Chapter 3
1188 Words
Mind is a powerful thing; it can turn the simplest things into something complicated and t*****e you with every thought that passes your head. It can make everything seem uglier than what it truly is. So at that moment, all I had to do was to distract myself from overthinking everything inside my head. Because it was both too late and too early for regression. Too late, because I couldn't turn back anymore. And too early, because I still had a long way ahead of me.
So in order to distract myself, I attempted to strike up a conversation with Zach Walter when he took off his headphones, seeing as his phone was finally out of charge and so he was reading his book now.
“What's the book called?” I asked out of the blue with a smile and so he closed it, handing it to me. “The Alchemist: a fable about following your dream.” I read the words on its front cover aloud and grinned to myself. “Well, isn't that just ironic.” I gave it back to him. “What's it about?”
“A boy, following his dream.” He shrugged.
“No shit.” I said sarcastically and he smiled in return, running his hand through his shaggy hair sheepishly. “You're not much of a talker, are you?”
“No, not really.” He laughed. “You know; you should really read this book. Its author is a legend.”
“Who is he?” I asked.
“Paulo Coelho.” He responded.
“Thanks, but I'm not really a book-lover.”
“If you don't read books, it doesn't mean you don't like reading.” He said, looking up at me. “It just means that you haven't found the right book yet.”
“That's funny.” I grinned. “People usually tell me that about boys and relationships.”
“Well, it goes for books as well.”
There came a minute of silence due to the fact that we had both ran out of things to say. Until I opened my mouth again and said,
“So what brings you to New York, Zach?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Just like you.”
“You don't know what I'm here for.” I raised a brow, chuckling.
He smiled before saying, “Then why don't you tell me about it?”
I laughed at his witty respond and said, “Well... I'm here for auditioning for this dancing school called Juilliard.”
“Yeah, I've heard of that.” He nodded. “But I thought that it was for music.”
“Well, it has that too.”
“Then how come you're here alone?” He asked with curiosity. “Couldn't your parents make it?”
“Well I'm never seeing you again, so... what the hell.” I sighed before continuing, “They actually don't know that I'm here right now. I mean they must've figured it out by now.” I looked at my watch, seeing that it was almost eight o'clock in the morning. “I – I ran away from home last night.”
I was expecting a dramatic reaction or at least a judgmental look or even widened eyes. But instead he looked at me with understanding before saying,
“Now why is that?”
“Um... wow... I wasn't expecting that question.” I gave a nervous laughter. “I guess everything was just too messed up. You know?”
“Yeah.” He nodded in understanding, but I scoffed at that.
“How can you know? Of course you don't.”
“I know how you feel. Because my world is pretty messed up too. With a little bit of crazy. But I actually like it that way.”
“Ugh. Please tell me you're not one of those people who'd tell me 'look at the full part of the glass.'“ I said teasingly but he shook his head, smiling again.
“Nah. My glass is as empty as you can get.” He shrugged. “But at least this way I can see everything behind that glass more clearly. There is a whole other world back there.”
I laughed. “Why do you talk like that?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know... eyes having stars, a world behind your empty glass of life or whatever...”
“Just like I said: my world is a little bit crazy.”
“A little?” I repeated, raising a brow.
“Okay, fine. Maybe a lot.” He shrugged again, grinning. “But you also have to be crazy to live in my world.”
“I guess I'll be fine here with everybody else. But thanks.” I laughed. “You didn't tell me why you're here, though.”
“I want to experience new things. Visit new places.” He explained.
“Aren't you a bit young for that?” I asked.
“Aren't you a bit young for this?”
“Good point.” I pursed my lips. “How old are you, anyway?”
“Nineteen.” He answered.
“Wow. You don't seem to be older than me.”
“How old are you?” he asked.
“Seventeen. Although I'm turning eighteen in a month, though.”
He nodded and kept quiet for some while before something bumped into my head and so I went on,
“Hey, can I have your number?” I asked, summoning all the courage that I had.
“Why? Don't you already have one?” He teased playfully.
“I meant so we could grab a drink sometime!” I laughed.
“I know. Just kidding.” He laughed along with me and he raised his hand, gesturing me to give him my phone and so I did. He looked down at it with hesitation for some while, before putting his number in it and handing it back to me.
“Thanks.”
We ended up chatting and having small talks until the train finally came to a stop and we both took our backpacks and took off. Walking through the train station alongside each other, we kept quiet until we reached where the taxis had parked.
“I guess this is goodbye, then.” I said, putting my hands in my pockets. “Or at least for some while.”
“You know,” He started. “You told me your secret under the circumstances of never seeing me again.”
“Oops?”
He laughed and waved, “Goodbye, Zoe.”
“Bye.” I waved back and watched him walk away from me.
But there was still something bothering me.
“Hey, Zach!” I called out and he turned around, facing me with a questioning glance. “What did you mean when – when you said I had starts in my eyes?”
He gave me a small smile, saying one last thing before departing our ways,
“You'll understand some day.”
- Writer
