Campfire - Chapter 3

Campfire

_3_

A million thoughts

In my head

Should I let my heart keep listening?

‘Cause until now, I’ve walked that line

Nothing’s lost but something’s missing.

She closes her eyes and lets the music take over. The sweet melody flows from her lips, harmonizing with the instrumental notes. Her voice is high and clear, so powerful with emotions. Now and then, her fellow musicians would glance at her with amazement in their eyes, but she keeps hers closed, unaware of any but the music filling her lungs.

I can’t decide

What’s wrong, what’s right

Which way should I go?

She really likes this song. It comes from a Disney movie and goes really well with her style.

If only I knew what my heart was telling me

I don’t know what I’m feeling

Is it just a dream?

Oh oh, yeah.

If only I can read the signs in front of me

I can find a way to who I’m meant to be.

Oh oh, if only…

It is not a happy song for people in love. The girl in the movie is conflicted between what she knows in the past and the newly developed feelings she’s never learned. Coincidentally, that is exactly how she feels at the moment. A twinge of pensiveness mixed with a hint of confusion and sadness is ranging in her mind. And she sings the words that speak her heart:

Am I crazy?

Maybe we could happen

Will you still be with me

When the magic all runs out…

Her voice reaches pitch perfect when the song comes to its climax then slowly lowers and fades away as the music ceases. She lets out a barely audible sign and steps down from the wooden platform in the garage her band uses as a practice stage.

If only…

~o~

She places her chin on her balm as she thinks about him.

He is her lab partner in her Chemistry class.

Although he is not exactly handsome, there is something about his nerdy look that strikes her as cute and appealing.  But then, she has always preferred brain to brawn.

He is tall and lean. His skin is fair – a trait she unadmitedly envies. Really, he plays soccer all day. How on Earth can he still have such nice colour? His hands are also very nice, with long, elegant fingers. Sometimes, she wonders what it would be like to hold them and be held by them. She smiles softly when she recalls a line from a movie she just watches: “Men with beautiful hands are often lazy”. She guesses it is true though.

He wears a pair of thick silvery glasses, which successfully hide his beautiful eyes from inquisitive sights. And he has such beautiful eyes: big and almond-shaped, warm and soft brown, making her wanting to swoon every time she stares into those mesmerizing orbs. She hates his glasses for what they keep hidden, but at the same time, she loves how the colour stands out so vividly when she looks at him from her hideout on the clock tower. Adding to his already really lovely eyes, his eyebrows are quite a nice view. They are thick and bold, making his face sharper and a little more edgy. He has black ruffled hair that spikes up all over the place. However hard it tries, the black trains still cannot cover his large intelligent forehead. His chin is V-line with high cheek bones; freckles litters across his nose and cheeks. Not handsome, but cute and quite easy to look at.

And then, there are his lips. Owning a pair of perfectly-shaped lips herself and always looking at people’s lower part of the face when talking, she is drawn to guys with a spectacularity in the feature. While other girls like muscled guys with manly face, she likes a guy with nice smiles and intelligence eyes. And he, aside from those bright brown eyes, just happens to have the most beautiful lips she has ever seen: heart-shaped and of a light pink, perfect size and position, accompanied by a muscular deep voice that is totally unrelated to the nice trait, they makes her heart dance around in a two-step in her chest.

Her mind wanders off as she again sits alone on the window still of the clock tower.

She is thinking about the time she first notice him.

The time he becomes more than just a pedestrian in her life.

In the Chemistry experiment period.

She remembers him being nervous and jumpy.

She remembers him clumsily dropping and shattering a test tube and then again clumsily cutting himself on one of the sharp shards.

She remembers kneeling down beside him (which, she thinks, makes him jump out of his skin) and dressing his cut with a band aid.

She remembers teasing him about the school’s lack of budget.

She remembers his face turning red and him trying to avoid her eyes.

And she remembers that, she was thinking: He is so adorable…

She smiles quietly.

~o~

I am so crazy.

She inwardly scolds herself when again she finds her stupid eyes following the white-clad back of his and music starting to play in her brain.

It’s amazing.

It’s amazing.

All that you can do.

Oh shut up!

She mentally scolds.

That song is not even relevant.

No! – is her mind’s obdurate reply.

It’s amazing

Makes my heart sick

Now it’s up to you

Holy Poseidon! I give up!

She thinks with exasperation and puts her face in her palm in a futile attempt to block out his image.

She’s never known how big his eyes are when he takes off his glasses.

Nor how the brown is more honey-golden under the sunlight.

Nor that he has such a lovely smile that seems to brighten his face and show off his pearly teeth. 

Stop it, you idiotic brain!

This is ludicrous!

She mentally slaps herself (yes, you heard me, S-L-A-P)

She is so out of her mind.

She signs, casting a glance at his direction.

She is so done.