Soul Harbour

0.22 |when planning popularity|

                  

0.22|from Sabah's tape-recorder: when planning popularity|

Recap:

"Pictures are reminders," Auburn said, looking straight ahead. "They are like anchors...they make it very difficult to leave."

"Why would you want to leave?" he asked softly, the streetlights sifting their shadowy rays through his blonde hair and casting patterns on her arms.

"Why wouldn't you?"

-

Anthony didn't press on. He was like that. He would rather steal glances and try to decipher the puzzle that Auburn was than ask her straight away but I did. Or maybe he was content with as much as Auburn let us know. I wasn't.

I tried every other day to understand what had seemed like an offhand remark because truth be told, we hardly knew anything about Auburn's life before Madrid. It was as if she had only begun to live when she had arrived here.

In contrast, Anthony's life was an ever shifting panorama of recountings and details. To know Anthony was far easier than knowing Auburn. It turned out difficult for even me to unravel her past. I had noticed the fact the first time we had met-the fact that she was an open book one shouldn't be too hasty to open. I told you, right, that the minute you thought you knew what was coming next, the minute you thought had finally grasped a dimension of her existence she would close up like a clam.

So, I had to resort to listening to her closely to know if somewhere along the smiles, the often tired violet-blue eyes and tumbling words lay pieces of her that I didn't know.

"I think the students like me now," Auburn was telling Anthony. It was a huge achievement because after weeks of trying the students had begun to warm up to her.

He grinned, "That's great. Looks like you're keeping the job. We won't have to feed you now that you won't be homeless."

Yes, we had discovered that the "shy" Anthony actually had a great sense of humour. The bad thing? He used it at our expense usually. The good thing? He was adorable even when funny.

Auburn threw a ball of tissue paper at him which bounced off his soft, blonde hair, "Haha. Well, actually, don't be too sure of it. The Principal called me to her office yesterday and told me that I don't mingle with the other teachers." She paused, looking shocked and perturbed, "Me! Apparently I'm a snob and that's why I don't mix with people. And-and snobs are not welcome at the school because they're a bad influence for children but I swear, I'm not a snob. I'm the opposite of snob. I'm a minion, an inept-at-Spanish minion."

I frowned, "Who is this puta? Someone I need to talk to?" My maternal instincts were very much hurt.

Anthony laughed, "That's sounding quite ominous."

"Thank you, Carlotta, for being understanding and being sensitive to my pain unlike other people," Auburn made an accusing face at Anthony. "Anyway, so, this chica wants me to, I quote, mingle."

"You can do that," I encouraged.

"You can definitely do that," he chimed in. "At least you can't be worse than me at public skills."

"Point," she agreed. "But you guys are getting it wrong. I don't have a problem with mingling. I want to be friends with my colleagues and, you know, be in on their discussions and gossip, learn things from them and so on. Except they don't want to, for lack of a better word, mingle with me. They hate me. They find me disinteresting and weird probably."

"Your life could be a Mean Girls spinoff," Anthony said.

"That's not helpful," Auburn rolled her eyes. "Help me think of a plan, amigos, please. I need to impress them with something. Something that'll make them want to talk to me. Once they talk to me, they'll realise I'm not a snob and we'll all live happily ever after."

"I see that you're trying to incorporate a few Spanish words in your vocabulary," I smiled. "It could help but you'll need to-what do the announcers say-up your game."

"Okay," Auburn nodded. "From now on, we talk in Spanish. I speak Spanish. I eat Spanish. I sleep Spanish."

"Ooh," I whistled. "Sleeping Spanish, huh? I wonder with whom..." Yes, I never let an opportunity go waste.

Auburn spluttered, turning red, "F-forget I said anything. Let's get to planning, okay?"

We thought of a few more basic ways of Project Popularity for Auburn which covered nearly all of the basics-distributing allegedly homemade cookies, smiling at people, making eye contact, greeting every colleague in the corridor, asking them to come over for dinner...

"Auburn," Anthony said suddenly.

"Yeah?"

"Any attention is good attention, right?"

Auburn looked at him suspiciously, "As long as it gets my colleagues interested and doesn't end up in people laughing at me or ostracizing me forever."

"I have a way," he said, sweeping his hair sideways with his long fingers, looking very proud of himself.

"What?" we asked, simultaneously.

"It'll be a surprise," he said, getting up, "I'm late as it is. I'll be off then."

"I hate surprises," Auburn said as he hugged her goodbye.

"Adios," he smiled a dazzling smile. "Adios, Carlotta, cariño," he hugged me.

I couldn't help but smile, "You really are trying to impress me with the Spanish flirting. You want the hazelnut cookies that bad, huh?"

He grinned, closing the glass doors behind him as the door-chimes tinkled to announce his departure, the silence afterwards, reminding us of his absence.

"He's a good kid," I told Auburn pointedly.

She groaned, "I'm seriously hate surprises."

[ haiiii!

zak iz back. recap earlier because its been a month and memory is fallible (yes, i paid attention to the marquez lit. background classes). gosh, spanish is tough. i need a teacher. any volunteers?

okai,

chica: girl

puta: bitch (football fans taught me spanish lol...)

adios: goodbye

carino: darling

well, whatever anthony has planned, i can vouch it'll be good, major good for #aubony. vote+comment what you think it could be and have some virtual hazelnut cookies bc its cold outside for angels to fly x]