The Truth About Us

I like lying. I was actually good at it. No one would actually expect me to be a pro.
Well except for my little brother who once asked me, How did you do that? it was
a command for me to respond rather than a question. Did what I asked coyly. You
can fool Mom, Dad, or Aunt Susie, but you and I both know it was you who killed
Ron. It was just a snail. I said brushing off the topic. Answer me his voice was
much firmer. Years and years of practice after that I grabbed the doorknob and
twisted it hoping hed stop interrogating me. But youre only eight! he said with
his eyebrows merging, You how old are you? 5? he replied. You have your
answer then. Then I left the house, left him, left hiss poor eyebrows contracting.
Honestly, I really dont know too. But what the hecks important.
School is fun. Actually more dumb people. I cant comprehend humans, why do they
always fall for my stories. As if no one told them the reality in this world in the first
place. I cheat at exams, steal a classmates pencil, and eat a teachers apple
unnoticed. Until someone noticed it. But shrugs them for some time after realizing it
is futile to even unearth me, the real culprit. I always make sure that my workplace
is immaculate.
Despite the boredom I usually have on class hours, I am really intrigued by my
classmates Marzia. I never knew her name even if we had entered the same middle
school years ago until she was transferred to a seat next to mine now in Adamson
High. Let me replace the word intrigued. I hate her. Shes a nuisance, from the
moment her foot touched the room, to every peaceful mornings she turns to storm
when she brushes her tousled hair. Her voice is so loud she makes Celine Dions To
Love You More barely audible, and her manner of speaking outpaced even Nicki
Minaj on Bang Bang would be ashamed. Dont even make me start with her laugh
that was more than enough to stop my 16 year old eardrum from developing. As a
result, even if it was ironic for me to constantly avoid her despite our distance, in
order for me to stop my patience from depleting. So that my accumulated anger
inside me would cease to reveal my annoyance to her. Thats always me, show no
emotions. It was a rule I made up myself, and the only one I keep on following these
last 16 years.
Every day that I spent on school, spent sitting beside her made me anxious. I finally
made a decision to do something about it. I thought of stealing her notebooks and
throw them in the third grades compost pit at first. But nah, thats what I would do
at first grade though. Maybe something like stealing her worn out tennis shoes. The
one she wears at gym class. From what I have heard, its the only birthday present
her father gave her since 9/11. I hope she wont mind even if I destroy it. Mean, it
thought. But it is puhrrfect.
So I carried out my mischievous plan. First I stole her locker key at Biology class.
She was so engrossed at Mrs. Hermans class genetic lesson she even stood up to

draw a punnet square for a pea plant something. Fucking nerd I whispered.
Norman, the boy in front of Marzia glanced at me. I put a fake smile. Damn you
Norman I shouldnt have saved your ass back at Geometry yesterday, I thought. I
reached out my perfectly slender hand to her bags side pocket. None. I tried going
to the other. None. My heart raced. I started to become nervous, but I calmed
myself after a second. Then I went to search to the main compartment and after at
least three seconds I lifted out a slender metal. Years and years of practice I
remembered the words I said to my brother eight years ago then grinned. Then
Marzia saw me. Sitting on my chair looking bored than ever. She smiled. I replied
with a sigh. I already composed myself for like 10 seconds ago.
Six hours. I waited six idle hours for me to make a climax out of my blueprint. It was
too long I started to believe in forever. But in the middle of that six hours Marzia
smelled my shirts collar like as if I am a chamomile. You smell nice, do you use
that Sesame Street Shampoo I saw at Walmarts? she asked, then smiled. What
makes you think I use that, you only smelled me once I answered, still looking at
the third grades compost pit over the window beside me. Correction. I smell you
almost always since I switched seats with Lyra, also you smell like my little brother.
She nailed it, actually its Big Birds Banana Infused Shampoo, part of the Sesame
Street collection that I was drooling over when I was four . This time she smiled
wider, and on top of that was her eyes perfectly in sync with mine, shimmering. I
like you she added. I thought I skipped a heartbeat. I tried my very best to calm
the flaring blush beneath my acne spotted cheeks, until I was able to produce an
emotionless face, almost inanimate. And then she left her seat. I saw her smiling
dumbly, dumber than ever. God, she annoys me so much.
The next thing I knew was me staring at her barely incinerated shoes. The plastic on
the laces quietly sizzled and shrunk, the once brown surface was darkening by the
minute. White soft smoke blurred my vision, I took a step back. I noticed the smoke
rising higher than I expected reaching the alarm above me. Alarm. What alarm?!
Then it rang, disturbing my nervous system and scattered it all over the hallway.
And then the sprinklers followed killing the fire on Marzias shoes. I attempted to
retrieve it but I knew the guards would soon show up. So I decided to leave and
headed over the schools left wing where there are minimal guards. And I was
relieved to saw none. West Virginia folks dont learn. I scrambled over the footsteps
and rushed over my house 18 blocks over.
The next day, I saw Marzia embracing her partially burned shoes. Mourning at it.
The next day she skipped two out of six class.
Then the next day she was absent.
Then she skipped a whole week.

Until I was relieved to see her again Tuesday. I thought she was never going to show
up. She was back to her own simple and earnest state. And when she finally took
her seat next to me I thought I was going to burst. My breathing was heavy, asthma
I convinced myself. My thoughts in disarray when we even touched each others
hand to reach out Normans pencil, stress I concluded. Coincidence, I lied to myself.
Wednesday I carefully studied her. She was 55 feet tall, a natural nail polish seated
at her 10 slender fingers. Her jaws a box. And lips colored pink. Lips? What was I
thinking about? What changed since I burned her shoes? What change did that one
week brought to my once virgin thoughts?
Do you like me too? she blurted out once. No, and do something worthwhile, for
me to do that first I responded blankly. Im working on that. she said. Marzia are
you coming or what? her friend called her The cafeterias going to run out of
apple crumbles soon you know!. Okay!Okay! I get it she responded. And she
rushed out of the room. Then turned back to throw a flying kiss across me. I dodged
it quickly. She pouted. And after she left, I catch it and cradled it in my palms.
An hour have passed I took the risk of admitting my fucking feelings to her. It
sounded corny but my hands dragged her into an empty room. Then my mouth
worked voluntarily and whispered. I like you too, but I am fickle and dishonest, and
Im afraid that today youre important to me then after some time youd turn to
trash. She motioned to speak but I placed a finger on her lips. And I am the one
who destroyed your shoes. I continued. But to my surprise she gave me her usual
smile. I know. she said But- she placed her thumb on my lips My turn she
smiled now showing her perfect teeth. I laughed a bit. Thats why I skipped a week
trying to figure out how to unlove you, but I discovered that I cant. I still love you
Alex. My worst 9/11 would be losing you. After that she slowly removed her thumb
and replaced it with her lips. I gently followed, and smelled her ,Blackberry? I
whispered she nodded and grinned. Then soft muscles were beneath my top lip, I
responded with a rigid one. Easy boy she said and laughed hardly. And my
divirginized lips laughed too. The 11th graders flocked to their classroom. To my
surprise Marzia dragged me all the way to the rooftop and signaled to continue the
bliss we doomed ourselves upon.