Combustion

red giant: one

When the bell rang, I was sprinkled with a shower of hole punched confetti. You told me the celebratory ornaments were made from all of those broken promises from teachers who swore that they always hole punch papers they gave us. The confetti was spawned from a hole punch of lies.

"We're sophomores. It's summer. I can do whatever the hell I want to do and that includes throwing confetti in your face. " You held up your fist and unfurled your fingers, revealing another store of paper disks. I closed my eyes as you drew in your breath. I could feel the circles snow into my face, and after a few minutes, I dared to crack an eye open to see if the flurry had stopped. Your eyes were darting with excitement and sparkling something incredible. I could practically feel the electrical impulses radiating from you. There was already fire under your feet.

I shook my head, the final traces of hole punches dancing with finality into the ground. "Any plans?" I asked you.

"Never plans. A lot of ideas. I don't care if things don't get completed, but I do care about doing things, you know?"

You were not one to let failures hold you back. At this point, you forgot mistakes as soon as you made them. Or if you did remember them, they were still somehow beautiful and adventurous and forgivable. Lightning does not apologize for scarring the earth. Fire does not apologize for burning. You did not apologize for having a one-track mind and being just as reckless and wonderful as any source of nature. 

"Isn't it nice to look back on what you've accomplished?"

You tilted your head and looked me in the eye. "It's no fun when I have to do something. I don't follow any orders unless they're given to me by the universe."

I sort of wish that I had so much abandon for the future. You played by your own rules. There was no stigma of embarrassment or dedication to anything except pure passion. You did not seem satisfied by something you had not crafted yourself, and I liked that you didn't stop to listen to the orderliness that people wanted you to be. You were consumed by this rabid innocence of invincibility, and I believed you had the power to change the world. You were so raw and wonderful that I thought you could pull away from the winds of the world.

You were bouncing on your toes, and I loved what summer did to you. Summer was gasoline and it clashed violently with your fireball personality. Your already vibrant edges would glow uncontrollably brighter, and summer was the season of your highest power."I am so excited," you said, right before exploding out of the classroom. I don't think you even knew what you were excited for, but there was something furiously bubbling in your veins that wanted to to taste the warming June air. 

I looked at Aaron out of the corner of my eye. He was shaking his head. He turned to me, "Em is something else."

I agreed wholeheartedly and tried not to drool over your sudden disappearance. I was still slowly, slowly gathering the last of my belongings. I looked wistfully around the classroom that would no longer be mine. I felt nostalgic in a way that would have felt new to you. In that moment, it seemed to me, that everything was fleeting. Living is no more than losing again and again. To move on would be to leave something behind. The pages of my life are not being ripped, but torn at the spine. There was no way to go back or keep rereading. It is only a matter of stopping or burning. I wondered if we are only what we have left behind.

But if that was the case, then you were not substantial at all.

"What about you?" I asked Aaron. "Any plans?"

"Yeah, actually," he replied. "I'm going on this major road trip with the family. Everything's all set. We leave next week and come back in four. That is, assuming we don't kill each other over frustration or music choice during the many hours in the car."

I'm sure that his family had carefully mapped a route and jotted down an itinerary to match each hour. They probably had composed a packing list, and their suitcases were already being filled up. 

You would have been disgusted by it. You were the road trip girl who would sing along to music with the windows down. The wind would whisk the sound away, but the flame would be kept alive. Your intention would not be end up anywhere, but to get lost and explore some uncharted territory. Or if you did find yourself at a major tourist location, you would veer off the main roads and find a hideaway to claim as your own. I imagine that it would be tough to be an explorer in the twenty-first century, but you managed to live that way every day of your life.

"You?" Aaron asked me.

I shrugged. "No idea. I'm probably just going to lie around and do nothing. I might end up going back..." I paused it, suddenly unsure what to call it. I didn't consider it home any more. "Back to Florida," I finished.

"Sounds fun," he said.

And it would be, but it was fun here, too. 

"Once I get back from vacation, I'm going to need a break from my family," Aaron said as I managed to pack the last of my belongings away. We made our way to the door. You had long since shot out of it, and I knew that you wouldn't be bothered to hover around it and wait for our exit. "We should all hang out when I get back."

I liked being included in this "all" because it was bigger than it was back in Florida. Of course, you made it feel so much larger, because you were personality enough for a hundred. But it was a nice pack, and I couldn't believe that I had balanced it out even more."That would be great. Otherwise my summer is going to be super uneventful." 

I was sort of looking forward to laziness and sleeping in, but I wondered how long this enjoyment would last before boredom reared its head.

Aaron shook his head. "Trust me, you won't be bored. You're going to be one of the few people available for Em to dig her claws into. You're in for a wild ride."

And with that sentence, we stepped foot outside. You were there, with the sunshine turning your irises into gemstones. There was paper confetti in your hair. Your smile was as wide as summer feels. "All right, slow pokes. Be prepared to do the remarkable." 

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time flies like an arrow. fruit flies like a banana.