Anyone who hasn’t realized that waiting for someone to use the bathroom sucks is probably the one using the bathroom all the time. There’s an unsettling feeling when you wait for that person to come out. What’s more is that you have to find something to occupy yourself so no one else thinks you’re hopelessly lost. In my case the activity I chose was, once again, tying my shoes. I’m not a perfectionist, and for those who are, I pity them because tying the perfect knot on your shoe takes about as long as it takes a female to change clothes. That is to say, a female not under pressure, because if she was under pressure then the time would be reduced by at least fifty to seventy percent. In the half hour I spent kneeling over my shoe I came up with the possibility that the women’s restroom might exist in an alternate time dimension where time passes slower for them. The end result was worth it, because what came out of the bathroom was the spitting image of the girl that ran into me.
As I trailed her I checked my backpack making one last check I had the supplies required to disguise myself. Once she made it to the field I stayed behind the school wall so I wouldn’t coincidentally arrive at the same time as her. After she covered one fourth of the track I slipped on some glasses and walked along the track to a grass hill on the side. I found a dry spot to sit down and pulled a blank notebook out of my backpack. Looking at the field I clicked my mechanical pencil twice and started to draw. Of course I had no intention of putting any real effort into my drawing, but I needed a good cover up story.
She ran by me a few times without looking at me, but by the third lap I notice that she would occasionally glance at me. I tried my best not to break any movement patterns so she wouldn’t question why I was there. However, that became increasingly difficult when I saw her staring from across the field. I’d begun to think that she was a robot when she finally took a break after her tenth lap. She took a drink of water and started to pace around in a circle. To avoid suspicion I intently stared at my drawing and waited for her to run again. A few seconds later I inhaled sharply as I heard footsteps treading on the grass in my direction.
“Excuse me, do you need something or are you going to keep staring at me while I run?” she asked staring down at me.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that I needed student permission to fulfill an assignment for a drawing class,” I said glancing up at her face. After all that running I was surprised that her face showed no weakness and maintained the cold stare she had in class.
“As long as I’m not in that picture,” she said starting to turn away.
“Don’t worry about that, the world could use one less person,” I called after her.
Just out of earshot I heard her mutter, “Ass.”
I sighed with relief that she either didn’t recognize me or tried to ignore the fact that she hit me. I knew glasses were a good way to change my appearance from a distance, but this worked out better than I expected. I turned back to my drawing and started erasing a figure in the background.
For a while she stopped checking on me and returned to running rigidly. Then, something strange happened. On her sixth lap instead of returning to her bag she walked over to me. I mentally braced myself for what was coming, but instead she extended her hand.
“Look, I think we got off the wrong foot back there, I guess I was being too cautious,” she said apologetically, “My name’s Emma.”
I couldn’t believe that she gave in so easily; I thought that I would have to apologize first. Putting on my best look of wariness I looked up at her and shook her hand, “Vincent,” I said introducing myself.
“So, do you mind if I take a look at your drawing?” she asked.
“Sure,” I said offering my sketchbook to her.
“Hey, this isn’t bad,” she said sitting down next to me, “Looks like you almost got it except one part.”
“What? Where?” I asked examining the drawing.
“That smudge in the background, must have been a big mistake,” she said pointing it out.
“Ah, yes, I suppose I did. I’ll fix it another time,” I said.
“So does that mean you’ll be coming back?” she asked while staring down.
“Well, yeah, it’s an art project so I’ll have to complete multiple drafts,” I explained.
“I see,” she said trailing off. “Oh, you have something on your glasses,” she said pointing to the rim.
“Um, thanks,” I said taking off the glasses to wipe them, “You know-”
“You’re that guy!” she exclaimed, “You’re the guy who I accidentally hit, yesterday.”
I’m dealing with an idiot, I thought. “Yeah, no hard feelings though,” I said putting my glasses back on.
“It must have been really weird to see me here and sorry for being rude again,” she said apologetically.
“It’s not like I didn’t get to insult you back,” I said, “Anyway, I should get going. You’re done for today right?”
“Actually, I have some more stuff to do, she said handing my notebook back.
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said turning to get my backpack.
“Before you go, can I ask you to pretend that you don’t know me at school? It’s not that I don’t trust you or anything, but people have a different image of me,” she pleaded putting her hands together.
“Sure,” I said turning away.
“No, really, it’s nothing personal,” she said catching up to me.
Smirking, I looked her in the eye and told her, “Don’t worry, I completely understand.”
She didn’t say anything after that and returned to her exercise routine. I exhaled with relief that she was unaccustomed to the social system and accepted my appearance at the field. From then on I made it my goal to collect the sufficient data to tear her apart.
The next few days passed with my usual routine with the exception of my afterschool activities. I would continue pretending to be an art student and observe Emma. Since I found out that she stayed longer I extended time at the field and had a total of two conversations with her each day. In any other person’s eyes I was getting to know her, but for me it was learning the blueprints of her structure. Nothing too important was revealed, but as they say the structure has to start with the basic framework. This new routine went smoothly for ten school days until I was held back after school on a Friday.
Usually when Mr. Mills gives me lectures on how I’m wasting my intellect on trivial matters I do my best to prove him wrong in every way and make him even more upset. However, with my newfound activity and the fact that it was a Friday no less I simply stood there and gave him a blank stare. All I could think about was leaving the building and heading down to the field. I found this highly peculiar because I rarely found myself so focused on one task, especially one so mundane as sitting on a hill watching a girl run. Unusual thoughts on an unusual afterschool lecture, I thought amusing myself. After listening to Mr. Mills prattle on for half an hour I decided that he had his fair share of my time and without any hesitation I made my leave.
“Mr. Mills, thank you for your wisdom, I will see you again on Monday,” I said turning to leave.
Just before I made it to the school entrance I saw the rain heavily coming down. I wondered if she already stopped running. Given the weather and the time I wouldn’t have been surprised if she wasn’t there. Also, even if she was still running there wasn’t going to be a place for me to sit and watch. Logic told me that I would be better off driving home. As I opened my umbrella and started to walk towards my car I stopped. On that strange day of odd occurrences I followed my instinct.
Lantern Dragon Works 