Green Apples

Chapter 3

Everything went back to the way it was. The way it should be.

He was once again lost in the music blaring in his headphones. He was no longer aware of the world around him but instead was so secluded in his own little shell. Everything around him seemed dull. Even the smooth, crooning voice of Sinatra seemed to have lost its color.

He was stupid to think it would be different - that there was a chance it could have been different.

Why did he let himself believe that? Did he really think that he would have the guts to walk up to her, let alone speak to her? Did he really think that a girl like her would give him the time of day or even acknowledge him? Really? Someone like her? What as he thinking? What was wrong with him? Inside his mind, he heard a voice cackling and ridiculing him: Pathetic. Just pathetic.

He realized that things were never going to change. He was always going to be this way, and from the way she laughed and smiled everytime she was with that boy, he figured it was best that she was with him. He still reminded himself that she was not aware of his existence at all, and was thus harshly reminded once more that the thought of ever ending up with her was ridiculous. That was what made it more painful: the fact that he was here suffering and she was laughing, having no idea of what he felt - having no idea he even existed.

He decided to move on and get on with his miserable life, but it was never going to happen if he continued sitting behind the girl. So he left. He left the lunch table he had been sitting in for so many years, a table he weirdly found solace in, because he knew the smell of green apples, a smell he once looked forward to, would now cause nothing but pain for him. It all sounds ridiculous and it may seem that moving from one table to another in the cafeteria seems so trivial. But it wasn't for him. To him, it felt like he was leaving a home, somewhere where he felt safe and secure. To him, it felt like a drastic change, and he hated change. He then realized that maybe things weren't actually back the way they were before. Maybe things actually got worse, because now he's forced to get away from a familiar place just so he could somehow get away from the pain he was feeling. Somehow. He hoped.

And so each lunch break, he would pass by his old table and the girl. She was still as radiant as ever. Her flowing golden hair, her olive green eyes, her warm smile, but he knew she was so radiant because of the boy that sat beside her with his arm around her, holding her close, whispering things into her ear that made her laugh or snuggle closer to his chest.

He was an idiot to ever think he would be that guy.

Days went by and every lunch he passed by the table, doing his best to keep his eyes away from the green apple-scented girl and the boy beside her. And he was actually doing well. As time went by, it seemed as if he had become numb to seeing them and he figured that by now, he didn't care anymore. Even the smell of green apples everytime he walked by did nothing to him anymore. He was immune. Or so he thought.

He was walking down the usual aisle between the lunch tables and knew he was going to pass by her table. As per usual, he kept his vision set dead ahead to avoid seeing her, but it seemed as if his eyes had a mind of its own. In the corner of his eye, he saw her sitting there, alone, and if he wasn't mistaken, her usual smile was absent. It was probably because the boy wasn't with her. Of course she would be sad.

But the next day she was all alone again and her face was still downtrodden with the boy nowhere to be found. She had even abandoned reading her book which just lay on the table unopened. Even if he had just walked by and caught a glimpse of her, he saw in her eyes that she wasn't just sad, but he saw in her eyes what he saw in his everytime he looked in the mirror: the look that life was getting dull, that life was getting hopeless. And he wondered why. What had happened? Where was the boy? He didn't understand, but what irked him the most was that it tugged at his heart. It actually pained him to see her in that state, and surprisingly, to see her hurt pained him more than when he saw her with another boy.

He knew all too well that this was getting ridiculous and that he was probably borderline insane. He didn't want to get hurt again, but then what's the point when it hurt him more seeing her like this? He was afraid for her. He was afraid because she was starting to become like him, and he didn't want that. She had the warm smile, that infectious laugh, that colorful character and personality that brightened up the whole room. This wasn't her. This wasn't her at all.

Days passed with her remaining in this state and him not knowing what to do. However, one day, as he passed by her table, he saw her once more. Not only was she alone and sitting there almost lifelessly, but she was crying, quietly sobbing as tears streamed down her cheeks.

It broke him.

All thought of himself and what he would feel suddenly went out the window. He couldn't bear to see her like this. He had to do something. He had to. But what? What could he possibly say to make her feel better? And who's to say she'd actually feel better? She didn't even know him.

She suddenly stood up, quickly wiped her tears, and ran out of the lunch hall, brushing past him and leaving the lingering scent of green apples. He looked at the table she left and saw that she had forgotten her book. He grabbed it and ran after her, pushing past the lunch hall doors, frantically looking down the hallways to see where she had gone. He heard the sound of running footsteps and doors opening to the outside. He quickly followed.

He saw her running across the school grounds. He ran after her. She ran out onto the street without as much as looking where she was going. She was too busy wiping the tears from her eyes. There were cars coming, but she kept going.

And one car was coming right onto her.

It seemed involuntary for him when he started screaming, yelling at her to get out of the way. He ran as fast he could, her book wrapped in his arms, doing his best to get to her before anything happened. Somehow, she stood there frozen, not knowing what was happening as the car neared her inch by inch. The boy pressed his feet against the ground as hard as he could.

The car came to a screeching halt, inches away from the girl.

The girl didn't know how to react, nor did the boy who now stood only a few feet away from her. The driver of the car now got out and began screaming at the girl, asking her what was wrong with her and yelling obscenities. Some students from the school began gathering to see what was going on. But the girl just stood there in shock.

And she stood there looking at him.

And his gaze was fixed on her.

Whatever was exchanged in those few brief moments, the boy didn't know. If anything was exchanged at all, he wasn't sure. What he was sure about was that for he first time, she knew he existed. But he was unsure whether that could be a good thing or not.

A scream came from one of the students gathered. The sound of a horn blaring. A bunch of cars had stopped and caused a small amount of traffic, but a pickup truck came piling behind all of it and crashed head on without speeding down. Broken brakes? Drunk driver? Who knows. All that mattered was that it hit the cars with such force that in a matter of seconds it crushed metal against metal and pushed the cars in front of it with great force.

It all happened so fast. The boy only did the first thing that came into his mind. He ran and pushed the girl out of the way.

She safely got out of the traffic pile up.

He didn't.

To be continued...