Chapter 2
When I think of easiness, I always think of emptiness. How often one hides behind the other. Easiness is balmy, unobtrusive, soft, like a fluffy cloud. Emptiness is the expression of inertness and stasis in the face of dynamic inner changes.
I want to be at ease forever.
I want to stay in the emptiness for good.
I don’t want to change.
I want to stay.
“Quiet, please. The class will be over soon.”
I glanced at the black hand of the clock hanging above the green chalkboard.
Too slow.
Time has forgotten it’s not a snail. This is our third class today, but it feels like the sixth. Thinking gets increasingly more difficult, and the allure of skipping the rest of classes feels highly tempting.
Teacher’s voice was so monotone it was hard to keep track of the lecture. I actually began dozing off. My brain was on the verge of shutting down, while my right hand kept taking notes, as if possessed by a separate entity.
I turned my head to look at Bell, she seemed as cheery and invested as ever. How does she do it?
Fatigue ate away at my brain, and I could no longer comprehend information. I felt like an overflowing can. No matter how hard you try, you won’t add more to it .
Faint headache was throbbing in my temples. The piercing sound of recess bell only made it worse. The auditorium buzzed with voices like a beehive. I stayed in my seat. It’s lunch time, and the noon recess, too. Everyone was in a hurry to get in the line and snatch a good table at the cafeteria.
I closed my eyes and began to breathe deeply.
When I was at the hospital, doctors suspected I had a regular anemia, but the lab tests dismissed the initial diagnosis.
Next, they made a barrage of hypotheses, from common fatigue to a brain cyst pressing on the surrounding tissues and disrupting the circulation.
They did an MRI, but learned nothing new.
In the meantime, headaches kept tormenting me even at the hospital.
They began giving me saline drips that would alleviate the pain for a time.
Eventually, they prescribed me vitamins and painkillers and I was discharged.
I opened my eyes and saw Bell talking to the teacher.
My phone began vibrating and I walked out of the auditorium.
My family set up a group chat to stay in touch. I like sharing pics to show where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing, as well as checking the snippets of the life back home. I like learning what mom cooked or where dad and her went over the weekend.
They began having date nights more often once I left.
They have been spending more time together.
I’m happy for them, and I miss them terribly.
I miss my room, and my noisy Rayville. As much as Rayville was my city, Ilion felt completely alien.
I was used to crowds, the buzzing energy of the city, its wild rhythm and the easy access to things, food and fun things to do.
When I arrived to Ilion, the town looked dead.
I could never understand how places could turn into ghost towns, but Ilion really felt like a fitting candidate to become one.
I only go back to Rayville on holidays, if ever. My city is over twelve hundred miles away from Ilion. Ilion has no airports, no railway, I have to take a bus to visit home .
I rested against a cool wall and left a message in the chat, saying I was okay and the headache was gone.
“A rose for the fair lady. Red like her lips. As vibrant as she is.”
Oscar held a red rose out to me. The rose bud was bulky and lush, its stem long and sturdy. It looked like it was just snipped off a large blooming bush in a greenhouse somewhere.
I was so confused by the sudden gesture, I grabbed the rose with my right hand roughly. As soon as the rose touched my hand, it’s fine thorns pierced my skin like tiny needles. I hissed in pain and dropped it.
Tiny droplets of blood beaded at my fingertips and the skin of my palm. A few thorns got stuck in my hand, sticking out, as if refusing my touch.
“Damn. Doll face. Who takes a rose like that? Roses have thorns.”
Oscar jerked my hand towards him and began pulling the thorns out one by one painfully.
Once done, he gave me a wide smile, showing off his straight pearly whites. He felt like a hero.
I smiled back at him.
Just to be nice.
Oscar was a tall, athletic guy with dirty blond hair and deep blue eyes.
Interestingly, he had blue blood flowing in his veins, too.
He was born into a wealthy family with an imposing lineage and a grand estate.
And, being a man who hadn’t worked a day in his life and never struggled when it came to money, he enjoyed flashing his cash.
As the only child, he was used to being the first at everything.
A dozen times I saw his smile grow wider, eyes bulging, breath hitching in his chest as he realized he was the first.
Last generations of the Staffords attended the Roncalli University. Our university was considered one of the oldest, which automatically added to its prestige .
The aristocratic presence also improved its reputation. That had to be the reason why it still got to keep the lights on while the rest of the town was slowly withering away around it, like an old man in a rocking chair.
Each academic year, his father would give him a new car, actually thinking his son was a diligent student.
He wasn’t aware, however, of the bribes he’d give out to skip classes, or the blank envelopes he’d hand over to pass the finals.
He threw parties, drinking until he blacked out, struggling to remember who he had fights with the next day.
Latest word on the street said he’d gotten so drunk, he ended up punching a girl at a party for spilling beer on him on accident. The girl pressed charges, but the very next day there was no police report, nor were there any accusations from the girl herself.
Oscar bent over and picked the rose up.
“Now, are you gonna take my rose, doll?”
I smiled weakly and carefully took the rose in my hand.
“Have you had lunch yet?”
“No. But I’m waiting for Bell. We always have lunch together.”
I turned around to try and look for her.
“I saw her leave. Come on.”
Oscar rested his heavy arm on my shoulders and began dragging me towards the cafeteria.
The lunchroom was so loud, my headache grew stronger. People were chatting, trying to talk over each other, their cutlery clattering. They laughed loudly and called friends over to their tables.
A long line stretched from the entrance to the register. There were so many people, it seemed like there’d be no room left for us, which was more than likely.
Oscar led us to the lunch counter. He rudely pushed away a couple of guys in the line and squeezed me in. They glared at him before taking a spot behind us without a word .
“Take whatever you want, doll, it’s on me. I’m gonna have a word with my bros.”
I nodded and began picking out the food, placing it on a tray.
Oscar was a Sports major. He told me once, “I like doing more than I like thinking.” And that’s how it was.
Oscar never thinks. Moral dilemmas about his actions rarely graced his brain.
He’s confident in himself and his actions.
He knows what he likes or doesn’t like. He isn’t used to thinking or following a schedule.
His life path is already padded with lily-white feather-beds, with daddy standing guard over him, ready to save him from any grievances.
Oscar has never actually been worried or anxious about anything. He has no idea what it’s like not to know, who you want to become or what you want to do. He barely cares about it. He lives for the moment and enjoys life.
I like this nonchalance about him.
I want to be tainted by it.
“Zoe, why didn’t you wait for me? We always have lunch together. Besides, it’s my turn to pay today.”
Bell looked at me with her eyes of tree-bark umber, knitting her neat eyebrows together.
“I’m sorry. It’s Oscar. He told me he saw you leaving.”
Bell’s eyes narrowed.
“The donkey-boy lied to you.”
“Don’t call him that. He might hear you,” I whispered, looking back.
“Oh, right. Why would I call him that,” Bell said, smirking.
Bell was moving tea glasses around, looking for a perfect one. The one with no chips, no fingerprints, and the right amount of tea. She reached out to the far corner and placed one on her tray.
I took the glass of tea nearest to me and turned my hand to take a look at my hurt palm.
“He gave me a rose. ”
Bell looked down.
“What happened to your hand?”
“I gripped the rose too hard. Forgot about the thorns.”
“You don’t even like roses. He could have asked what kind of flowers you like.”
Bell placed a small bowl of salad on her tray.
“Guys can’t be as thoughtful as we are. It’s alright.”
I picked up another bowl of the same salad and put in on my tray.
“What is? That he doesn’t know how to ask?”
I smirked and added a pear to my tray.
“I don’t like roses, but I’m glad he gave me one.”
“Zo, you’ve heard the tale, didn’t you?” Bell asked, lowering her voice.
“What tale?”
Oscar cut in out of nowhere. Startled, I jumped a little.
He laid his left arm on my shoulders. The moment he saw the pear, he reached out to grab it. Once he bit into it, I could see it wasn’t a ripe one.
“The one where you punch girls in the face.”
Bell was annoyed.
He huffed.
“That’s nothing but gossip, Isabella. Why are you listening to it? I never hit anybody.”
“I saw the pictures. Half her face was bruised up.”
“You don’t have to be Sherlock to see it’s Pho-to-shop. She knew I had money and wanted to rip me off.”
“Just admit, you’ve done it. Why can’t you own up to it?”
He pulled his arm off my shoulders and began to fling about.
“Because I didn’t do it. And yes, I paid her.”
Bell clicked her tongue.
“Now we know why she won’t talk about it. ”
“I didn’t pay for her silence, I paid off to make her stop blackmailing me. Don’t you get it? I’m the victim, not her.”
Bell waived him away and kept moving her tray.
He turned to me and laid his arm back on my shoulders.
“Bad things happen to good people, Zoe. I know why she came up with it, and I’m ready to help out. I was told to always help those in need.”
Bell smiled crookedly at his words and took her wallet out to pay at the register.
“Do you believe me, Zoe?”
He looked me in the eye, waiting for my response.
“Zo, I left my card in the dorms. Can you pay today?”
He broke into a broad smile.
“I’ll pay.”
Oscar placed his card on the terminal and it pinged, announcing the payment was successful.
“That wasn’t necessary.”
Bell looked at him coldly, her gaze nothing short of hateful.
“No problem. I like helping people. Especially those in need.”
He winked at her, took my tray and led me away, to his friends.
I turned to look at Bell and she rolled her eyes.