(I was getting a story out of this for sometime, and then i kinda lost interest)
(SHALANIA)
Young Allie: [lying in the middle of the street] what happens if a car comes?
Young Noah: We die.
He was sitting in a corner, oblivious of everyone around him. Somehow, I was drawn to him. Perhaps it was a physical attraction, but I know it was a lot more than that. He looked so vulnerable, so fragile. I was afraid to touch him, so I squatted down in front of him.
My name’s Shalania Naidu. I’m half Chinese, and half Indian. People say it’s called “Chindian”. And I’ll be 18 this year. Contrary to popular belief, I am a girl. Not a guy. Life has its ups and downs. Mine just has more downs, than ups. Sometimes, I feel life squeezes every ounce of what it gives to me, from me, and other times, I just wish I were a bird and could fly, fly from all this hurt and pain. But as they say “If you’re going through hell, keep going.” And that’s what I’m doing. I’m not sure if that piece of advice actually works, but I’m trying it out. Hopefully it does. In the long run, I guess.
“Hey! My name’s Shalania. What’s yours?”
I was treated by silence. Never in my whole life, had anyone ever not spoken to me, or ignored me as completely as he did. I mean come on. Is it so hard to answer me? Hasn’t anyone told him that not speaking to someone who talks to you, is just completely and utterly rude? Or is he deaf? I mean, if he is deaf, then I can totally understand the lack of reply, but the fact that his eyes darted towards me and back makes me feel that he isn’t deaf and that he actually heard me. So could someone please tell me why he isn’t replying me? it’s not as if I’m some mean bitch out to rip his heart out and have it for supper with a glass of Long Island Tea.
“Erm, hello? Mind telling me your name, at the very least? I don’t bite, you know. I’ve never seen you in my school before. Where do you live? How do you know Aaron? By the way, I have Athazagoraphobia; it’s the fear of being forgotten, in case you didn’t know. So I have to talk. I talk all the time. And I talk too much. Like now. You probably think I’m really annoying but at least answer me. I’m so sick of my usual crowd and you looked like you could use some company. I’m Aaron’s classmate. Cool party, eh? Trust Aaron to be able to throw such a fabulous party. I’m doing my O’Levels this year, for the second time, and my parents are giving me a pretty hard time because of that. I come from a mixed heritage. You? Why won’t you answer me?”
“Bradley, eighteen, and I do not go to school here. Not in this country, at least. But if you must know, I don’t live in Singapore, and I’m here on vacation, for about two months. That enough information for you, little miss popular and must know-it-all?” His voice was barely audible over the loud music and screaming giggling girls.
I’m not surprised he said that. I’m not denying it, I’m a pretty sociable person. A social butterfly. Whatever it is they call it. But it doesn’t give him the right to label me, right? Fine, I’m friendly, it doesn’t mean I’m happy. It could be the fact that I’m just blocking out all the drama in my life. Oh wait, could isn’t right, because it is real. The drama in my life, I mean. And how was I supposed to know that he doesn’t live in Singapore. Fine he looks white, but his eyes are Asian, so I’m guessing he’s a Eurasian, but how dare he treat me like that! I was just trying to be nice. What does he think I am? 5? So much for trying. Way to go Shalania. Haven’t you learnt enough that not everyone wants to talk to you and not everyone actually likes you at all?
That’s a real friendly guy, I thought sarcastically. Damn me for trying to be friendly to the “emo” in the corner, in which if my friends saw they’d probably ridicule me. To think I even bothered trying! I took a deep breath and started to stand up and walk away. It wasn’t worth it. I was fuming, and I had anger management problems before and had to go and see a damn shrink. So beating this guy’s gut out was probably not a very good idea at the moment, so I clenched my fists and whirled around, trying to keep my temper in check and walk away. I just started counting to ten when he started talking again.
“Sorry if I sounded too harsh. It’s just that you’re so popular and so cheerful and bubbly all the time, and everyone loves you! I’m just jealous.” He gushed in an attempt to make me stay. Stay I did, alright.
I snorted. “Me? Cheerful, bubbly and all? Hah! You have no fucking idea what family life is like for me. Oh, and for your information, how would I even know you’re not from Singapore? I’m not a fucking mind-reader you know. I mean, you wouldn’t even talk to me. I assumed you must have been from my school or something because, if you haven’t realized, everyone here is from my school. And you don’t even know me, so you might want to quit with the judging, and get on with knowing the facts.” I could see her was curious to know what kind of family could someone as sociable as me have. What kind of bad family, to put it simply.
Okay, I exaggerated. My family isn’t bad. Not in the “Gossip Girl – Bart Bass doesn’t love Chuck Bass enough” kind of way, but “bad” in a very ordinary way. No drama, well, a little drama, but definitely not as intense as those seen on the television. I never in my life really opened up to anyone. Everyone only saw my happy side. Sure I had a best friend, but we rarely had time to meet, and it’s no one’s fault. We’re pretty busy with our own lives, so even though she knew quite a lot about me, it was different. I know her for five years now, but this guy? Barely an hour. So what is this all about? Why do I have the uncanny urge to open my mouth and vomit out whatever I’m feeling? It’s not as if I’m the “tell you my whole life story during the first hour I know you” sort of person. Call it a magnetic pull, or fate. But I just had to slide down next to him and tell him all about me. Well, almost everything. I mean, I AM popular. What’s to say this guy isn’t the biggest gossip around here? Oh the irony, since it’s actually a guy I’m talking about.
So I sat down beside him, and amidst all that noise, told him a little about my family life. About my dad, and how his temper and unusually big mouth usually irritates everyone and pisses them off, and how he really needed to tone down a little now that he’s more than half a century old. I told him about my mum and how much she goes through with all of us throwing all our burdens on her even though we know she has enough to worry about, about how when we lose our tempers, she’s the first one we attack even though words really hurt her but how we can’t help it in a fit of anger, and how I’m trying to change that and be a little more understanding towards her. About angel, my seven year old sister who isn’t really what I’d call an angel or anything like that, on how a lot of things fall on my responsibility when it comes to her. About Kevin, my brother, who I’m pretty close to, but isn’t really around much, doesn’t help around much, and has a temper as nasty as my dad’s. I told him a lot of surface stuff, not really my innermost; he didn’t need to know any of that just yet. Or ever, really.
I talked, while he listened. Soon, though, the party was over and he shyly asked if I wanted to take a walk with him, then a drive in his car. I agreed. Naturally, my friends guffawed when I told them I was hitching a ride with Bradley.
Some people might think my friends are jackasses, but its fine, because I totally agree with them. It’s just that sometimes, they go too far, and cross the limits. Don’t get me wrong, I love my friends to the core. I just don’t think it’s nice of them to laugh at people who aren’t like them, or us. I think a lot of us think our friends are jackasses, but because they are our friends, we choose to look past that and try to look on the Brightside of everything. Also, we look pass their mediocre teasing of us because we know that, if put in their shoes, we would have done the same thing, right? But well, right now I was regretting being a bitch to them sometimes, because like they say, karma’s a bitch.
In between the smirks and laughter, Nathan panted, out of breath from laughing and managed to throw out these words, “What is someone like you doing with someone like him?”
Yes, that’s Nathan. Arrogant, impulsive bastard. But he’s a good friend when we need him, and I love him for that, but it doesn’t mean I don’t feel like wiping that smile off his face. Instead of doing that, I breathed deeply, as how Sasha taught me, and counted to ten. Okay, that’s a lie. I was having a really graphic image of grounding him into dust with my Ferragamo heels. I can’t believe everyone’s laughing! I’m the only damn reason why these idiots were even invited to this exclusive party in the first place, and now they’re being so darn annoying. Sigh, human nature.
“They ridiculed you, didn’t they?” Bradley asked, in a cool, dignified tone. I just flashed him a smile and said they were just being assholes. I felt embarrassed for my friends as someone like Nathan was so much more refined than them.
Now that I was actually walking alongside him, I noticed how tall he actually is. Probably around 1.9m tall? And he looked really buff, like he did some extreme sport in school or something. And now that I’m actually looking at him without nightlights and ultra violet lights and noise and smoke, he is actually cute! More than cute. This guy, was made for sin.
We walked from Boat Quay, all the way to Wheelock place where his car was parked. It was a long walk, but we barely noticed, as we enjoyed each others’ company and did not realize how far we’d walked. He seemed embarrassed.
“I’m sorry, making you walk such a distance. I deliberately parked my car further, so I wouldn’t be tempted to drink too much. Your feet must be hurting quite a bit, with heels like those.”
I told him I didn’t mind, that I didn’t realize that we walked so far, and that my feet weren’t hurting because I had such good company. I told him it was different talking to him, and I liked different. I was touched that he realized that my heels could have been hurting me, because not many people would have noticed.
“Where do you want to go? It was nice talking to you too, Shalania.”
“Before I decide, can I call you Brad? Anyway…East Coast would be too inconvenient, right? Since I stay in the west…and you stay…in the west, too, right? So let’s go - “
“Okay, Brad is perfectly fine. To the beach it is! Come on, I’m driving. How bad can it be?”
I grinned at him. This was one of the few times I felt truly happy. It was a wonderful feeling. We got into the car.
