Toxic

It Just Got Complicated

Arriving at his house wasn't the problem. Going in would be. I don't know who I would have to face. I didn't know him at all! I didn't know if his parents were divorced, if one were deceased if both were deceased. I didn't know if he had any siblings or if he were living with a foster family or an uncle. I just knew that I was about to find out. We were currently on the bus. He was telling me how bad he was a Geometry. "I don't even know how I passed the regents. I probably used common sense for all those questions and ignored the 'not drawn to scale' thing. My teacher hated me for it, thinking I was 'bad ink' to her so called 'perfect career.'" Bad ink? 

"So let me get this straight. Even a hardcore teacher can't teach you something as simple as reflections." He shook his head. "What did you get on the regents?" I ask, an amazed look on my face. If he passed, he needed to know way more than just reflections. Besides, wouldn't he have failed the class and went back to Geometry? What was he doing in Trig? "A 65. I barely passed." Is common sense really that useful? If all it takes is common sense to get more than half the points and the knowledge combined then everyone would pass with a perfect score. Hmmm.

He snaps me out of my daze. "We're here." Panic started to rise up again as if urging me to throw up. "Come on. My family doesn't bite." His eyes are still twinkled. They aren't dark when they mention his family. I'm going to take that as a good sign. I walk alongside him up to something I wasn't expecting. You probably think I'm going to say mansion. You think I'm going to say the normal picket fence, which is indeed impossible in the heart of Manhattan. No. This was far worse. We were standing in front of an apartment building. 

To be more specific, my apartment building. Why have I never seen him before? Oh right, he's new. He hasn't heard the screams, has he? If he did, he would try poking around. He leads me to the old doors pulling it open. The familiar fumes of smoke thicken the more time I spend here. He leads me to the stairs. "It's going to be a bit of a climb. I live on the third floor." You would expect someone like Ethan to live in a more suburban neighborhood. He just seemed like he was living inside a bubble. So naive, and playful when there really was nothing to smile about. 

He leads me up the stairs. Did he say third floor? Why does the world hate me so much? The stairs reminded me of a storage unit. Steep and coated with dirt and grime. No doubt, the owner of the building didn't really care about the living conditions here. "So what are you doing in this part of town?" I ask. I realize how that sounds but I couldn't care less. Curiosity got the best of me. 

"This part of town?" he stops midstep and looks back at me. I stare back at him, his brown eyes still filled with mischief. Does he ever get upset about anything? "I didn't always live in New York." he says, resuming the climb. "I used to live in Pennsylvania. But my mom thought it would be better to have us move around to 'experience different cultures.' So we came here, not noting the fact that New York City is extremely expensive. This was the only place we could afford. Dad says we'll only be here for a little while until he gets back on his feet. Then we could move somewhere in Queens, like Maspeth." he explains. 

He pulls the door open to the third floor hallway and begins to walk forward. With each step, I grow more and more anxious and antsy. We were getting closer and closer to my apartment. He stops in front of a door with a plaque marked '316.' "Don't worry. It's not as bad as it seems." he says pulling out a shiny silver key. I don't dare let out a sigh of relief. I lived farther down the hall. '327.'

"So back to this. Trigonometry. Probably the worst subject to do a project on." he says, pushing the door open. The place has roughly the same layout as mine. The kitchen was attached to the small living room. In between it was a hallway which lead to three rooms. Two bedrooms and a bathroom, I'm assuming. "Right." I make my way towards the small brown couch. There was a TV (lucky) in front of a nice cherrywood coffee table. The elegance of the table greatly contrasted with the simplicity of his home, giving it a more defining tone. 

"You're into interior designing?" he asks, staring at me curiously. Was I thinking out loud? "Yes, yes you were." he responds. I sit on the couch and start pulling out my binder and textbook, purposely ignoring his previous question. He didn't have to know anything about me. We just had to get the project done and I would leave. "The prompt pretty much says to make a poster showing how we found the tangent function which basically means the ratio of the opposite leg to the adjacent leg."  He stares at me confused. "Whaaaaaaaat?" I smile at the completely confused face that he's making. 

"Let's start from the beginning." And with that, I take out my notes and put the task away starting to show him the basic forms of geometry. I had him drawing diagrams of triangles, showing him how to use the compass, explaining bisectors and orthocenters. It's surprising to see how much we got done in the matter of 60 minutes. "Something tells me, you already know this or that teacher with the 'perfect career,'" I mimic his actions early on the bus. 

"wasn't the best of teachers." He nods his head. "No she wasn't. She just had a tight lipped smile, uptight expression, super red lips and smelled like death." I tried to imagine the frown lines etched into her face and and a bun pulled back not allowing a single strand of hair to be loose. "Anyways, back to this." I say, snapping back to the task. But Ethan is persistent and not very subtle in his attempt to change the subject. 

"You know there's a crazy lady down the hall?" I laugh. "Oh really?" He nods. "Yeah. There's a lot of glass breaking and she's always screaming and begging and clawing at the door and then she falls silent. The neighbors say she lives alone because she's the only one who's ever been seen to leave the apartment. Others think there's some sort of ghost with her. All in all they think she's crazy. And people keep giving me the same warning. 'Beware the house of 327.'" With each passing second as Ethan tells the tale, my smile falters until it's replaced with a scowl. I've heard of all the rumors too. Because I was the crazy one. Don't get me wrong I don't care what people say about me. My emotions have been destroyed along with my faith, the day my mother died. 

But Ethan knows. And that brings him one step closer to figuring out all about it. Is he supposed to be the perfect tester for my experiment? I only had 28 days left. My 'loving mother' was practically drawing me towards it, begging me to push the date closer. But I needed this experiment. So much could change in a matter of days and I would still be the same unless someone was willing for it. Could this really mean something? "Maya, are you okay? You seem kinda lost there." I shake my head. "You know what, I think that's enough for today. We can work on it more on Monday." I give him a curt nod and slide my arms through my jacket. I was quick to put away my things and sling the bag over my shoulder. 

"At least, let me walk you out." he says, offering a hand. I stare back at it and walk past him, opening the door with ease. "You know, I have a lot of trouble opening that door. My key's bent. The knob doesn't twist the right way and I keep feeling like it's going to fall off." he calls after me. I turn my head to see his expression, my back still facing him. His eyes are clouded with an unknown emotion. But they aren't happy or mischievous. Looks like he really does have another side of him. I don't know why I questioned it before. I have my own secrets too. Maybe it's because I see myself as a lower species. "It's really nothing." I slam the door shut, taking a huge intake of air and head down the stairs. There was no way I was going to go back to the apartment knowing Ethan lives there now. Maybe the owner of the bar will let me work the night shift. All I know is, I have to leave. I can't stay here anymore in fear that someone with dark 'puppy' eyes would see through the mask. 

This is probably the longest it has ever taken for me to update and I'm so sorry. I'm not even going to blame this on writer's block because I say that almost all the time. I knew how I wanted to lay this out, I knew how the words would click together but it didn't flow out like I wanted it to. So this is pretty much what I came up with, sorry if it sucked. Also, I've been having a lot of tests lately. Study, study, study! And that's pretty much it. Leave a comment and tell me what you think. What's going to happen next? What's going on between Maya and Ethan? Will Maya ever let down her walls? All you can do is wait until the next chapter. In the meantime, virtual smiley faces for everyone!! :) :) :) :) :)