Exclamation Mark

See

He looked down, but his vision was obscured and hazy. It was a dark and gloomy night, so he didn't expect to see anything. She'd asked him to be there after sunset, albeit reluctantly, but she wasn't here herself.

Of course, he thought. She wasn't the type to show herself, the mystery girl. She was the type to hide her face beneath huge hats and glasses. She was the type to hide her body beneath oversized sweaters and baggy jeans. He didn't even know the color of her eyes.

He'd never actually seen her.

It bothered him.

So here he was, on the edge of the precipice of their hilly neighborhood's tallest cliff, waiting for her to finally show herself.

*******

2 weeks ago

Duke turned off the bleating stereo in his beat-up, old, Mustang and revved his car into the school parking lot, glancing pensively at the empty shotgun seat.

One year, 9 months, and 6 days ago, there used to be a bubbly, cheery, smart blonde girl with beautiful long curly hair tamed by her signature beanie, soft, big lips and bright green eyes that he got mesmerized by every single time he looked at her.

The first time Duke had set his eyes on her, he thought she would be the one. He adored her animated way of talking; with gestures wild and passionate. Her hearty laughs were music to his ears. Kissing her made him feel like he was in freefall in a dream. It was exhilarating. Blissful. Cuddling with her made him feel at home.

Her name was Violet.

He loved her.

And just the day he was about to tell her, she had torn her beautiful soul away from him.

It was on Duke's birthday.

She'd driven downtown that night to buy him a present. He'd had his eyes on those new Jordans for months, and Violet knew. She knew everything about him.

While heading back, it happened. It was over in a blinding flash; just seconds. The doctors told Duke that she didn't feel any pain. But Duke didn't believe them. He'd screamed, he'd clutched big tufts of his hair, desiring to rip it out and feel the agony Violet had felt in her last few moments.

He fell to his knees, shaking, sobbing, and refusing to believe that his Violet, his sweetheart, the love of his life, was taken away. Dead due to the carelessness of a drunk driver. That woman was in prison now, but it didn't give Duke any satisfaction.

He'd mourned for so long, because he was scared that he would wake up one day forgetting what her laugh sounded like. How her hugs gave his soul warmth and comfort on those few crappy day. How she hit him on the back of his head when he was being stupid about a math problem. How the clever pranks she pulled on him always brought a smile to his face. How she used to whisper-sing her favorite lyrics to her favorite songs in her ears. Her face. Her kisses.

He was a shell of himself for so long.

Sighing, he pushed his car's door open, grabbed his bag, and headed towards the building where Duke would spend his last year in school.

It was the first day of his senior year.

He dreaded the fact that he would have to spend another year in Hillside High, the hallways, classrooms, and fields of which were overflowing with memories of Violet. He couldn't turn a corner without thinking about her. Missing her.

"Hey man, how've you been?" greeted one of his oldest friends Adrian, a dude much taller than Duke's 5' 9", with dark shaggy hair, gray eyes, and the most optimistic and positive personality you could find in a human being.

Maybe he was an overly-enthusiastic alien, because nobody else put up with Duke's shit. Before the accident, Duke had been popular, and the basketball team captain, winning several titles. He was the wildest partier in Hillside history and the boyfriend of the hottest and smartest girl in town.

He was the guy everyone wanted to be friends with and the guy all the girls were secretly in love with. He was the star everyone wanted to be.

But everything changed after Violet. Initially, he had his friends' support, but when it was quite clear that he was nowhere near moving on, even after a year, his friends trickled away. He lost his popularity, captaincy, ambitions, everything.

Adrian was the only one who stuck by him. Duke always wanted to express how grateful he was, but could never find words that meant enough. Funny thing about words. They always seemed so inadequate to express something as complex as a human emotion.

"Great dude, you?" Duke replied, admittedly halfhearted.

Adrian of course, missed nothing, but he chose not to question him.

"Cool! Did you get your schedule? I wanna see what classes we have together."

"Yeah, it should be somewhere here..." Duke dug through his bag and found a familiar green paper. He handed it to Adrian after a fleeting look to find out his first period. It was English Lit. Not really his favorite subject, but, well, nothing captivated him these days.

"Looks like only P.E. and Chem. Oh well, at least we have two hours to annoy the teachers together," he clapped Duke's back. The bell rang, signaling 5 minutes before the first class began.

Duke gave him a weak smile, waved, and headed off towards English, while Adrian, strolled in the opposite direction, flirting with some juniors on the way.

The class was full of raucous laughter as always, and Duke felt out of place as he took his seat in the back.

It wasn't like this before. He was once the one who caused all this mayhem; the funniest and the loudest. When he spoke, everyone listened. When he wanted something to happen, it did. They used to act like his minions. Now they all blurred into faceless people, with droning voices that didn't seem to make any sense to Duke.

Nothing was clear to him anymore.

"Good morning class," Mrs. Whittler wished cheerfully. Duke looked up and pulled the earphones – that weren't actually playing any music – out of his ears.

Mrs. Whittler was a married woman of about 35, Duke guessed, but you couldn't really tell because she looked so young. She always wore heels, but that didn't make a huge difference to her short stature. She wore bright yellows and oranges, her red hair twisted into a bun. A wide, genuine grin seemed to be plastered onto her face.

"Good morning Mrs. Whittler," the class echoed back. Duke stayed silent.

"So, I'd really love to ask you all about your summers, but that would take way too long, and we only have 45 minutes today. But I bet you guys relaxed and enjoyed yourselves, right?" she asked, in a girlish-sweet voice.

The boys nodded, and the girls murmured assent.

"Well, that's nice to hear." She smiled. Duke plugged his earphones back in, and cranked up the volume, putting his head down on the desk.

"I thought we would start off the first class of the year with –"

Mrs. Whittler stopped talking suddenly. There was a sudden commotion, and everyone started whispering among themselves.

Curious to know what had caused it, Duke looked up, and saw her.

And, for the first time in a long while, his eyes were clear.

He saw her.