Breathe

Chapter 34 - Cut Cucumber

When we arrived back at the dorm, I could already hear the sound of a knife chopping against wood and water running. In the kitchen, Esmae and Chris were already going at it with Chris washing the vegetables and Esmae chopping them. However, for some reason, Chris seemed to be a bit too excited. Water was splashing all over the floor and Mae, being absentminded, wasn't reprimanding him or saying anything. Instead, she was looking at the ceiling in a daze with her eyes clouded. Miraculously, she hadn't cut herself but she was being slower than usual. The sound of the knife seemed to slice through the silence in the room, even more so than the rushing water.

Walking over to them, I asked her, "Is something wrong?"

She let out a squeak and dropped her knife. It hit the floor but thankfully didn't hit anything else. Turning around, she threw me a pout. "Geez, Al! What gives? You scared me half to death!"

"By the way you were cutting, you were more of a danger to yourself than me," I remarked. Looking at her plate, I noticed the lack of progress. Looking back at her, I repeated, "Is something wrong?"

"Not really...I guess I have some things on my mind, but it's really no big deal. Just girl stuff—that's all." With a confused look in her eye, she asked, "Why'd you ask?" I pointed at her plate. She laughed awkwardly. "Oh yeah... that. I promise I'll get to it before five."

Sighing, I told her, "It's already five."

She jumped again, turned around, and started chopping faster. All the while, she chanted, "Crap, crap, crap, crap!" Her blade got dangerously close to her fingers. However, before I could say anything, the damage was already dealt.

"Crap!" she screamed. Her body trembling, she dropped the knife on the plate. Lifting her cut finger, she sucked on it as she let out a cry of pain. Her eyes teared up a little and before I knew it, she was running to the bathroom and screaming, "Take over for me, Al!"

Not wanting production to cease, I started to cut the vegetables. Nearby, I heard Chris curse under his breath.

"Fucking Kirk," he cursed, "if he gets in the way again, I'm going to cut him."

Curiously, I asked, "What did Kirk do?"

Looking at me, with a disgusted face, he snarled, "He started making Esmae act weird." Going back to his vegetables, he continued, "After you stopped hanging out with Danielle, Phil, and Esmae after school, they split up and now, Dani hangs out with some weird people somewhere else in the Liberation Alliance and Phil kinda does his own thing. As for Esmae, she's started to hang out with Kirk a lot... you know, weird Kirk who's the son of—"

"The Commander," I interrupted, "I know."

It was a little peculiar that after leaving them they split, but I didn't ask any questions regarding that.

"Anyway, because of that, she's been starting to just look at the ceiling and talk about things to herself. Well, talk to herself more, I guess. I honestly hate it and have told her to get her shit together but for some reason, that's only made things worse." He scoffed. "Just watch. Soon, she's just going to be all over him like an omelet over fried rice. Then, she's going to get dumped in the worst way possible and become some suicidal, depressed girl because 'the one' rejected her or some shit. That's going to be a pain to get through."

"It sounds like you care about her," I commented.

The sound of harshly scrubbing vegetables stopped. "What?"

Repeating myself, I stated, "It sounds like you care about her."

He laughed. "No, I'm done with her bullshit." More scrubbing sounds. "And I know that she's going to get dumped because it's bound to happen because it's Esmae we're talking about. She's going to get dumped and she's going to cry and who will have to deal with it? Me—'cause I spend the most time with her now. And she's going to cry, and cry, and cry, and I'm just going to have to deal with it, and deal with it, and deal with it. I'd like it if that didn't happen, but I know what happens, happens."

"Chris, the more you talk, the more it sounds like you care about her."

"I do NOT care about Esmae!" he exclaimed. Looking into the hallway, he softly murmured, "I just don't want to deal with her 'girl stuff' if I can help it. Believe me, I could care less if Newvy or Axel or Luckas or even you found someone. Be my guest—do whatever you want. But Esmae? She can't handle that stuff. You and I both know she can't. And when she can't..." He looked away. His eyes saddened and in my mind, I could see his ears droop. "That's when things fall apart."

Back to scrubbing.

"Anyway, I hope that things with Kirk end soon. Also, it'd be a good thing if you and Phil and Dani and Esmae started hanging out again. She's been talking about how she feels like everyone's been splitting apart lately, and her being in good company would be good for her. Maybe then, she'll stop complaining to me so much."

Looking at the irritated boy, I couldn't help but smile. Noticing it, he threw me a look and asked, "What? Is there something on my face?"

I shook my head and let my face fall back to normal. "No, nothing. I was simply thinking about things."

Once more, he scoffed. Under his breath, he murmured, "You're weird," turned off the water, and went to go prepare the sauce.

As I cut my last batch of vegetables, I thought about us: the Liberalists. Although we've only known each other for a few months, so many connections had already formed. Chris has formed a connection with Esmae and so has Dani. Luckas and Axel and Newvy are now relatively close, and Phil's trying somewhat. As for me... who am I connected to?

After all these months of being surrounded by people, I still don't know how I feel about others. Though there have been times where I've felt something different, like a rush of an unfamiliar yet warm feeling, I haven't been able to pinpoint the reason why I feel the way that I do.

Even now, as I awkwardly smile at this cucumber, I can't place my feelings. Is it joy? Happiness? Affection? I'm none the wiser—none of it makes sense. Looking at the others, I can tell what emotions that they are trying to express. But me? What emotions am I feeling right now?

Then again, are they truly my feelings?

Faces flashed in my mind, and that warm feeling arrived again. But what was this? What could I call this? It's pleasant, yes, but is it because I associate them with warmth or because I feel something else for them? And if there's something else... what is it?

Taking a piece of the cut cucumber, I ate it. It tasted sweet—similar to these feelings residing in my heart. But it wasn't quite as obvious and left more of an aftertaste in my mouth. Also, it was stronger—tougher—than this small piece and much bigger than it, too. But what was this feeling and were they my feelings? My eyes narrowed as the bitter taste finally kicked in and I didn't know what to do.