As I arrived, Matilda sat in the grass.
She turned around as soon as she heard me approaching.
"You did take your time to come back", she observed.
I sat down next to her.
Surrounded by comforting sounds and feelings.
"I'm not stalking you or anything if that's what you think."
Matilda's smile was weird. Kind of different from all the smiles I've seen before. It doesn't really look like she smiled with her lips or cheeks.
She smiled with her eyebrows.
It seemed like all of her facial expressions were collectively shown through the spaces above her eyes.
You could have covered the upper part of her face and never known how she really felt.
Just like last time, though, she looked like she was about to go to sleep on that field.
Right underneath the stars.
"Not here to die today, I suppose?", she asked me.
She laid back onto the meadow. Tiny blades of grass wrapped around the piece of cloth, covering her upper body, close enough to a nightgown.
"No, it's better now."
"You do seem like more."
"More?"
"Yeah. Just like you weren't anything at all before."
"What do you mean?"
"It feels like you benefit from the contents of your mind."
I laid back now, too.
And searched through the entirety of my head.
There still was this immense urge to kiss Linda. But it was hidden somewhere. Stashed away. Unreachable. Because it hurt too much to think of it.
"It's Linda, isn't it?", she guessed.
"Why..., why would you think that?"
I was a bit surprised.
I was more surprised about not being more surprised about it.
Surprise!
Surprise demise. Surprise lies. Surprise guys.
Boob.
Beeb boob.
"I've seen her a lot these last two weeks. We talked a lot."
"You really like her, do you?"
"Not as much as you do. Or as much as she likes you."
"Linda doesn't like me."
"She does."
"She rejected me."
"Did she ever really tell you that..., or is that just a stupid assumption your stupid brain made."
"She didn't respond."
"Respond to what?"
"To my feelings."
"Well were you clear about them..., or was it half-assed and disingenuous?"
"It was a voice mail."
"Well thank God it was a voice mail, I thought you sent her a text message or a letter or a fine postcard from the place where they cut off the balls you had while running towards that train."
That shut me up.
"Excuse my language", she added, "Or don't, it's up to you."
I had to keep talking.
"I want to kiss her."
"Then do it."
"I can't just do that?"
"You can't also just keep ignoring her."
"She's ignoring me right now, isn't she?"
"And doesn't she have all the right to do it?"
I bit on my lips.
I thought of her lips.
How badly I wanted them close to mine.
"Why are you like this?", Matilda wanted to know.
Her voice had become soothing all of a sudden.
Not like she was about to kill me anymore.
She is probably a crazy person, plotting to kill me.
So I could tell her.
All about me.
YOU ARE READING
What do the stars feel when they look at Us?
Teen FictionBen starts to care. About you. About people. About his girlfriend. About feelings and being a person. Growing up. But it's difficult. Seemingly, especially, for him. And he's failing. Miserably. So he's starting to look for answers in the stars. Mos...
