Chasing Imagination

Casper

Amy looked in both directions down the long corridor to check that there was no one around.

‘Why don’t you like Imogen and Matt?’ she asked. The simple fact that she’d started off a conversation like this with me was surprise in itself, so it took a moment to process what she was saying.

‘I like Imogen; she’s great,’ I said, trying to dodge round the question and failing miserably.

Amy sighed. ‘Ok, why don’t you like Matt then?’

I pulled a face, checking just like she had done that he wasn’t around.

‘Matt’s the golden kid,’ I said. ‘He’s a couple of years older than me, but we didn’t join all that far apart. I guess it’s just jealousy really—at first, Markus loved me, but he then turned to favouring Matt instead. He’s that guy; every girl wants to be with him, and every boy wants to be him.’

‘Oh,’ Amy’s response was a long, gently blown-out breath. ‘Like the clever ones at school?’

‘If he was just clever I wouldn’t mind,’ I said a little indignantly. ‘But he’s clever, athletic, confident, good-looking, popular—everything that anyone wants to be.’

‘Don’t take it out on yourself,’ Amy said. ‘It’s nothing you’ve done wrong.’ She tilted her head, studying me, and a seldom-seen smile cracked across her face. ‘And for the record, I think you’re better looking than he is.’

She looked to the ground, playing with her fingers, suddenly too embarrassed to meet my gaze. Was that what she really thought? Pretty Amy with the dark blonde curls and dark eyes and cute smile—she actually thought that I; thin, barely average height Casper, with my thick, layered, dyed black hair, was good looking? Even against perfect, movie star Matt? No way.

I was tempted to ask again, just to make sure I hadn’t been dreaming, but I didn’t dare push it. She looked away awkwardly, so I changed the conversation a little for her sake.

‘Well,’ I said, ‘he can’t be the only one in the world, but it’s because we started off as such good friends. And then, first Markus chose him, and then Imogen chose him.’

Amy looked at me with new light in her eyes, and I found I was strangely enjoying this chat. Whatever people said about boys not being interested in gossip and bitching was completely wrong.

‘So, you like Imogen?’ she asked, narrowing her eyes and smiling. This was like a new side to my quiet, stubborn, serious Amy. The ice had finally broken between us, and we were now swimming in the deep. We had finally moved on from being awkward strangers, and in such a short space of time. Maybe she didn’t even dislike me anymore. Or maybe I was getting too far ahead of myself.

‘Not anymore,’ I said truthfully. ‘We joined two and a half years ago; she came about six months after us. We both liked her, but I noticed after a while the way she looked at Matt. It was undeniable, but I didn’t want to destroy their chances at happiness. It’s something so hard to find down here.’

‘And they’ve been together ever since.’ It was not a question.

‘Yeah,’ I agreed, averting my eyes.

‘And what about you?’ Amy’s voice softened even further, until it was scarcely a whisper. We stayed out in the corridor, growing briefly silent as someone hurried past. ‘Have you found anyone? Have you found this happiness that is so hard to find?’

I slowly, deliberately, shook my head. ‘No,’ I whispered. ‘Not me.’

‘Never?’ she prompted.

‘Not really,’ I repeated. ‘I have friends down here, but there was never anyone beside Imogen that I liked in that way. And I’m long since over her; there’s no changing her mind, and there’s no use in chasing a lost cause.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Amy murmured.

‘You don’t need to be sorry,’ I said abruptly. ‘Not everyone’s as lucky as Matt.’

We fell silent, entering into a deep contemplation, until finally Amy began walking again. I followed her, for no reason other than I discovered I enjoyed being with her, that was, when she wasn’t being resentful and hostile.

Amy stopped outside her room, peering in to reveal that Linzy was not currently there. Cautiously, as though she was doing something wrong, she gestured for me to follow her.

‘Tell me Casper,’ she said. ‘Last night, Wolfie wrote something on the wall in graffiti. He wrote ‘this is war.’’

‘I know,’ I said, giving nothing away.

‘So?’ she persisted. ‘What does that mean?’ I felt she was getting at something.

‘We ain’t starting a war,’ I muttered.

She looked perplexed. ‘What?’ she whispered. ‘I thought that was what the Dreamers were about? Starting a war, putting an end to everything that goes on in this world.’

‘Not in our lifetimes,’ I said. ‘Well, not in the next couple of decades anyway. These things aren’t achieved easily.’

Amy opened her mouth, then shut it, then opened it again, looking like she couldn’t come up with the right words.

‘I don’t know a lot—you said yourself that there’s still so much I need to learn about this world. But I’m guessing there are some horrible parts, or you wouldn’t all feel so strongly about these things. So what are you waiting for?’

I frowned, both uncertain and scared about what she could be getting at.

‘Are you just going to spend your entire life down here?’ she demanded. ‘Just sit and...wait? I don’t know! I wouldn’t if it were me.’

I stood up sharply. ‘You don’t know anything.’

I marched out of the room coldly, my head held high. She began to call after me, but perhaps the reason her words stung me so much was because I knew they were true. And yet, there really was nothing we could do.

Amy

I called after Casper, but he did not answer me or come back, so eventually I relented. I had barely picked up my book, however, when Linzy walked in.

‘You alright?’ she asked cheerfully when she saw my hard face.

‘I’m fine,’ I muttered. Inside, I was quietly fuming—I simply didn’t understand it. The Dreamers could graffiti and vandalise and protest and even bomb, but what would that achieve? Unless the effects were truly devastating; unless they came out of the underground and into the open, they would get nowhere, and we would be stuck here in these cold, dim tunnels for the rest of our lives.