Placebo Hearts Chapter 4: Spark

Author's Note: Hello, everybody. Here's the fourth chapter of this novel. (Finally!) Things are about to get interesting. If you haven't had a chance to read the previous three, here are chapters 1-3 respectively: 

Chapter 1: http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/work.php?id=109...

Chapter 2: http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/work.php?id=109...

Chapter 3: http://www.youngwriterssociety.com/work.php?id=111...

Also, for those of you who did read the previous chapters, I took the liberty of changing both the location of the school and the time of year. What I realized was that the kind of setting I was going for was far more suited to Washington State in the Spring than MA in the winter. It didn't change anything other than a few words here and there, as I'd already described that type of setting anyway. Enjoy! :D

Chapter 4: Spark

As I placed the final touches on my wonderful hair and applied two final glops of Dove Men Plus Care moisturizer to my supple cheeks, I was filled with a sense of burning pride. Only a day ago, I had managed to skip a stone a whopping total of seven times before watching it sink to the bottom of the Brimmley Pond. Sundays were always better than Saturdays. There were no toilets to clean and no smelly rich dudes to tell you what a terrible job you were doing. Sunday was also what we at Brimmley Academy called "Drop Day." All of the students would drop their academy ID's off at the front office before a day free of classes, studying, and all of the heinous debauchery that came with them. Not having classes was amazing, but that wasn't the reason Drop Day was my favorite day of the week. It was my favorite day of the week because it was just about the only time I got to be away from Chris for an entire eight-hour school day...and that meant away from Jamie Porifero. If I wanted to go skip some stones at the pond, I could. If i wanted to go make faces at Mrs. Leland through her office window, I could. Drop Day was the one day of the week when the wild tiger in the woods could be just that: wild. Of course I would have to deal with the "consequences" on the following Monday, but Chris usually did the talking and I actually didn't mind his ass-kissing ability during those trips to the office. This Monday, however, my consequences would be much more serious than I had been prepared for. You might even say they were dire. 

"You know, K.C," snapped Chris as I buttoned my coat and adjusted my bow tie, "I haven't forgotten about your most recent failure to be a legitimate brother." The tone of his voice let me know that he was trying his hardest to make me feel guilty. Even after I had woken up an entire fifteen minutes before we were supposed to leave for homeroom, he had the nerve to call me out for something that I had no control over. 

"Look, young Christopher," I started calmly, "I already explained this to you. That rock shouldn't have been on that trail. Whoever put it there was being terribly irresponsible when they made that decision."

"You're one to talk about others' irresponsible decisions?"

"Yes."

"Well I don't care who put it there, K.C." whined Chris, shaking his sad little head back and forth, "The point is you made me lose my one chance to meet Mr. P." 

I saw my brother cross his arms and avert his gaze from me in the bathroom mirror. It was always funny when he came in to bother me while I was priming and primping. Although he and our parents would tell you that we looked the same, my physical superiority was on full display when we were standing side by side. It wasn't just the hair and the bow tie, it was my aura: my awesome, half-pink, half-orange aura...my Swag Bubble if you were searching for a technical term. I gracefully exited the bathroom and grabbed my backpack off of my bunk, all the while trying to make sure that Chris's dingy blue-grey aura didn't touch mine. It was only after a two minute stare-down that I gave in to the Silent Treatment and responded to my brother's less-than-awesome remarks.

"I'm sorry, man," I began quietly, "But you really shouldn't be taking that girl so seriously. Not only did she lead you on like Princess Bubblegum led Finn on, but she busted your chops twice as hard with the friend-zone card. Besides, you'll have tons of other chances to meet her pops. Just don't be so hard on yourself, okay?" The dark half-circles under my brother's eyes were more than enough to let me know that nothing I had said had made him any less angry at me. My trump card had failed. 

"Whatever, K.C." he moaned, "At least I actually went ahead and made a move. Everyone knows you've got a thing for Abby Gabardine. It's starting to become pretty obvious." My entire face began to feel hot and my mouth grew dry. How could it have been obvious? I'd only held a full conversation with her once. Chris gave a sly grin after observing the nervous tug I had given my bow tie. "Don't play dumb," he continued, "It's starting to get a little bit old. Now let's get out of here before I decide to stir the gossip pot a little bit." 

As much as I hate to admit it, that dude got me pretty good right then. Even though he lost some serious man points by using the phrase, "stir the gossip pot", he'd used it effectively. I didn't know most of them and didn't care to know them, but I still cared what the other students thought of me, now more than ever before. Punching my brother right then might have made me feel like we were even, but having Abby find out something that might not have even been true about me was not a risk I was willing to take. Instead, I would have to listen to Chris's snarky remarks all the way to homeroom and possibly for a long, long time after that. It wasn't until the end of lunch hour that I had received a much-needed break from the torment. I guess I'd call it the eye of the storm. 

---

Yams. That's what those gloppy, brown, masses the cafeteria served on Mystery Meat Mondays were called. I called them fecal matter. Even as I pen this, I cannot begin to fathom how actual human beings, from pretty privileged backgrounds at that, could fill their faceholes with something so...inedible. Even more astounding to me was that my brother and his "friends" were among them. Lunch hour at Brimmley was always odd to me and not just because of the food that wasn't actually food. The hardest part about being a wild tiger in the woods is that tigers don't hunt in packs, so instead of hanging with my very own posse of ballers, I was stuck with (you guessed it) Chris and Jamie. 

Despite what my narrative bias might suggest, Chris was actually pretty well-liked at Brimmley. I like to think of that academy as a fish bowl, full of invasive algae and other things that would never been found in a well-maintained aquatic display. I was a piece of loose seaweed, floating on the surface and trying my best not to be sucked into the filter's deathly grasp. Chris was a clownfish, ready to jump into whatever anemone showed itself first. He was also the guy who everyone knew they could mess with, kind of like the dad in that one pixar movie with the Australian dentist. I would say that Jamie was his chosen anemone, but I've always seen her as more of a Kraken. Let's face it, she's nasty. Besides, she was giving him the cold shoulder and I hate to admit that she had good reason. I was just happy as long as that ink of hers didn't get spewed onto my squeaky-clean aura. My decision not to join Chris in the many extracurriculars Jamie was involved in was probably the best one I'd ever made at Brimmley. It only made sense that this decision would have to be made at the minuscule price of Chris becoming vastly more popular than me. The others among our little group of lunchtime sea creatures were a barracuda and a pufferfish. Why? Because that's what they looked like. I am not kidding. They were Rex Johnson and his longtime main squeeze, Brenda Bittencourt. Just about the only thing harder for me to sit through than Chris and Jamie's presumably now-retired Friday ritual was these two. Everything about them was irritating and when they were together, the lunch table was war zone, I being the only refugee looking for a place to hide. 

"Nice yammy-yams, sugar!" yelled Brenda, "I love the way you eat!"

"Oh, stop it!" cried Rex, not that he actually wanted her to stop, "I love the way you eat!" 

The entire cafeteria seemed to be ablaze with their incessant cackling and watching Brenda and Rex literally eat those shit-yams from the palms of each other's hands was starting to make me sick. Chris's irritated expression and Jamie's unusually quiet demeanor were the only things that made me want to stay at that table...along with the fact that I didn't want him to say anything about me and Abby to these creatures. By the time the bell had rang for sixth period, Brenda and Rex had covered each other almost completely in the toxic substance that was the Monday yams. Just like every other day at lunch, all I could do was shake my head. The sense of relief when they had finally taken their trays to the dirty pile and exited the cafeteria was nothing short of overwhelming. Before I could even gag, that feeling was replaced by a frigid awkwardness as Jamie and Chris exchanged gazes for the first time since we had sat down to "eat." I let out a few nervous chuckles before getting up to excuse myself from this cesspool of a lunch table. Chris's expression told me that doing so would have been a terrible mistake. 

"So," began Jamie coldly, "I guess I'll see you in French, Christopher." Without another word, the cherry-smelling nightmare stood up, pushed in her chair, and power-walked through the large double doors and into the hallway. I'd seen my brother cry many times, but never like that. It wasn't the loud, boisterous kind of crying we associate with babies and Republican congressmen. It was the silent kind of crying that you can't hear with your ears, but that your heart hears loud and clear. Before I could reach out to put my hand on his shoulder, Chris stood up from his seat and made a full sprint out of the cafeteria. All I could do was hope that he hadn't tried to catch up to her.

As I sat there all alone in the abandoned lunchroom, only the even ticking of the broken wall clock kept me company. It didn't matter that I was skipping sixth period; I did that every day to let my food digest. Even so, I still felt something that I was only beginning to get used to. I felt guilt. Not only was I guilty about skipping class, but I couldn't help but feel that the pain Chris was enduring at the hands of his love for Jamie, no matter how well-deserved it may have been, was somehow my fault. Maybe I shouldn't have tripped on that rock and maybe I should have spent Drop Day with him instead of skipping stones at the pond. Either way, the past was in the past. Nothing I could say or do could change it. Just as I began to stand up from my chair, I turned to find a startling sight behind me. There stood Abby, twiddling her thumbs, a wide, beaming smile upon her face. It was just like I had imagined: she was even more beautiful the second time. 

"H-Hiya, K.C." she mumbled nervously, "That was your name, right?" Her green eyes grew big and her freckled cheeks began to turn red. I licked my lips and pulled at my shirt collar before returning her salutations. 

"Y-Yep." I stuttered, my voice cracking in the middle of the word, "That's me." The red-haired girl let out a few nervous chuckles as she pulled out the chair next to me and took a seat. I almost wanted to congratulate her on having made it into a sitting position without stumbling. I wiped my dampened palms off on my khaki jeans and cleared my throat hard. 

"You're Abigail," I continued meekly, "Abigail Christine Beatrice Gabardine." Abby's head jerked back in nervous astonishment and she nearly fell out of her chair. I couldn't help but smile upon seeing her straighten herself back up and adjust her circle-rim glasses. 

"That's me alright," she chuckled, "But please just call me Abby." I bit my lower lip in frustration at having not met her preference. Just as I was ready to issue her a series scattered apology, Abby reached out and placed a small, delicate soft hand on top of my shoulder. "It's okay, bud," she smiled warmly, "Just keep it simple...like fractions." I had to fight with every bit of my sanity to keep my jaw from dropping. This was the first time any girl had mentioned something school-related and made me want to ask about it. I sat up straight and took a deep breath before bursting into a fit of feigned curiosity. 

"Fractions!" I beamed, "I remember fractions. They're like numbers, but small. They go on the top or the bottom of other numbers." Abby pressed her hand to her mouth to keep from laughing, but it was no use. The girl nearly fell out of her chair a second time and her face became completely red. 

"That was so funny!" she laughed, "That's not what fractions are. You're thinking of subscripts and exponents." All I could do was nod. I really didn't want her to stop laughing but I also didn't want to pretend that I knew what those terms she had just used meant. Once she had fully recovered from her bout of laughter, the familiar feeling of guilt had welled up within me and my palms began to sweat even more than they had been. I looked down at the table top in a futile attempt to keep from being seen without a smile on.

"What's the matter?" she inquired, gazing intently at me with those lovely green pools of wonder, "Nervous about our skit?" 

"No." I replied in a hushed tone that sounded more like the way Chris would speak than myself, "Let's just say I let somebody down." When I looked up at Abby again, I noticed that she was laughing. 

"Don't be silly, K.C," she teased, "I let people down all the time." 

"Do you really?"

"Yes, I do. As a matter of fact, I've let the whole school down." 

"How?" I inquired, dejected.

"Well, let me see." she began in a lighthearted tone that I knew only she could speak in, "I've been kicked off of the swim team, the soccer team, the badminton team, the golf team, and the volleyball team, so I'd say I've let down a lot of people." I nearly shook my head in pleasant disbelief that this girl was so relaxed when talking about her failures. Abby's smile hadn't disappeared as she said these things and I couldn't help but smile right back. Here was a girl who was sure that she'd failed to meet the expectations of others on many occasions and and hadn't let it stop her from having her fun. She wasn't the most popular girl at Brimmley either. Even so, I could not stop my heart from beating at a breakneck pace and I'm not even sure I wanted to. I cleared my throat and sat up straight in my chair before responding.

"How do you do it?" I asked quietly. 

"How do I do what?"

"How do you continue to smile like that even after failing so many times? The girl smiled at me once again and brushed a strand of red-orange hair from between her eyes. 

"I just know how to reach my spark."

"Your what?"

"My spark!" she repeated, beaming with beautiful enthusiasm, "It's that little thing inside of me that always shocks me when I feel like I can't do something. First it's just an idea, but then it grows and grows until I can't contain it anymore. Before I know it I'm back on my feet, ready to tackle whatever life throws at me. 

"That's deep, Abby." I replied nervously, not knowing what else to say in my love-stricken daze. 

"As a hole to China." 

"How do I find my spark?" I inquired, eagerly anticipating her response. 

"Well," she began in that same wonderful tone, "I'm not quite sure. That's something you've got to figure out for yourself...but I sure hope you find it soon so we can get to work on this skit." 

"Oh, don't worry," I laughed, "I don't think it'll be that hard to find." 

To Be Continued.