Trigger Kids

Chapter 8

"You know," Sebastian starts, lowering to his haunches to inspect an ant hill. "When I was a kid I would go into my dad's  garage where he kept all his science gear and grab a handheld  magnifier from the shelf. Then I'd go outside and sit on the pavement, tilting the thing just so, so that the sun would catch it, and burn ants running through the cracks."

I stood above him, frowning. "That's mean."

"Oh, you have no idea. I used to watch them shrivel up and die." Seb glanced up at me, squinting because of the sun, his mouth forming that perpetual grin. Except this time, it was more grimace than anything.

"But I guess that's all we are too; just ants. And one-day God will use his magnifier to burn us."

I was still frowning at his strange hedonism. "Are you trying to be poetic?"

"A little," he offers up, shrugging. "Did it work?"

"Not really."

"Well then I wasn't trying to be poetic. I was merely pondering the unknown."

Sebastian stands and we stroll across the rest of the grassy commons, on our way to separate lectures.

"I think there's more to you than what you let on, Harvey," I say.

"Oh, trust me, that's not true." He chews on his bottom lip, gazing into the distance. "What you see is what you pretty much get."

I allow this notion to settle with me, judging whether to speak on it... "You're wrong," I say.

"Yeah, but you always say that."

"True, but this time I know you're wrong. Everyone's got some deeper level of thinking, some underlying emotions about certain topics. It's called depth; try searching for it sometime and perhaps you'll get somewhere with your poetic ponderance."

Sebastian knocks his arm against my shoulder as we walk, an action meant to cajole me, but it only makes the butterflies swarm. His constant nearness is beginning to infuriate the portion of my mind craving his touch. Give me all or nothing, is what I want to demand of his inconsistencies. Not some, because some makes me crazy for more. At least if I had none of his unconscious affection, none of his warm and worn out smiles after a long day, none of his verbal teases- then, and only then, might I be cured of this horrible disease. So aptly named too for the way he causes my lungs to crush.

His grin, a crooked fixture, dips into his tone. "See, now this is the psychologist coming out in you, India. You can't figure me out though, I'm a mystery."

"Mysteries are easy to solve- I cracked Nancy Drew before the third chapter back in sixth grade- you, Sebastian, are no mystery."

He laughs, throwing his head back. "So you think you have me down to a tee, do you?"

"Trust me, I've been psycho-analysing you since the minute we met," I reply, watching a Sparrow fly by.

"That's unnerving. Tell me what you've uncovered then, Doctor."

"Well," I say, stopping to turn and face him. "There are patterns of behavior I'd assume to categorize, but then there are slight draw backs, making me question whether you are different or just...you."

"I don't like wordy sentences. Please, enlighten me."

I smile at him, tucking my hands into the pockets of my coat. "Sometimes you'll have trouble focusing, which in many cognitive cases would mean you had some minor form of attention difficulty disorder. But then, you'll contradict that by literally focusing all of your energy on an essay for six hours straight. Similarly, I'd label you an insomniac some nights when I see you downing four sleeping pills but you're still up making a tonne of noise at 2am! But then other times you'll just fall asleep randomly, like in the middle of lectures. Marcus told me so. And, to top it all off, you seem to have a serious case of self-infatuation which would prove the theory of advanced narcissism. Yet you're adamant you don't care what people think of you."

"Wow," Sebastian says after a long time. "You really are obsessed with me."

"Oh, shut up!" I swat his arm, turning away slightly so that he doesn't see me blush. "You're such a dick," I say light-heatedly.

"So, let me get this straight. Basically I'm inconsistent. You want to categorize me, but you can't."

"You're what we call lost souls in the field of psychology."

"There's no such thing!"

"Is so."

Sebastian sighs heavily, sweeping the horizon, his hands on his hips. "Alright then, what do you do with those?"

In the moment I search his green eyes, earthy tones for such otherworldly phenomenon's. I don't think I've ever met someone with more captivating eyes. Secrets. There are secrets there.

"We feed them to the sharks," I whisper.

A slow grin spread across his face to match my own. I believe it was that moment I knew my heart had an invisible string attached to his. Of course he didn't know of this, I'd never tell him. The proof was there with his stories. He would burn ants and light small fires to roast captured butterflies in his backyard, like any ten-year-old boy taunting karma. Only this time his pyromaniac ways had set fires inside me; and I was the only one suffering the consequences.

Author's Note: Soooooooooooooooo, this was a short throwback. Let me know what you guys think about Sebastian so far. Is he a good guy after all?

Love to hear from you,

Maya xx