Hopeless

IV

"Hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come, whispering 'it will be happier'..." – Alfred Lord Tennyson

'I like your name.' She had said. 'It has a beautiful meaning.' I was startled when I heard her claim that. My name has always been an uninteresting part of myself, along with everything else of me. I didn't care for it; not the way she did.

After lighting her cigarette and taking a hit here and there, Nova got up and left with a simple yet disappointing, 'Later!'. Oh, how right Elio was. That one, lonely word sounds so dismissive, so tasteless. It really brought me down. But one could say it was partially my fault; what if we had met only a few minutes before her arrival? Is it bad that I wanted her to add another word next to that 'Later!' she so easily spit? Maybe that word could have been 'talk'; it would be much more appreciated to hear her call, 'Talk later!'. Or maybe that word could've been 'beautiful'.

'Later, beautiful!'. Yes, much better.

I saw Nova in all my classes. Either it was advanced math, social studies, even my goddamn elective; she was there. Which made everything a hundred times harder for me. Whatever magic she had put on me when I looked at her, it wouldn't allow me to pay attention to anything but her messy black hair, or her slender fingers tapping the wooden surface of her desk.

The teachers asked me questions and I didn't have any answer on the tip of my tongue. They would dismissively wave their hand and move on to another student after saying something about being more careful. What really annoyed me, though, was how dismissive Nova was. She didn't raise her eyes from her notebooks once, didn't meet my longing stare. Not even when the teachers called my name did she dare to casually glide her eyes over the other students, land on mine and linger for a second. It was safe to say, I was disappointed.

During lunch periods, I sat outside in a park-like area near the classes. Under a big tree, I was able to clear my mind and forget all about her. At the end of the day, I knew nothing of who she was. One of my ears was occupied with the earbud that rested in it, silently providing me with my favorite song, keeping my body and mind busy and at last, calm.

'Life.' Her voice came after the sound of books and a bag dropping next to me. My head shot up, the sun next to her head blinding me. Worth it, I thought. But I didn't get what she meant by what she said. It seemed as if she enjoyed talking as less as possible; confusing yet luring you in, like a riddle.

'I'm sorry?'

'Your beautiful name.' She sat in front of me, the tip of our knees barely touching. 'It means 'life' in Greek.' Nova smiled while taking out a pack of cigarettes and her black lighter.

'You know how to speak Greek?'

'My dad is Greek, so I know some words here and there.' She said through partly shut lips, the only thing that separated then being the cigarette which she lit after she was done speaking. I was so confused; I didn't know what to say next. Everything seemed a bit too much for me. Her presence after a whole day of not paying me the slightest attention, the smell of the cigarette burning and the gray smoke that heavily clouded the atmosphere, her piercing blue eyes that didn't want to quit staring at me. All that with the overwhelming feeling of repeating twelfth grade for a second time just took my breath away in a much different way than that morning.

Her eyes fell concerned on my face; I figured the discomfort fogged my face quite vividly in order for her to notice. She took a big hit of her cigarette and after the smoke had littered her lungs and escaped her lips, she asked me;

'Are you okay? You seem troubled.'

I wasn't used to it. I was not used to having someone's eyes so intensely on me and liking it. I wasn't used to socializing, as much as you can call that socializing. I was not used to conversations, to cloudy days at school, to light gray smoke flying in front of me, to caring too much about what my next answer would be. I couldn't do normal life like that. I was scared. I hadn't talked to anyone besides, what was left of, my family in years, my walls had gone so far up it was hard for me to accept anyone's simple 'good morning' let alone sit there and have a full conversation. An irrational fear took over me, and I panicked.