Puzzling People

Part 1—Sorting the Pieces


The girl’s ear was pressed against the vibrating door. She, along with everyone else, had been listening in to people singing at the auditions for the shows. Some voices were able to carry a tune, others’ were passable, and a few made ears bleed.

Suddenly, she heard the first good male singing voice of the afternoon spring into the air like an angel’s hum. It had a smooth tone, and a gentle mix to it, that flew in the air like a butterfly. The girl knew that once this boy exited the room, she would give him a hug right on the spot. She knew very few boys who were close to decent at singing, but his voice was amazing.

When the door opened, she saw the boy from her World History class step outside the room. The girl’s eyes grew wide out of astonishment; he did not strike her as the kind of boy who would be interested in theater, or the arts for that matter. She decided against that hug.

Nonetheless, she approached the boy and said, “Great job, you have a really good singing voice,”

The boy turned his body back towards the right. He was a bit confused as to why a strange girl in his history class was even talking to him. Yet, because she was nice to him, he chose to acknowledge her kind remark.

“Thanks…and uh…so do you,” and they went their separate ways.

Part 2—Beginning the Puzzle


“This is brilliant,” the boy thought to himself, “There is no one left to partner with for the Revolutions project…” As he made it to his locker, he saw the girl from his class, who spoke to him at auditions. Based on the way she was in class, he could tell she had quite a handle on the subject. Maybe, they could partner up?

Looking three lockers from the right of his—at the girl’s locker—he saw her getting her books out for a number of classes.

“Now might as well be the time to figure out if she’s partnered with anyone or not,” clearing his throat, the boy said “Hey!”

The girl, startled, turned around to see who had called for her; it was the same boy from auditions three days ago.

“Hello, what’s up?” though she was not so comfortable with the boy’s sudden presence, she kept a smile, and ensured her tone did not reveal any uneasiness.

“So what did you think of that lecture today in history?” he said on impulse.

“It was interesting. Now I have a much bigger understanding of what revolutions are and how they build up and everything! Sorry I’m blabbering and all, I just love history!” she said turning to face her open locker, again.

The boy continued, “That’s really cool. By the way, who are you working with for the project?”

“I don’t know, if I don’t find someone soon, I think I’ll probably do the project on my own,”

“That’s cool,” he said with his back against another closed locker, arms crossed over, looking up at the ceiling, “Same here.”

When he noticed that the girl had already closed her locker and was leaving, he called after her. Crooking his eyebrows in an unsure manner he said, “In that case, well, since neither of us have partners…I mean…do you think you would like to work on the project with me?”

“Oh sure, that sounds nice! Want to get started in the library?” waiting for his response, the girl bit the inside of her cheeks as she smiled.

“Yah…I’ll see you in a few,” he said. “Way to not sound like a blabbering idiot…” he sighed heavily.

“That was interesting…” the girl thought to herself as she proceeded to follow him.

Once, the two of them had made it into the library, work for their history project, together, began. With their laptops open, and listening ears wide, they began by picking their topic, and doing independent searches for databases. The girl turned her laptop around, ready to show him all she had found about the French Revolution. With the resources he was able to obtain, they began to discuss them, compile, and type their information onto their computers. Forcing a smile on her face, the girl tried to crack a few jokes about beheading, which did get the two of them off-topic for the remaining time they had in the library before it closed.

The boy went home feeling no regrets in the partnership. This girl was one of the smartest people he had ever met, and now the sweetest. Maybe he could possibly find a friend in her.

While driving to pick up her little sister from a play-date, the girl realized something—she had misjudged this boy in every way. Perhaps, he was not as big of a jerk as he appeared to be, when he was with the annoying braggarts, at school.

Part 3—Improper Fittings


It was time for the sophomore school trip to California that the students were required to attend in order to “form stronger bonds” with their grade, as the headmaster had stated. The boy and the girl were hanging out with their respective crowds, though they were able to meet up at the hotel and practice lines with each other, in preparation for the upcoming show. As they were practicing lines together a guy in their class, whose nose resembled that of a raven’s beak, came up and said to the girl, “What are you doing flirting with him? No one likes you!”

“Listen,” started the girl, stretching her eyebrows upward, looking directly at Bird-Nose-Guy.

“I am not—” But the boy, smirking, interrupted her with a haughty chuckle.

“Yah, don’t flirt with me…go back to David,” the boy left with Bird-Nose-Guy after the two of them exchanged high-fives.

Those words hurt her like a swarm of bees singing her heart. That was a name she wished her ears never had to hear again. How could anyone, especially this boy, bring him up to her, ever? She shot him a furious, threatening glare that hit its target perfectly. His face pale, eyes wide, and lips bitten, the boy’s error was stuck in his mind like super-glue.

“S***” he realized, as they boarded the bus to take them to dinner, he found himself sinking into the seat.

Part 4—Fixing the Pieces



The girl had trouble finding a place to sit down for dinner that night. To make things more complicated, the only seat available was one that was next to the boy. Reluctantly, she sat down to eat her meal next to the boy.

“Hey,” said Bird-Nose-Guy from behind the girl.

“Bryant, unless you actually have something pleasant to say for once, could you please leave me be so I can just eat in peace?”

“And I am going to be pleasant…I heard about your dog, and I’m really, really sorry. In fact, I would be willing to help by burning down the vet he is staying in so your dog doesn’t have to suffer,”

Keeping tears from escaping her eyelids, she was ready to yell at him for saying such a thing about her dog, Quincy. Before she could say anything to Bryant, the boy who was sitting next to her, stood up from his seat.

The boy did not want to regret making the same mistake twice by letting the girl get hurt, again. Casting a confrontational shadow over Bryant, he yelled, “What the f*** is your problem douche?”

“What? It’s a joke!”

“You insulted her dog, that isn’t funny! Would you just please, just, go away!”

But Bryant continued to laugh, until the boy’s eyebrows had formed a deep “V” and he extended his middle finger to the guy and muttered, “Leave her alone right now, or I will break your nose!” though still laughing, Bryant walked away, and returned to his table, without turning back to take a look at the boy.

The girl’s face was blank. After that insult, and giving Bryant permission to insult her, the boy suddenly defended her? When the boy sat down, he breathed deeply, and looked at her, “If it means anything to you, I’m very, very sorry…I shouldn’t have been a jackass back there,”

“Its…okay,” said the girl softly. Looking up towards him, sliding her hands down her pockets, forcing a half-smile, widening her eyes, and after sighing deeply, she said “Just please…well I mean, I understand that you have your group of guy friends, its just that…can you please promise me you won’t do that to me again?”

“Promise,” said the boy presenting an open embrace, which the girl forgivingly accepted, disregarding the presence of their fellow classmates at the table.

Part 5—Pieces That Fit


Sitting outside the theater, leaning against the walls of the hall, the boy and girl disregarded each other’s presence and focused on the scripts in their hands. They tried to go over their lines independently, but quickly, grew too tired to continue. The silence resumed, and the two of them sat down facing the blank wall, opposite of the one they had their backs pressed upon.

In an attempt to break the silence, the boy looked upward, and said to the girl “I have so much work to do tonight after this…it’s crazy…”

“Tell me about it,” said the girl, staring around the hallway. “I still have to finish my first draft for the 1984 essay, study Spanish, finish my chemistry lab, and take notes for history,”

“Same, only I have French and Pre-Cal and just so much…” clenching his fingers into fists, the boy declared “You know teachers just don’t understand that no one can handle that much pressure,”

“I know, right? If anything, they should just wake up and realize that they were like us once upon a time, and should know very well that we are not miracle working robots with the magic abilities to get everything done as oh-so-perfectly as they want us to,”

“Exactly!” the boy exclaimed, looking at the girl.

“The worst part of this s*** is that its all so we can just go to college get jobs and then continue on with more people…it’s seriously, just so f*ed up,” he nearly chuckled out of disbelief from saying those last few words.

Exchanging a glance with the boy, the girl sighed and said, “I totally get that. There are some days where I just want to scream because all this damn work makes me want to explode like a bomb or something, because it drives me insane…I mean, if it were a person, society would be a really big b****,”

“Hah, I agree. If parents, and teachers did not expect so much of us, maybe high school could be so much easier,”

“I agree, but we can also choose not live up to those exact expectations,”

“I get that as true, but I don’t know if I want to you know…make anyone angry?”

“Guess it depends on how we choose not to follow it,”

“What exactly do you mean by that?”

“Well if you think about it, choosing to be this overwhelmed for the rest of our lives is the result of how we probably decide to live our lives…some things we do either will or will not stress us out more or less…though if anything, right now, I’m currently stressed by the fact that we open next week,”

“Hey don’t worry,” said the boy as he approached the girl and put his hands on her tense arms, “You’ll be great, trust me, you’ve worked so hard on this,”

“But it’s always that damn song…”

“Oh forget what she said about that song…you’ll get it, and even if you don’t it’ll still sound great…”

“Thank you, I just feel like everything is good up to that point,”

“That’s understandable. But, hey…you knew what you were doing from day one…even before then so… well, just know that no matter what, you will be amazing, and kick a lot of ass,”

“And so will you…you really care about this show and…I mean you’re really good, not going to lie…”

“Thanks, but seriously…just try and channel your frustration into your performance, it helps sometimes,”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“You need to relax; breath and take time for yourself…if it helps, feel free to hold my hand, and, if you need to, you can squeeze it for as long and as hard as you want to feel better,”

“Thanks, but I’m not too sure how I feel about accidentally cutting off your blood circulation…”

But before she could finish her sentence, the boy already had his hand grasping hers. His fingers made their way through the spaces between hers’. The girl tightened her grasp around his hand, releasing every ounce of anxiety out of her mind. With her eyes closed, while slowly breathing, it seemed as though things grew less scary than before. Suddenly, she felt the boy’s fingers clasp her hand as though it were secured in some sort of cage. The girl began to feel his worries escape him. As he opened his eyes and stared right through her beaming green eyes, the two of them secured each other’s hands like a puzzle in danger of being pulled apart.

Part 6—Missing Pieces


“So how has your summer been?” the girl asked after taking a sip from her Grande non-fat two-sugar latte.

“Good. How about yours?” the boy replied.

“It’s been fine. Say, mind if I ask something potentially personal?” she said.

“Yes,” he typed matter-of-factly.

“As in I may or may not?” she said, unsurely.

“Just go for it,” he chuckled prior to gulping down his iced tea.

“What are your reasons for…how do I say this…getting with more than one girl at the same party?”

“What exactly do you mean?”

Feeling a pang of rue in her stomach, the girl continued, as if she had no other choice, but to explain, “I’m referring to how you get with multiple girls at a single party instead of just getting with just one,”

“Really…and where are you hearing this from?” his brows narrowed downward, facing the girl across the table.

“Have you seen our school? The idea of keeping a secret is nearly impossible and in many other cases, nonexistent. What do you think?”

The boy stood up halfway and hunched over the table; his hands made a loud banging sound on the table. “You have not seen any of my friends, I have a girl who I’m about to get into a relationship with, and I really don’t do what you’re saying as much as you think.”

“Well in case you didn’t know, I am just concerned as to how true those rumors are, because I was trying to be a good friend!” ignoring the attention being received by the other customers, she stood up and continued, “And what the hell? I never said anything about your friends! And you have a girlfriend, that’s cool for you!”

“You know what,” he began, “You don’t need to worry about me. I’m fine, just trust me,” provoked by everything the boy was saying, the girl retorted,

“Okay. I get it! You didn’t need to get that defensive! I’m not a damn cop for crying out loud!” the fact that the boy simply laughed in response made her more angry with his next words,

“I obviously like to have some fun at parties but I’m not as bad as you think. I mean if this girl lived here in this city, I would actually be in a serious relationship right now!”

“Well hey…in that case, have fun! Enjoy her! In fact you should just go to her right now and hit if off!”

“Maybe I will!”

“Fine! Have a nice trip!”

“You too!”

“Fine!”

“Okay!”

“Fine!” they both concluded. Turning towards each other as they were leaving the girl started,

“Bye,”

“See you later,” said the boy.

“Good-bye”

“Bye”, and they finally got up and left fast, without looking back at each other.

Part 7—Puzzles That Smash


Back home, the girl threw her pillow across the room and screamed. She thought this boy was her best friend. And for some reason or another, he was acting like a complete ass. He’s kind of in a serious relationship with another girl…good for him! Though it was not until hours later that she began to question her current behavior.

She had other friends who acted the same way at parties; why was she making a huge deal out of this friend?

“God I must be insane,” she though out loud to herself.


Maybe, it was because of how he would be kind to her. The way he stood up for her when people mistreated her, the way he would let himself be a shoulder to cry on when needed, and the fact that he even held her hand at times and held her in his arms, for warmth and comfort.

Inhaling heavily, the girl fell face-flat on her bed, letting out a long sigh, as she tried to force herself to sleep. But there were lingering thoughts concerning her encounter with the boy, in need of being settled. Pulling herself off the bed, the girl began to head downstairs.

Perhaps a nice cup of Chamomile tea would help ease her mood.



Part 8—Rebuilding the Puzzle


The boy could only wonder what the girl was thinking. What on earth would possibly motivate her to ask him such questions? This would-be-girlfriend of his was someone he liked to have around…if she did exist.

“Wonder where that came from,” he thought out loud, “Almost girlfriend?” disregarding the false piece of information he gave earlier, he sat down at his desk and began to surf the internet for some time.

As he was trying to get his summer schoolwork done, it suddenly, somehow, struck him—without hesitation, he grabbed his phone and dialed her number. When voicemail took the call, he shut his phone, abruptly.

“Idiot…what were you thinking?” sighing, he knew he was going to have to say something sooner or later. Tomorrow, he was going to leave for vacation with his family. Perhaps sometime away would help clear his head.