"
"I don't know," I said.  "I don't feel good."
"So go home," she said.  "I'm going to lunch."
And she walked away.  I wanted to follow her, but I didn't.  Instead I sat down in an empty desk.  I sat and stared after her, then stared at the wall.  It wasn't my best day.


"Mike said you were talking with Brie," said Sook.  We were in the choir room, as usual.
"Yeah," I said.
"She's nice," said Sook.
"Yeah."
"And pretty."
"Sure," I said.
"What did you talk about?"
I shook my head.  "Doesn't matter."
I kept eating my lunch but I noticed the look that went between Mike and Sook.  It was the same kind of look that I'd seen between my parents on one of my blackest days.  This was a very black day.
"I didn't even know you two knew each other," said Sook, pushing ahead anyway.
"We just met.  Yesterday."
"Where?"
"It's...hard to explain.  And it doesn't matter.  I don't think she wants to talk to me anymore."
"Why not?"
"I was kind of a jerk in English."
"Seriously?"  Sook looked surprised.  "I didn't know you knew how to be a jerk.  I bet you get the 'Nice Guy Award' in the yearbook voting."
"Not this year," I said.  "I don't talk to enough people."
"But still," said Sook.  "You're not mean to anybody."
"I didn't mean to be a jerk.  It just came out all wrong."  Everything comes out all wrong, I thought.
"So what are you going to do about it?"
"What do you mean?"
"Are you going to apologize?"
"Why?"
"Because she's nice.  And pretty.  And it's the right thing to do."
What's the point? I thought.  "Sure," I said, "when I see her again."
"When are you going to do that?"
"Tomorrow.  English."
"I know where she eats lunch," said Sook.
"Why do you know that?"
"The drama room."
"She's in drama?"
"You didn't know that?" asked Mike.  "She was in the musical.  Wicked Witch of the West."
"That was Brie?"  I was genuinely surprised.  "She was great."
"Her voice is normally pretty mellow," said Sook, "but she turned it up a notch for the show.  I was impressed."
I was, too.  Brie had a mean cackle.
"So are you going?" asked Sook.
"Going where?" I asked.
Mike hit my shoulder.
"Ow."
"You deserved it," he said.
"I'll apologize," I said.  "I'm just--I mean, I don't think--just not today.  It'll all come out wrong again.  I don't want to make things worse."
"From the way she walked away," said Mike, "I'm not sure you can."
Sook looked at me.  Mike looked at me.  I took a look at myself.  I wasn't happy with what I was seeing.
"Fine," I said, stuffing what was left of my lunch back into its bag.  "Drama room."
"You know the way?" asked Sook.  "I'd be happy to walk you there."
"I'll be fine," I said.  There's no way I'll be fine, I thought.