Tinkering Hearts

Chapter Ten

Zaelia

I bandage Zeke's wrist. We have been sitting silently for a long time now, just staring at the floor. Dad had accidentally pushed Zeke to the wall and he cut his wrist from the table's edge. 

"You know, Zaelia? You're so lucky," he says.

I scoff. So ironic. "What do you mean?"

"You have so many paths open for you... I mean, you are good with brushes and you bring—what—A's?"

"Bs and Cs too," I add.

"Yeah, but you bring grades that mom and dad are satisfied with. And me? I could hardly even score a C. School and I can't do each other. That's why I do gaming. I feel less stressed about my life when it's just me and my PC. I just wanna... maybe, develop an app—a game—someday, that would be installed worldwide. But see?" he shows his wrist, "This was what happened when I brought it up. They want me to get an actual job after my education." He rolls his eyes, "Isn't the world just so... unfair?"

"Cannot disagree with that." I get up from my bed, pat his back and plop back down, facing the ceiling.

"You know, Zeke? Managing As and Bs is hard too. I don't enjoy learning math, or science. I do it thinking of my future; we are obliged to do it. Right now is the time we make our career moves, according to people. Although mom's and dad's way of doing things is unfair but, I hate to admit it, it might be for our betterment. At least we should keep going thinking that..." I sigh.

"But why do we have to even listen to them about our careers?" Zeke groans.

"Well, I am a people-pleaser, how much ever I try not to be. I guess it can't be helped. So I just let it be. I don't know about you." I roll on my stomach and look at him. "I don't enjoy art, you know? Sometimes I feel like, that's not what I truly want. It's just a mere hobby to me in the end. I can't see myself as an artist after a decade. I think I wanna... major in Literature," I say with some magical hand moments.

"Well, that's new to hear. I've heard people only go for English Lit if they've got nothing better to do."

I narrow my eyes, "I know that. And it might be true, but for me it's different. I actually wanna write and publish something of my own. I want people from all over the world to read my work—oh my God! Zeke! Why don't you try out IT?"

"Where did that come from? I've thought about it. Something of software engineering, probably..."

"That's perfect, bro!"

"But I've got bad grades. Forget it."

I give him a you-know-exactly-what-to-do kind of look.

"Haha, funny." But when he realizes I'm serious, "Fine. I'll try focusing on classes more," he gives in, almost being sarcastic. But this time I feel a tad bit of newfound determination in his words.

I turn on my back and shoot him a thumbs-up in the air. We just sit quietly then; me, mostly just dreaming of getting rich just by doing something I love in the future. I hope everything sorts out for both of us in the forthcoming days.

I clasp my hands and stretch a little. "Is that all you wanted to talk about?"

"Uh... can I get one more... tiny piece of advice? Pleaseee," he makes a failed attempt at puppy face.

"You're in a mood to talk today. Say it."

"I mean since you've read so many novels, not that you've got any experience, but tell me a less hurting way of breaking up with someone."