Green Eyes

Nye Watson fumbled for the alarm clock as its insistent beeping rose to a screeching wail. Grabbing some clothes and a towel, he stumbled into the hotel’s bathroom, hitting his head on the cabinet, effectively waking him up. After fiddling with the knobs in the shower, he remembered something important and snuck out to borrow his parent’s shampoo. Normally he wouldn’t wake this early, but there were things to do and people to see. People to see, indeed. He hadn’t had any contact with Cosima for ages; they lived in different cities after all!

Standing under the shower, with the warm water splattering on his back, Nye recalled a dream he had the previous night. Truth be told, it was more of a flashback. When he was younger, a strange gangly girl had rushed onto the road to save him...

“Nye, stop!” the runny-nosed toddler shouted as Nye raced on ahead. He turned, grinning at her. Hearing a loud squeal, Nye realized a swerving car was headed directly towards him, sunlight glinting off the red paint.

Wham! Suddenly something slammed into him, shoving him to the other side of the road. He rolled over, grazing his hands and knees on the pavement. Nye shakily got up, and was faced with a worried Cosima.

“Nye! Are you alright? The girl…she…” Cosima indicated behind her to a figure sprawled on the road. Nye’s mother turned her away and began to assess the damage to Nye’s scrapes. Cosima’s mother was rapidly talking into a phone, and a large crowd had gathered around the fallen body.

Not understanding what all the fuss was about, but realizing it must be something dreadful, Cosima followed the passerby’s and burst into tears. Nye put a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, she had brown eyes, not green, so it’s okay,” he said sincerely remembering the flash of hazel he had glimpsed before being thrown to the ground.

Sirens built up behind them, heads turned as an ambulance rounded the corner. When they turned back, however, the body was gone and all that was left were memories and a pool of blood.

…yes, he owed his life to her. Who was that mysterious girl, and what did she think she was doing, saving a complete stranger like that? Where had her body disappeared to? Although his memories were hazy, there was some familiarity about her. In his nightmares, the fallen youth would have the face of Cosima, although he was never sure why. Nye never mentioned this to anyone; he would never live down the taunts of his peers if they knew he was dreaming about a girl. They would doubtlessly warp his words into the most sickening of ways.

Not just any girl, he reprimanded himself. Cosima Peterson. Yes, she was certainly a little odd, but not in a bad way. Nye remembered her as being a bright and talkative friend, always laughing, and always telling rude jokes (when the adults weren’t around). Sure, she was a little shy at first, but making her shut up was more of the problem once you got her talking. But he still listened to every word, never growing tired of her incessant rambling. Although they had different accents and the occasional problem understanding each other (“What?”-“Pardon?”-“What?”-“Pardon?”), the pair got along as though they’d known each other their entire lives, which they in fact had.

Bloody hell! Someone in the other room had flushed the toilet! The water was now searing hot, burning his flesh. With a startled shout, Nye yanked at the taps to ease his suffering.

Stepping out of the shower onto the fluffy white bathmat, Nye put on his favorite yellow shirt and beige pants, brushed his teeth and went out. 7:30. He sighed, being sure that the clock must be broken. There was nothing to do. No new text messages, no new emails. If he had Cosima’s contact information computers would have been a lot more entertaining.

Unplugging his iPod from its speakers, he inserted the headphones in his ears. He would die if people knew what music he listened to in private. But he only really enjoyed songs with meaningful lyrics…words he could connect to. Jeez, now he was sounding just like her sometimes! Her influence always lingered in his mind, like a sweet aftertaste.

…That I love you
I have loved you all along
And I miss you
Been far away for far too long
I keep dreaming you'll be with me
and you'll never go
Stop breathing if
I don't see you anymore

So far away
Been far away for far too long
So far away
Been far away for far too long
But you know, you know, you know…

7:35. Why did time have to go so slowly? Nye turned his gaze the calendar. Ah, it was Cosima’s fifteenth birthday today too. He had only been told once, after eavesdropping in on a causal conversation (somehow her name caught his interest) and the information had seemed to him as important. And he would be seeing her again in just a few hours!

What was she doing now, he wondered. Did she still remember him after all this time? Was she still the same Cosima he knew back then?

“Nye sweetie, we’re going down to breakfast!” his mother called. Nye grabbed his shoes and followed his parents out of the room, beings sure to turn over the DO NOT DISTUTRB sign on the handle.

“That’s disgusting!” his mother remarked as Nye returned from the buffet with a bowl of cereal. “Don’t encourage him, dear!” she chastised her husband as he sat down with an equally large, if not larger, portion. “Honestly, I’m glad this is all-you-can-eat, or we'd be broke by now!" Both males ignored her and reached for the sugar.

Cosima’s school didn’t have Easter holidays, Nye remembered, but his family had decided to stop by and visit them while they were vacationing. He had read something in the paper about a group of students being expelled for drug usage. But not Cosima. She wasn’t stupid like some other girls he could mention. It seemed like they only did it to fill a hole in themselves…as though pining for someone or something. Like an escape for those who didn’t want reality.

Not that his childhood friend hadn't had problems of her own. Her father had mysteriously died when his wife was pregnant with Yolanda. He'd gone downstairs to sign for a package and died of a phenomenon commonly known as Spontaneous Human Combustion. The delivery boy said he had suddenly caught fire, keeled over, and died just like that. Paramedics were baffled.

After breakfast, Nye wandered around the hotel, old flip-flops flapping on his feet. He was bored. His mother had gone to use up her massage coupon at the spa on the first floor, and his father had rushed to the bathroom due to "suspicious bowel movements", probably from eating cereal with his sugar every morning. Nye resolved to stay clear of the room until housekeeping had visited.

Not having anything else to do, Nye walked down to the Children's Club, also known as the place parents dumped their kids when they wanted some time to themselves. It was embarrassing, really. Here he was, a boy of sixteen, watching the adventures of Elmo with kids half his age. He didn't even have a younger sibling to annoy.

The rest of the day passed in a monotony. Nye had played every game on his PSP, listened to every song on his iPod twice, gone swimming, shot some baskets, and was pretty darned sick of Elmo's World. It was a relief when his mother came to collect him.

"Nye, it's time to go! You've just got time to run up and put some proper shoes on, she glanced distastefully at his footwear, "and grab that parcel from the safe. I bought Cosima a necklace for her birthday. Can you make sure she gets it?" Without waiting for his answer, she smiled at him and headed towards the car.

Nye stretched his aching limbs, as sitting in a car for fourteen hours to get from city to city had frozen his muscles in place had not exactly been loosed up by some mild exercise that morning.

"You're going to get square eyes if you stare at the screen all day," remarked his father, raising an eyebrow at the electronic device in his son's hands.

"And you're going to get diarrhoea if you eat too much sugar all day," was the instantaneous retort.

Funny how adults are always open for a good debate until they start to lose. "Don't get smart with me, young man!"

Said young man rolled his eyes in a rather teenager-esque manner, turning back to his game and trying to ignore the car's wet-dog smell.

When they finally rolled up the driveway to Cosima's house at 4:21pm (Yes, he had been counting. So what?), Nye unlocked the door and stepped out. A short pink blur raced towards him and leaped on his back.

"Nye, Nye!" yelled Yolanda childishly, letting go only to grab him in a huge bear hug, "It's so good to see you!" Cosima's little sister was as over affectionate as ever. It was a good thing she let go to hug the rest of his family or his lungs might not have held out. For a small girl, Yolanda certainly had a strong grip.

Mrs. Peterson walked out to greet them, all smiles and embraces. "Come on Cosima, don't be shy!" she called to someone in the doorway.

"Coming Mom, and I’m not being shy!" Nye was standing too far away to see her properly, let alone notice the small blush that covered her cheeks.

"Hi, Cosima!" he shouted to the shadowed figure, waving at her.

"Hey!" she responded, stepping out of the house and into the sunlight.