2004-06-09
forward
We just got our class rings. They came in these thick plastic bags that were hard to open. I was ripping at mine when Jaison came over.
Almost everyone has a walk. Their own characteristic swaggers. Not Jaison. His stride is the epitomy of normal. (If there is such a thing.) Maybe if I told him that he'd stop bothering me.
I don't know why he was talking to me, maybe he just watned to get a head start on finding a date for the next dance or something. But he wasn't acting like it. I saw him a few times at school. There were plenty of girls around to keep him company. Jaison was a really good athlete, a life that I didn't really understand or necessarily wanted to. But here he was, just an overall nice guy that I didn't really mind spending time with.
"Hi, Demi. Would you like to go sit in my car while I drive?" He knew this statement referring to the first time he asked but he said it in an ordinary tone.
"No," I had told him weeks ago when he first asked. "No, you can't take me for a ride. I don't like the way that sounds." I wasn't heing hard-to-get then, either. I just felt like being mean.
"Wait, do you carry a knife?" I asked him now.
Jaison rolled his eyes but I knew he was amused. "You tink I have a weapon on me, Demi? Hell no! What, you wanna search my vehicle before you get in it or something?"
It was a crazy idea, but that's how he thought I was as I figured. A quirky smart girl who was cautious and excited around him. But that's not how I remember it.
"I just-" I was still clenching that stupid plastic ring bag, "..want to get this out of the package."
"Here," Jaison said like I expected him to, holding out his hand so he could open it for me. I think boys are good for that sort of stuff. They have multi-functional uses: bottle openers, chaffeurs, pencil tappers during tests, high-place reachers; and alas, plastic packet openers.
He gripped the opposite ends of the bag, which was no bigger than a playing card. Jaison seemed to be really tugging at it.
"It's.. coming," he said between yanks. I just kind of stood there. Well, not just kind of. I stood there. I guess I was supposed to be in awe of his incredible strength.
It burst open. Jaison's arms pulled in opposite outward directions as the plastic remnants floated to the ground.
And the ring. Upon opening, the force shot it into the air. I watched it twirl around, spinning as fast as my heart was beating. It was like a new penny, flickering its shininess through fragments of sunlight. I watched it fall precisely into the center of Jaison's awaiting palm.
He grinned as he gingerly handed it back to me. Pround of his handiwork, I guess.
His hands were digging into his denim pockets and his shoulders shrugged up in a patient pose. "So...?" He said, his eyes wandering the sidewalk under my feet.
"Oh, yeah," I told him, watching his shoulders return to natural position. "Let's go." I think I forgot to thank him for my ring.
Only after I watched Jaison buckle up did I remember the ring in my fist. I had been clenching it so tightly between my fingers that it hurt. I let my hand slowly blossom. Jaison was talking.
"Demi, I got mine, too, you know." His arms casually rested on the steering wheel as he drove.
"Green means go," I told him, indicating to the streetlight above.
As he accelerated, I realized that I must not have been sounding very pleasant like a passenger should. That was just something I always told my mother while I sat in my carseat, yelling up to the front of the car after preschool each day. Green means go mama, I told her. And then she would tell me in a high-pitched voice what a smart little girl I was. Even boys like Jaison are sensitive, too.
"Can I see it?" I asked him about his ring, trying to compensate for my coldness.
"Yeah, it's in the velvet box in the glove compartment. Do you want to radio on?"
I shook my head. "Only if you do," I spoke absentmindedly while opening the glove box.
Minutes passes between that time until when we next spoke. Nothing happened, in fact. Jaison drove, his tires spinning the earth behind them.
Jaison pulled over and looked at me.
"Demi. Are you okay? You haven't said anything for like the past five minutes. Is someting going on?" He looked concerned. Had he been speaking to me before this? How long did I space out?
I smiled at him, feeling stupid. "Sorry," I shook my head again. "I just kind of blanked. You actually keep gloves in your glove compartment?"
"Yes," he nodded and grinned like everything was ok. And it was.
I pulled out the velvet box and took out his ring.
"If you look at mine, let me look at yours." I handed it to him and examined his.
"What a weird symbol," he told me as he pointed to the cerebrum and scroll carved in the side of my ring. "What does it mean?" He half-laughed.
"It's the closest thing they had to a debate sign." Jaison knew I did debate. And maybe even that I was good at it.
"What do you exactly use in debate? Aren't there any objects or symbols?" He was imploring out of polite curiosity.
"Well," I told him hesitantly, "In debate-" (I can admit this sounded mocking) "-we use our skills and abilities. We use all of our knowledge and passion. It itsn't just all represented in some 'symbol.' We use our talent."
He leaned in toward me, looking at his ring in my hands. He knew more about me that I though; I didn't realize it then but he did.
"You use your gifts, your incredible mind. And what is it you think I use?" He challenged.
I looked down at his ring. There on the side was my answer engraved. "A ball," I said and then swallowed hard.
Jaison's eyes were penetrating mine. I couldn't read him. Was he annoyed? No. Hurt? Maybe. "A ball," he repeated it almost at a whisper. It was a bit dramatic.
He held my ring back out to me, waiting for me to do the same. He didn't want me holding it anymore.
I shook my head once more, thinking of the gloves in his glove compartment. Jaison and I had every reason people our age have not to like one another. We had nothing in common. Different outlooks, interests, talents, and above all, different friends. But yet here he was. It was like this about every week, he would see me walking and ask me just to go with him. We wasted gas, went no where and any where and every where. The miles were ours. We understood each other, and for no apparent reason. But everything has a reason.
I smiled in vulnerability as he looked at my face. He didn't see upturned lips and teeth, just anxious happiness.
"Let's- let's trade for a while," I told him.
He nodded slowly, hands back on the steering wheel. He put mine in his velvet box and stored it in the glove compartment, peering in there for a moment.
"They're actually mittens," he returned my smile. And reached for my left hand with his right. Jaison. I was gripping his ring in my other hand. It wouldn't drop. He was holding me, turning on the ignition.
"Where are we going?" He asked brightly as he always had before. He didn't change. It was as if we didn't just have some breakthough that resulted in something more than it was before. Maybe that was the purpose of it afterall. Just to able to know it's all good.
I just looked at him for a second. We knew each other so well at that point. Looking back on this, I had no idea what was ahead in our lives. But I answered with what I knew.
"Forward." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I also must edit in that this is NOT from my own personal life. Jaison and Demi exist, and I am not involved in their lives. I remain boyfriendless, ok? So stop asking for all the juicy details! Instead tell me yours!
leesah-likes at 10:43 p.m.