Isabella Meyn

BRONX MASQUERADE NEW CHAPTER

 

I push open the rusty school gates as I have done every day for the past two years, feeling the sun beating down on my dark skin. I walk forward across the quad and towards the entrance to the school halls, with my shoulders set back and eyes dark from lack of sleep in a look that could be described as “scary”. In the far corner, I notice these boys, more like mindless vermin really, slouched and looking at me as if I was a piece of meat, which I am, technically, but I don’t like it. One of them, Raul I think, approaches me with a lascivious look on his face. Predicting what he will say or do, I increase my speed towards the tall doors.

 

He cups his mouth with his hands and hollers;

“Hey you! New here? Never noticed you before.”

I have been a student at this school for over a year, but I guess no one seems to notice or care. I continue walking, practically running, ignoring his question. I notice him jogging to catch up with me, probably to keep nagging me with his imbecilic comments.

“Damn, slow down,” he says, short of breath. “So, you gotta name girl?”

“Novell.” I reply, with no trace of kindness in my voice.

He looks at me for a second before his face scrunches up in an ugly sneer as says;

“Cute, for a b**ch like you.”

I give him a look that would’ve sent anyone else scampering off, but he was persistent.

“Your trivial derogatory remarks do not move me. Also, it is not my first name, but it is what you will call me from now on. Good day.”

I reply, shocking Raul out of his obvious superiority complex and carefully walking towards the entrance again.

“God. Crazy dyke.”

Out of the corner of my eye I can see him walking back towards his friends, pretending not to notice both Raul’s middle fingers raised in an obvious display of irritation.

 

I thought of what happened as I strolled into the bleary white of the school halls, still smelling of detergent and Clorox from when they were cleaned earlier this morning, but still managing to feel dirty. I guess it is like drawing on the sand; as if after hours of creating an elaborate image, the ocean always washed it away with a wave of dirt.

 

Were boys so desperate for a girls attention that they’d completely resent ones that turned them down? I, myself, have never felt any sort of attraction what's so ever to any boy, but they cannot hold that against me. My ringtone startled me out of my thoughts, the standard ongoing buzz of a device so outmoded it was practically an archeological find, and I rushed to grab it out of my bag, quickly pressing the answer button when I saw that the call what coming from home. I brought my phone up to my ear and uttered a soft “Hello.”, unsurprised to hear my girlfriend, Astrid’s, smooth voice on the other end. With a hushed tone of voice she expressed worry for me, and regret for not being able to accompany me to school on this day.

 

She made a habit of calling me every morning that she is not at school to make sure I was ok, and considering my propinquity to getting into trouble, I don’t blame her. I affirmed that I had arrived on school grounds safely, and was on my way to class, not mentioning anything of this morning as to not add on to her obvious discontent. Before I could get to said class, she hung up with an annoyed sigh and an apology after having seen the two family cats, Benvolio and Mercutio, mewling for attention and clawing at her pant legs. I sometimes wonder what my life would’ve been like if i’d never have gotten involved with Astrid. I don’t regret it, but I realise how easier things would’ve been she and I had never confessed our mutual regard for one another. I can still remember the look on my parents face when they found us out from a second source. I still don’t know who it was. I remember  their faces as they watched their first and only child pack her bags and move to a completely different state and environment, pushed away by their ignorance.

 

Towards the end of the day, I was helping Chankara hand out fliers for the infamous bi-annual chess tournament, which no one really ever signed up for. I walked seamlessly until I strangely found myself at the end of the hall, where there were practically no people or classrooms. I saw that Devon, one of Raul’s friends that weirdly wasn’t present for this morning’s semi-quarrel, was perched in the corner tapping his fingers to his upper thigh in an unknown rhythm. I carefully turned on my feet to scurry away, but It was too late, and he began to approach me silently. He opened his mouth to speak;

“Hey, you the chick who’s been foolin’ with my boy Raul?”

Snapping out of my trance, I replied;

“I have not been, as you say, “foolin’”, with anyone. If what you refer to is the altercation from earlier this morning, I assure you that nothing serious happened.”

He looked at me for a second, searching his brain for the meaning of my words. He sighed deeply and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Now, I won’t pretend to know what that word means, but I guess I can figure it out. What were you fightin’ about, anyway?” He asks, a tad gentler this time.

“He was pursuing me relentlessly, even after I gave him what I thought were clear enough signals to shake him off. He then resorted to name calling, so I ignored him. He seemed to take this as the ultimate rejection. I do not understand why he won’t understand that I do not feel any attraction at all to him. Plus, I am not currently single. His actions are redundant.” I managed, practically out of breath.

I expected him to ridicule me, to not take anything I have said seriously. He surprised me by gently nodding his head, and I felt that he understood what I said.

“Yeah, I get ya. Just don’t let ‘im get to you. Lemme tell ya though, you’re too tough for ya own good. Let those shields down a bit.”

 

I shakingly went back to class, handing the teacher my hall pass and waiting patiently for the bell to ring. I could see where he was right. I should’ve realized my unrelenting act would eventually end up hurting someone, even if that person was me. It wasn’t fair to Astrid or to anyone else who cares about my being that I can’t show them affection, that I can’t let go of my robotic antics for a while and just appreciate that they’re here for me. The taste of regret and guilt in a repulsive combination was almost too much for me to bear, but I can’t say I harbour any resent for Devon’s words. Quite the contrary, actually. I should be grateful he gave me a piece of advice, I don’t know if I could’ve realized all that on my own.

 

Botany

A relation is like

A flourishing flower.

It needs attention, constant

and systematic.

Because if it is neglected,

or merely forgotten,

its petals will wilt,

its once vivid colors will turn somber,

and it’ll bring

anyone who helped firm it to the ground,

helped tend to it,

watched it grow,

down with it.

 

Tyrone:

Never expected that chick to be deep. At least- in the poetry way. I don’t know too much about her, but since all the other poems in this class was about somethin’ tragic happening in someones life, I guess hers was too. Thinkin about it, I never realized she was in this school until today. I gotta start payin’ more attention to people like her.