Are You Scared Yet?

One day, she was angered.

One day, she was hurt.

One day, she was gone.

I’ve been curious about her, not only of her type, but more and more of her in general. The day of her absence, all I could think about is why she was not here, why she was injured, and why she was irritated. Why couldn’t she just be pleasant to everyone? She has looks, she has charm, and she could fit right in.

Why would she rather stick her head in a book than in a good conversation with some friends? Better yet, why didn’t she have any friends?

Not only do I want my inquiries answered, but I want her to be content. Therefore, to assist her and myself, I am aiming towards forcing her to get new friends, and with any luck get closer to her along the way. Father will have to wait for the mission to be completed—that being to find my heroine of course, the only reason why I am here—for me to come home.

Today, Marie was here, and most of her wounds healed. The thought of it made me sigh in relieve. I approached her as she got out of the vehicle and rested my elbow on her should, walking side by side. She glared at me with what looked like a combination of shock, anger, and confusion.

“Hey, hey, Ma—Kingsmen. How’s it going?” I tried to sound loose and calm like most of the guys who attend this school. Maybe she’ll be more comfortable with me if I acted less formal.

She used her book to shoo away my elbow and replied, “Fine.” harshly, but then stopped and looked like she recalled a previous thought. “Sorry, well, no I’m not b—you can call me Ma—no, no…” She wandered off, not only in thought, but into the maze of halls without me.

I brushed my hair with my fingers out of my face and muttered, “Well that worked out brilliantly.” What did I do wrong? Maybe she doesn’t like the tranquil, average guy tone. Why am I changing myself for a gi—no, quit thinking that. You know why you’re acting this way.

After conversing with a couple of my friends that I had met during Marie’s absence, I eventually went to my history class and sat down right at my permanent seat with Marie. If the chill guy didn’t work, maybe the intelligent guy will.

“Hello, Ma”—ugh! I keep failing to remember!—“Err, Mrs. Kingsmen. I see you’re reading a biography book on Stephen Austin, eh? From US Representative to senator of the brand new Texas, quite interesting of how it all worked out if you ask me.”

She looked up at me, away from her book. “I was told we were going to be doing a report soon, so I’ve got a head start on it.” She glanced back down at her book. “And that’s Sam Houston you’re talking about, not Stephen.” Marie flipped the page and sighed heavily.

My eyes widened as I realized she was right. I knew that of course, that’s basic American knowledge! How did I forget?! It must’ve slipped my mind, I mean, it’s both about Texas. I…I… “Oh, of course, pardon. I knew that, it’s just—”

“Alright class, let’s discuss a big assignment that’ll effect much of what you’ll see on your mid-term this quarter. It’ll be a book report on…” I tuned Mr. Olivers out, and thought to myself. So she was right, but that doesn’t matter. Mr. Chill didn’t work, and Mr. Intelligent went downhill by a slur of thoughts. Maybe Mr. Cool?

After I find out which kind of guy she finds most intriguing, I’ll lewer her into making some new friends.

What if she doesn’t have a certain taste? No, all girls do. But then again, what if she is over me by the time I find out?

Girls are so complicated.