The next day we went to the lake instead of the movie theater. It's a nice lake, located halfway between the theater and the school. It is near the edge of the town and is a common spot for people to go after school. And maybe Mona would be there. She does go there quite often, so it would be reasonable to think that.
But if Mona was there, we would probably have to deal with her friend, Edwina Tala. Edwina is basically an iPod left on shuffle forever. With an infinite energy supply and stuck on. So, yeah. What I'm trying to say is that she talks. A lot. She is also very excited about everything. She isn't mean or anything, but she can be a bit annoying at times. Even Mona thinks so.
And luckily (or unluckily I guess) Mona was there with Edwina. They are almost always found together, anyway. So why would today be any different? They were, of course, talking to each other near the water, but not in it. Everyone else seemed to be around them, but that was probably because I was only focusing on Mona. But I couldn't talk to her because she probably wouldn't want to, and then I would just look like an idiot. So I was left to just talk to Lago.
Some people were swimming despite the cold. It's become a sort of challenge. To see who can stay in the water the longest when it is freezing cold like today. And somehow, no one has said that it is a bad idea. Even I've done it a couple of times, but I've never won.
Lago and I just sat on the edge of the water, about twelve feet from Mona and Edwina. I wasn't entirely into our conversation (can you tell why?). It was something about the water and life. I couldn't tell you. But Mona looked amazing today. She put her hair in a ponytail, which hung along her back and swayed back and forth when she moved her head.
I stopped looking for the sake of my conversation with Lago. I couldn't let on that I wasn't paying attention to him. But the conversation ended. He asked me what I thought. I basically said something like this: "Yeah. That sounds great. Good idea."
I must've said the right thing because he didn't seem mad or disappointed. In fact, he said that he wanted to leave; that he had to get home to do homework. I said ok, and that I had work to do as well, and we left, leaving Mona and Edwina to their (very) long conversation. I did manage to catch one last glimpse of Mona, however, as we were leaving. She still looked as fantastic as she did a few minutes ago. And when does she not look fantastic?
And so the next day was pretty ordinary. You know, school, the walk home, and homework. Nothing really special. Lago was being his usual self by hating the world, and I was laying on my bed just wishing that I could be with Mona (but once again, I don’t think that it is going to happen). I stared up at the blank, white ceiling that covered my room. That’s all I did. Just that. Nothing more.
It’s hard to want to do things when you aren’t already doing so. And so I didn’t. I just simply continued to do nothing. But nothing is a funny thing. If you are really doing nothing, then you are still doing nothing. You are concentrating on doing things that you aren’t really used to concentrating. Breathing, for example. And so these concentrated thoughts usually fall into the background, unknown to us all. But now they’re in the foreground, and you don’t know what to make of it. And so you call it nothing.
Nothing.
And nothing more.
And so the days of the week went past and suddenly it was Saturday. Saturday; the day of freedom. You don’t have school and there is no school the next day, so you can do all of the slacking off on your weekend homework that you want. I was supposed to be reading a book for english class, but it was Saturday. How could I be expected to work on such a nice day?
And so Lago and I walked to the park. The park isn’t far from the school; maybe two blocks down from it. And so there was less complaint from Lago. But there was still a little. Not so much about the distance, but that there is never anything to do in the park. I would’ve like to argue that, but I try not to interrupt Lago when he is ranting. It isn’t really his fault that he complains though. He can’t really see the beauty in the world like I try to do. I go to look at the tall trees and the bright, vibrant flowers and the large fountain. I go to hear all of the insects there that live and thrive, but stay out of sight. Lago can’t see any of this, and if he could, he probably wouldn’t know what to make of it. He hasn’t been able to see it for so long. It would be a shock. After all, it’s been so long since he’s been with his parents.
The park wasn’t so bad. Lago and I sat down near the fountain, but not right next to it. About five twenty feet off; maybe twenty five. We sat and looked around at nature around us. It’s about the most natural thing you’ll see in this town. To see more, you’d have to go outside the town, which is quite a walk. We watched the activity around us, the birds chirping, the trees silently living, and the fact that no one else was there. It was perfect.
There were maybe a few people there. Some children playing frisbee, some parents talking while they do so. But it wasn’t as crowded as you would expect. And so we ended up going home relatively quickly. And this was odd because, well, Mountain Grove is a small town with not much to do.
On the way home, Lago remembered that he had to go somewhere (of which I’m not entirely sure). It might have been something about school. He darted off in another direction while he shouted his destination over his shoulder. And so, I was alone on my walk home. Which again, was odd.
The world seemed to be a bit colder than I remembered a second ago, and the walk seemed to be a bit longer. I quickened my pace to make up for it, but to no avail. Each step was painfully long and each block went on for ages. But I eventually made it home. The walk had only been about ten minutes long. And this was not odd at all.
By the time that I made it home, Lago had somehow managed to stop at the bakery and also make it home. He handed me cookie as I walked into the door and walked away, not even uttering a single word. The door slammed upstairs about a minute later.
And so I was able to walk up to my room in silence, which was soon followed by my consumption of a cookie, and a long nap.
