Our Communications

Chapter 6

Luke’s POV

Right after I finish walking down the steps that lead towards the inner campus from the front office, I forget how to get to the cafeteria… of course. I stand in the middle of a deserted, outdoor hallway - the lunch bells having rung while I was still inside - trying to remember what I saw on the map. After about thirty seconds, I hear pounding footsteps and a smooth and irritated girl’s voice accompanied by a cheery boy’s.

“Do you have to follow me, honestly?” the girl asks.

“Yes, I do,” responds the boy.

“Why?” This sounds like more of a bored statement than a question.

“Because,” the boy states simply. The girl groans.

The next thing I know, I feel an impact on my chest. I steady someone’s shoulders and look down at her. The first thing I see is thick dark, dark hair. When she looks up, her eyes are wide and has a pair of full lips parted slightly in concern. She is Asian, but not too Asian-looking. She wears a grey t-shirt, jeans with a sweater tied around her waist, and lastly, a small pair of black Doc Martens, the source of heavy footsteps I heard earlier. I notice that she is more than a foot shorter than me and that she looks very familiar.

“I’m so sorry,” she says. “I didn’t see you.”

I laugh. “That’s something strange to hear.” I'm a really tall person with strangely long and easy to spot legs. The girl smiles, looking slightly energetic with a stray hair stuck behind the lenses of her glasses. Something registers in my mind.

“Are you the girl from the pictures?” I ask, immediately regretting it moments later. The girl raises her eyebrows, but looks amused.

“I hope not. That sounds a bit scandalous.” she laughs. Her face quickly settles back into a curiously thoughtful expression and I'm sure she is the girl from the photos. As I look at her a bit longer, I see discomfort and question in her eyes and I know what she's thinking.

“I’m a new student, Luke.” I tell her, rocking back on my heels a bit.

“Ah,” she says. “I was wondering why you weren’t in lunch. You're new today. I’m Kiara.”

“And I'm Ashton.” A boy pops out of no-where, making both Kiara and I jump. “You can call me Ash. Kiara calls me Ash. My friends call me Ash, so you can call me Ash.”

Kiara gives Ashton a look without turning her head. “You were still following me.” She states.

He smiles at her. “Yeah, I was, friend.” 

Kiara stares at him for a moment. “You sure have an odd idea of the definition of friendship, Ashton.” She mutters and then starts walking into the front office. “You two can come with me to pick up something, if you want. Then, I could take you to the cafeteria.”

I nod and Ash and I follow Kiara back into the front office.

“Luke, I see you’ve found friends to show you around. That was quick! Oh, they’re good eggs, these two.” The lady at the front desk smiles up at me, somehow organizing papers without looking at them.

“Hello, Mrs. Davidson!” Kiara exclaims quickly. “May I pick up my projects?”

“Of course, dear!” Mrs. Davidson quickly disappears under the counter. “We would have called you up yesterday, but four children were sick and there were three angry mothers – oh, they are so intimidating – and there was just so much going on…”

I tap Kiara’s shoulder and point to the cork board next to the clinic. “These are the pictures I was talking about.”

“Oh gosh,” she says. “How am I in so many of these?” I watch her eye the photographs curiously, turning her head to adjust to the lighting as Ashton plays with paper clips on the counter. “Ew.” I hear her say under her breath as she sometimes sees herself show up. She snickers when she finds herself photobombing the group of boys.

“Friends?” I ask her.

“Oh, no,” she states emphatically. “I just want to see ‘oh-so-cool’ Mason Davis’ face when he realizes his perfect picture was ruined by the Asian freak.” She smiles and laughs lightly to herself, looking pleased. “He saw the camera from the opposite side of the hall and told his posse exactly how to pose so they would look tough in the end of the year slideshow. I thought to myself ‘what a great opportunity to carry out karma’s work against jerks’.”

“She slayed Mason in pre-calc’ last period. It was awesome.” Ashton says, turning away from the counter. Kiara furrows her brows. “Oh, come on. You cannot say that you aren’t proud of that.”

Kiara transitions from furrowing her brows to wiggling them. She shrugs, grinning. “Maybe a little.” I chuckle.

“Here you go, Kiara!” Mrs. Davidson says, placing folders on the counter. “Now you have your finished art project, short story, and extra-credit science report. I’ll tell you, they spent their time on display and in circulation. Take them home. Take Nina’s short story to her, too. You girls did such great jobs.”

Kiara smiles politely. “Thank you Mrs. Davidson, have a nice day.”

Ashton and I follow Kiara out of the front office and towards the cafeteria. “That must have been a lot of work.” I say.

“They say that work seems easier and more fun if you're thinking of it as distraction.” She says.

“I don’t think you ruined Mason’s picture.” I tell Kiara after a moment. “I think you made the big picture a whole lot better than it would have been without you.” She looks at me thoughtfully and then smiles. I give her a toothy grin.

After Kiara checks her watch and exclaims that we’ve missed ten valuable minutes that could have been spent on food, she tightens her sweater around her waist. “Come on guys,” she yells, laughing. “Let’s go, buds! We’re taking a shortcut!” Kiara begins to sprint across the courtyard, cutting a large corner of hallway. Ashton woops and runs along the hallway, predicting an unlikely situation where he beats her to the cafeteria by being a good student. It feels amazing to have friends. I laugh as I follow her, catching any pieces of her (projects) that fly out of her arms as she runs.

Author’s Note:

This is a bad chapter, longer, but it is necessary. I apologize. It’s sort of nice, though. I’m sort of proud of the things that I snuck in like: “’I think you made the big picture a whole lot better than it would have been without you.’” And “I laugh as I follow her, catching any pieces of her (projects) that fly out of her arms as she runs.” The deep, hopeless romantic-parts of the author’s mind come out to play. THIS UPDATE IS 1,145 WORDS WOh (not counting this sentence).