Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Butterflies & The Net ❯ Chapter 13: Leave Me Alone! ( Chapter 13 )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
Butterflies & the Net
by iloveanimecartoons
Genre(s): Psychological/Angst/Drama/Romance
Rating: T
Latest Revision: January 25, 2008
Rating: T
Latest Revision: January 25, 2008
Chapter 13:Leave me alone!
./' Its official
./' My life is on TILT
Making notes to her rough draft, she grinned a rare grin—at least lately they were rare—and put her newest song in her Written Word portfolio.
“Good one. Gonna keep it. Now for my baby...ah, it's almost done!”
This song was about 75% complete so she saved it to her hard drive, floppy disk and flash drive. She'd had a horrendous crash a few years ago on her old PC and learned the hard way to never trust a computer to safely save anything. Her motto: If it's electronic, it's not infallible. Since then, she always had four points of backup: paper, disk, flash drive and hard drive.
That snippet safely saved, she went on to her oldest song—her `old faithful'. Stressed out, depressed, or just plain bored, she always came back to this one. It really kept her centered after her last appointment with Dr. Busch in as much as it took her a lot of concentration to make up lyrics off the top of her head. For that reason, she wasn't nearly as touchy as she may have been in the past.
Outside of some mild touchups, and completing the chorus, she was almost done. Clearing her throat, Solya harmonized the tune, writing the musical instruments she could hear in her head in the margin of the page, and began.
./' I've been biting my tongue with my heart in pain
./' Cause this loneliness is a loser's game
./' But, then again, the heartache is such a…a….
“Hmm… I'll come back to that one…”
./' I can't win, I guess
./' And the closer I feel in my heart for you
./' It gets harder to say how I'm feeling truly
./' You can see
./' Maybe not, I guess
./' That I…I…I—UGH!
“Shit! Shit, shit, shit, shit, shiiiiiiiiiiiiit! Damn it all!” she ranted, nearly balling up the lyrics in the process.
Once again, the lyrics left her mind before they could be formed audibly. This song she'd been working on for months now, picked up in her spare time but now one of her main hobbies, was coming along in bits and pieces. Still, not being able to finish the chorus, a task that usually came much quicker than the actual verses, was grating on her nerves.
“I'm not this inept, dammit!” she snapped to no one at all before taking a few calming breaths, “Calm down, Solya. It's just a song. Breathe, already.”
She'd been writing a lot since the fateful day her therapist kicked her to the curb. Yup. That was her take on the matter. Logic told her it was nothing personal. Emotionally, to have one of the main individuals she could truly say she trusted taken out of the picture… Well, it wasn't a good thing. She'd lived a life that was very sheltered and accommodating for as long back as she could remember, never really having noticed at all what was done by those she knew to maintain her well-being, not that those involved wanted her to know.
The phone rang.
Another call to get back to, she figured. Her head hurt and she just wanted to go back to sleep but, after three straight days of nothing but sleeping between writing, drawing and a meal or whatever snack for good measure and, of course, the occasional bathroom break—eat, sleep, shit…worked for her—her head was warm and throbbing.
“That's what I get for being lazy, I guess. Oh well, best get up and `seize the day' or some such shit,” she grumbled as she stepped out of her pajamas.
No doubt about it…it was gonna be a looooooong day…
`Crap.'
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Jesse was getting worried.
It'd been a week and a day since he'd had any contact with Solya. She didn't answer any of his calls to her cell, emails or Instant Messages. He was considering dropping by her house but brushed that thought away at the possible implications of the act itself. How weird would that look? A guy she'd only known—well really gotten to know, anyway—for little over a couple months, popping up on her to see why she'd been ducking him out.
`Yeah, just as I thought; it makes me sound like some kind of insecure loser. Still…I miss her. She keeps me on my toes and she makes me laugh and she's…one of a kind. Okay, I sound dry whipped.'
Thoughts like that never ceased to bring a smile to his face. He'd been so happy and grateful to run across her again, when he did, that he could only recall babbling like an idiot, trying to get her to keep talking to him. Where had she been all those years, he wondered often.
She was just as pretty as he remembered her, if not prettier, more mature for the years they'd been separated, and he had to constantly tell himself to stop staring.
Finally latching on the one surefire suggestion he could think of to get her to keep in touch with him again or he hoped, anyway, he'd suggested his father's company fundraiser—a jazz concert of sorts. Remembering that she seemed to dig that kind of music when they were kids, he hoped his suggestion would work on his end. It did and as she walked away with his number, he was so it took his a while to realize something was off. He remembered thinking he forgot something but brushed it off as nervousness. Then, about 20 minutes after she walked away, he cursed a blue streak realizing that he didn't get her number. Still, remembering the Solya Amarante he knew, he was fairly certain she wouldn't leave him hanging and anxiously awaited her call.
For over a month.
Part of him was pissed off at himself for forgetting to get her number, another part was kinda pissed—his pride crushed, he figured—that she just brushed him off, still, another part of him was hurt. Why didn't she just say she wasn't interested? Did he come off too strong? Was she still all shy like she used to be? She sure didn't come off that way when he ran into her on the street. Okay, if he had to be honest, she did seem a tad reluctant, but, after the first few minutes of conversation, everything seemed copasetic. At least, he thought so. So, why?
But, Huzzah! She finally called back and he was so relieved. Their conversation was wonderful and his faith in her was restored, if it ever left, to start. He now had that number and laughed out loud at the memory of when she'd finally passing it along.
“So, Jes, my good man…I was advised to pass along my number…I could be convinced…hmmm…what to do…”
“Well, I'm an excellent conversationalist…”
“Pure hearsay. What else ya got?”
“When I fall asleep on the line, my breathing is very soothing…and sexy.”
“Rather confident mannerism…okay, your getting warmer…try again.”
“But, you'll miss my charming personality, Solya,” Jesse whined for effect.
“Charming, he says. Okay, you've earned the test run—cell number! Ready?”
“I am doing the Cabbage Patch over here! Bring it on!”
“You. Are. So. Silly.”
“You ain't seen nothin' yet, babe!”
“Oh? Should I be leery?”
“Not at all! I'm random, but harmless. Got my pen and paper. Gimme, gimme, gimme!”
Solya laughed hard and snorted. “Oh crap…you heard that, didn't ya, Jesse?”
“Oh yeah! That was hellafunny—gives you character.”
“Okay, it's 1 (800) 2 GOOD 4 U”
“Huh. Too good for me, eh? That a fact? Hmmm…cocky much?” Jerrod teased.
“I prefer confident. And, no, that was just for laughs. The real one is (410) 555 7652—seriously! I paid a LOT for that number and when you figure it out, you'll know why.”
“Got it. I'm good with challenges—you ought to see me with a Rubix Cube!” Jesse bragged.
“Might take you up on that. Look, Jes, I hear my front door. Papi's back and I gotta go pick his brain. So, I'll be in touch. Ciao!”
That thought brought him back to the present.
“I'll try one more time and then…maybe I'll stop by or…I dunno, mail her a letter or something,” he decided, chucking as he mentally shucked the last idea for the sheer stalker-ish feel it gave off.
“Yep. It's official. Dry-whipped I am.”
Dialing her cell, hoping that this time, he'd get through, he noted that even her new voicemail greeting was a little disconcerting. It was the woebegone monotone with which she spoke that gave him a bad feeling.
“Greetings. This is Solya. I'm not in or available to answer this call. I'm currently tweaking my portfolio, which takes a lot of my concentration, and therefore chops away at my free time. I'll reply sometime before the year is over. That is all…`beep'”
The phone beeped and he grimaced.
`What the hell? That's not the Solya I know and…uh, know…'
At a loss for what to say, he hung up and dropped his face into his hands.
`Be well, Cuteness...'
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Jerrod was…livid.
Still fuming to himself at the almost-kiss he witnessed after Soya's date—he'd deal with this Jesse character later—her total block out of him was unbelievable and, in his mind, inconceivable. If he were honest with himself, he wasn't mad at Solya per se but, after she came to him in her pain, after that appointment gone awry, he thought she'd at least keep him slightly abreast of what the situation was. Yeah, sure, she said to ask no questions and he unwillingly agreed, but, she hadn't looked nearly that broken since…since…
`No, Jerrod. Don't go there. She wasn't nearly that bad. She was just…sad; for once, honestly, openly sad.'
Smiling wryly at the thought that she trusted him enough for support that day, sometimes, he just felt so proud of the place she'd allowed him to be in, in her life—her very best friend—he took comfort in that if not for just that moment.
`No, that situation is completely different from what she showed me in the waiting room last week after her session. No, this situation wasn't even close to the time she…'
He couldn't finish the thought. To remember how fragile and lost she'd been—she didn't remember him for a while, it seemed—it hurt, really hurt, to think about it. That kind of shattered will, the vast confusion and fear in her eyes; did she even know herself? He'd vowed that day that nothing would ever crush her like that again. He'd be her shield against the evils that lingered in men's hearts, the situations in life that could snatch away her constant smiles and encouragements, her easy-going manner and giving heart—no mater how much she tried to hide it—and reduce her to a shell of a being that he'd sooner die than see again.
Okay, he was man enough to admit it. He was hurt. Why open up to him then snatch herself away like that? If you trust someone, you trust them, right? Why was she going all `mute' on him?
He decided to be optimistic and not go with his usual fear that she was locking folks out and pulling into herself. After all, since her sessions started about a year ago—
`Or, had it been longer? Eh, incidentals…'
—she'd been so much more forthcoming with things and her nightmares were gone and she looked so much happier. He had so much more hope that the past was truly in the past and would never need to be revisited again.
`Please, no…'
His cell phone rang and he yelped before glowering at the infernally loud contraption as he bit his tongue in surprise. Taking a few seconds to lick his tongue around in his mouth to reduce the throbbing and bleeding, he reached for his cell and grinned.
`Jaz. Back to pick my brain, huh? Sorry, chickadee, I'm just as lost as you are.'
But, on the fourth ring he picked up.
“Therrod sbeaking. Hey, Daz,” he attempted as he continued to tend to the tip of his tongue.
“…The hell? You got a cold, PB?” Jazmin asked in concern.
“No, dit's my dongue. I bid it when you cawed,” he managed to respond.
“You sound like your chewing on a bowl of sh—”
“Ewww, Daz! Jill out wit dat. You're nassie as a mug.”
“Look, take a minute to get your tongue together. I'll do all the talking, `kay?”
“Mmm hmm.”
Jazmin stated in with her usual bit of humor, telling of her latest escapades in college dorm life, the guy she met who kept her attention for the last few months and how he had `keeper' potential. Jerrod emitted a snort for that one figuring it was any day before she lost interest and let the guy go with the old `let's be friends' spiel.
Women.
She went on to boast her very effective lie about a `family crisis' that allowed her a 5-day leave so she could be with her relatives—total bull, of course, but what her Dean didn't know wouldn't hurt her—her school workload, and her boredom of the lack of nightlife where she resided, before getting to the nitty gritty. And that nitty gritty, for the past week or so had been the same…
“Where's my TB?”
A good seven minutes had elapsed as she summarized her daily goings on and Jerrod's tongue no longer stung or bleed, though the tip of it was still a tad swollen.
“Damned Bugs Bunny teeth! Damn, that hurt!” Jerrod complained before getting to Jazmin's question for the umpteenth time, “Now, as to the whereabouts of your `TB', I haven't the foggiest. Honest.”
“I miss my TB,” Jazmin pouted, earning a light half-laugh from Jerrod.
“Me, too. Thing is, I'm supposed to have certain tabs on her. I'm her personal slave driver after all.”
“You still crackin' that whip, Jer?” Jazmin teased.
“Lately, no. It's boring as hell without her around. Crazy's drunk, Juan's still singing `Whip Appeal', Peacock's humping around. Larry's being fat and lazy.”
“Be nice…”
“Nice or real, Jazmin, take your choice.”
“You're a mean thing, sometimes.”
“And you still love me. Moving right along. Josie's still taming her Pussycats to the best of her ability and Trev's trying to get a job, if you can believe it. He's been busy typing up resumes and searching the web for what's available. Never took him to be so proficient with that thing.”
“What? The internet?”
“No. His brain,” Jerrod sniggered then hissed when the bump growing on the tip of his tongue grazed the back of his teeth, “Damn, that burned! I need salt water. Hold on.”
While Jerrod went to the kitchen to gargle salt water, Jazmin attempted to call Solya again and…got the answering machine.
`When I see her, I'm gonna shake her good!' she decided, her own thoughts reminding her of one person he hadn't mentioned.
“What about Shakey?”
“What about him?” Jerrod scoffed.
“PB…be nice. You know he's your main apple scrap,” Jazmin chided.
“Do the coconuts grow large at denial?”
“You're so not funny.”
“But, folks laugh anyway, right?”
“Bored ones.”
“Possibly.”
“Jer…”
“Hmm?”
“I just tried to call her again and got no answer. I'm getting suspicious. If there are any two people she stays in touch with, it's us. What do you think…you don't suppose she…?”
“Let's not assume the worst. I'll pop over tomorrow and report back, Jaz. Will that assuage any of your anxiety?”
“Somewhat. Man, I wish I upped the fake funeral more with the dean. I could come see you guys much sooner.”
“Don't sweat it. She'll be glad to see you, whenever you make it.”
“Yeah…”
“I still can't believe you came up with such an elaborate lie like that, Jaz—you could be a friggin' Hollywood producer or something,” Jerrod tried, hoping to lighten his friend's mood.
The three of them—he, Jazmin and Solya—had a tight-knit relationship full of more ups and downs than he, looking back, could fathom. When one was stressed, the trio generally felt it.
`Man, we could make a killing on daytime talk shows.'
“I'm okay, Jer. Thanks for the laughs,” Jazmin chuckled though it was lacking the bubbly tone it usually held.
`Yep, she's worried.'
“No big, Jazmin. Look, nature calls, she screams and she howls. I guess I oughta answer, huh?”
Bubbling with laughter, Jazmin shook her head at her friend's way with words
“Okay. Go shake the snake. We shall holla.”
“Yeah…love ya, Jaz. And don't worry, PB's on the case.”
“Love you back, Booty Butt. Be good.”
With that, they both hung up and Jerrod power walked to the bathroom, dialing Solya's number.
`Alright, Sols, talk to me…'
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The phone just kept ringing and she was getting tired of all the unwanted attention, the pity, the suffocating `concern' that was enough to make her seriously want to roar or break something.
“I'm not some simpleton who can't handle a little drama. I won't shatter into a million pieces is someone whispers Boo. I'm okay with things not being okay. Don't you all get it? Stop calling me. Stop emailing me. Stop filling up my cell's voice message box and draining my fucking battery! Just let me be, can't you all?”
Another ring.
“GAWD, CAN'T I HAVE A MOMENT TO BREATHE?! WHY CAN'T ALL YOU GUYS JUST LEAVE ME THE HELL ALONE?! SHIT!!”
It was this statement that her father walked up to her door, completely overshadowing his simple “Hello, sweetheart.”
Lamar just gaped at her, blown away by the volume and intensity of her voice. Had she ever really let loose like that? Running through his memories, he came up blank. Something was wrong. He suspected this throughout the last week but never questioned, figuring everyone gets a little busy, a little introspective, and a little into what they do every now
“I was just coming to say Happy Birthday, honey,” he replied, “It's 12:01 and, since you were still awake, I figured—”
“Oh. Thanks. Please close the door behind you, Papi,” she grumbled in an embarrassed way.
“Sure,” he agreed, leaving out and closing the door behind him.
Wait. Did she just…curse him out?
Oh, hell, no.
Frustrated or not, that was crossing the line.
Turning back to the room to give her a piece of his mind, he paused. Was that…sniffling he heard?
`Oh, Sunshine…'
Closing the distance to her door, he watched, stupefied, as Solya shuddered in her attempts to hold in her anger. Or was it pain? Her head was bowed and she had one of her papers smashed to her face. He could see the ink bleeding through the paper as her tears slide down.
And he just came to her and held her.
And the damn truly broke.
A/N: This chapter is dedicated to all those who helped me keep me from going under totally into the funk I've been in, lately.
MyBeta, for just being who she is, her patience, her advice, her heart and her humor, I'm still generally level-headed. Thank you for all your help and concern and for all you do period. You're one in a billion!
My partner in randomness, cutechick18, for just doing what she does—making me laugh till I hurt! Thank you, chickadee! **glomps CC**
To Fran from the SprintStorewho, yesterday, went above and beyond what was needed to not only ensure I received a new phone for the one I lost recently, but did so with such care, compassion, and commiseration, that I spent the following few hours squealing, “I'm so happy!”. I hope your boss knows the gem he or she has and I only wish more people who worked with the public were like you. The phone is so CUTE and thanks for letting me hang around till my cab came. Thank you for all you did. **glomps Fran**
To my first and most constant FP.com story reviewer, kittyluvr1, thanks for KIT even when situations out of my control made updates a chore. That you continue to read and review make me Kool-Aid smile every time I think of it. I hope to never disappoint you. **High five**
Mangaluva, who's been more of a help than I can credit in helping me pick my head up off the desk and work on existing like I normally do. Those PMs and entries to TN-EF really made more of a difference than you know. Thank you the kind words you sent my way, today. You made me LMAO!
OROsanfor reading and reviewing my poem…really appreciate that. That chat we had a couple weeks ago, I remember. It may seem run of the mill to you, but I really needed it that day. Thanks for sharing part of that day with me. **glomps ORO**
To Proforcefor being an all around sweetie. Too many things to be said and not make this the longest A/N ever, man, so I'll just say that I so appreciate you and `that thing you do'
Suericfor, well, the allowances made and for your stories that made me laugh, made me cry, made me stop and think and internalize. **glomps Sue**
To one of my favorite new poets on FP.com, the softer side of apples, I thank you for your encouraging emails and wonderful reviews of my poetry. You really helped to assure me that I still have a modicum of talent. Your poems have struck a chord in me that brought serious emotions to life—but they were SO needed. **bows humbly**
To my good cyber bud, Proforceand his loving memory of his mother who yesterday lost her fight with Lou Gehrig's disease. My heart truly goes out to you. Expect your ecards soon.
Lastly, in memory of my late fatherwho gave some of the best Daddy Hugs EVER. I miss you, Daddy. Love you.