Strum: Chapter Six | Teen Ink

Strum: Chapter Six

November 12, 2010
By Eer320 PLATINUM, S. China, Maine
Eer320 PLATINUM, S. China, Maine
20 articles 4 photos 39 comments

Favorite Quote:
"Life is like a box of crayons. Most people are the 8-color boxes, but what you're really looking for are the 64-color boxes with the sharpeners on the back. I fancy myself to be a 64-color box, though I've got a few missing. It's ok though, because I've got some more vibrant colors like periwinkle at my disposal. I have a bit of a problem though in that I can only meet the 8-color boxes. Does anyone else have that problem? I mean there are so many different colors of life, of feeling, of articulation.. so when I meet someone who's an 8-color type.. I'm like, hey girl, magenta! and she's like, oh, you mean purple! and she goes off on her purple thing, and I'm like, no - I want magenta!"

The next morning wasn’t totally easy, after my disappointment in her, and her embarrassment about the whole situation. I was waiting all morning for her to crack the ice, but she wouldn’t make the move, so I was going to have to be the one to get rid of the chill.

It was in the car ride, on the way to school.

“Look, Mom,” I started.

“No, hun. Don’t say you’re sorry, I should be sorry.” She sighed. Her knuckles were white, that’s how tight she was holding the steering wheel.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Mom.”

“Oh, but I did.” She said.

We had pulled up to the school, and I was kind of embarrassed to be in the car, being lectured by my mom.

“Alright, well, bye Mom.” And I left, jamming my earbuds into my ears, with Evanescence blasting. I walked up a ways, and felt a tap on my shoulder.

“HEY!” I whirled, hand at the ready to slap someone. But Chasity was there, smirking, as always.

“What are you listening too …” She trailed off, just as a group of loud boys went by. I watched her eyes follow a brunette boy, whose hair hung in his eyes, and was tall and lanky. He had a soccer bag slung over his shoulder.

As he disappeared into the school, Chasity caught me looking at her. She blushed.

“What?” She asked.

“Who was that?” I asked her slyly. She blushed even more.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She said, fiddling with her backpack strap.

“Okay, yup, sure.” I said. “What is his name?”

She sighed. “His name is Jack Evans. He’s a captain on the soccer team, and he lives in my apartment building.”

“Ooh, so is there something there?” I asked, stifling laughter.

“What?! No!” She yelled. And then she blushed. “I haven’t even talked to him before.”

“Really?” I asked, actually surprised. “Well, let me introduce you …” I turned to follow him, but she grabbed me. She looked right into my eyes, any trace of a smile gone.

“No.” She said, quiet and firm. “Don’t.”

“Well, then.” I said. “But I expect to hear more about this later!”

We went our separate ways, and I was wondering why I wasn’t allowed to introduce her to Jack. Chasity was never that serious.

? ?

I was walking home with Ben, Chasity, and Spencer. I trusted all of them, so I felt it was a good time to consult Chasity about Jack.

“Hey, Chas.” I started. “Can you tell me about Jack now?”

She glanced over at Spencer. Don’t ask me why, she just did. “Uh, sure. What do you want to know?”

“Why wouldn’t you let me introduce you?” I asked.

“Well …” She looked over at Spencer again, and I noticed he was bright red. With anger or embarrassment, I didn’t know.

“Well what?”

“I didn’t want you to introduce me because - ”

“BECAUSE HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND!” Spencer yelled, and walked away swiftly, pulling Ben behind him. Ben looked back, confusion and apology on his face.

I looked over at Chasity, and could tell she was confused too. Her face was white, white as a sheet, and a single tear rolled down her cheek.

“Hey, um …”

“I’m coming to your house.” She said, not looking at me.

“But your mom - ”

“She won’t give a care.” Chasity said, and I was surprised by her ferocity.

“Ok, well then.”

? ?

We walked into my apartment, and Chasity looked around, with her nose wrinkled. Her apartment must be nicer than this.

“Dude, I’m sorry, but we’re not as rich as you.” I said. She looked over at me, and then looked down at her shoes, guilty.

“Sorry.” She mumbled.

“So, why did you want to come home with me?”

She glanced around.

“It’s just us.” I said.

“We need to talk.”

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