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    AleMaho
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

All I Ever Wanted - 7. Chapter 7

Here is Chapter 7 of All I Ever Wanted

It started to rain. I was sitting on the bed while Christopher lay down on his couch, back to me. We were like that for a while.

I was afraid of saying something. I didn’t want to hurt him anymore.

I felt bad because I should’ve known better. If Christopher never talked about his mother, then that should’ve meant something. But I was stupid and had asked about it anyway.

I stood up and walked toward the door.

“Where are you going?”

I turned around and noticed he was already standing up.

“I’m sorry. I thought you were asleep,”

“Where were you going?” he asked again.

“I was just heading out,”

“Why?” he asked immediately and I sensed a bit of anxiety in his voice.

“I thought you’d like a bit of privacy. Christopher, is something wrong?”

“What? No!”

“Listen, it wasn’t my intention…”

“Jo, I’m fine!”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you…”

“Jo, Stop!” he said and then burst into laughter. “I’m fine,”

He gave me a smile but I was still a skeptical about it.

“Are you sure?”

“I am,” he said. “And you don’t have to go,”

“Actually, it’s getting kind of late. I should head home,”

“Wait!”

He grabbed his cell phone and checked the screen.

“Dad’s got a business dinner today. He’ll probably be back late. And I don’t want to have dinner alone. Would you stay?”

“Alone? What about Kevin?” I said completely ignoring his offering.

He remained silent and lowered his look toward the floor.

“He’s, uhh…”he laughed weakly but then his tone got serious. “He’s at her house,”

If I could disappear from the Earth by just blinking I would have closed my eyes and never opened them again. I had just screwed up twice in the same day.

“Oh man! I’m so sorry,”

“No, no. Don’t worry,” he said reassuringly. “It’s fine. She still has rights over us. But she knows I’m way too old now. And that she can’t force me too.
And Kevin, well he still ignores much of what really happened,”

He smiled at me but I just couldn’t return it. I felt so ashamed of myself.

We ended up ordering pizza. I still felt bad about my inappropriate questions, but Christopher reassured me that he was fine.

“You should take that,” I said as I watched how he continued to ignore his ringing cell phone. “That’s the third one in a row. It must be important!”

“It is not,” he said.

“How do you know?”

He furiously stood up from the table and grabbed a clean glass from the kitchen. He poured some water on it and drank it slowly. Meanwhile, I watched his every move while finishing the last piece of pizza on my plate.

“I quit the football team,” he said putting the empty glass on the table and sitting down.

“Why?”

“I lost interest,” he said. “Right now, there are other things preoccupying my mind,”

“Ok? And how are you taking the change?”

“I’m taking it great!”

“Yeah?”

“It’s just that,” he said before pausing for a second. “I would’ve told you before. But I was afraid of your reaction,”

“My reaction?”

“Yes. I was afraid you’d react like them,”

“Them?” I repeated at his lack of details.

“Everyone’s not cool with it, starting with my dad. And then the coach. And then the guys…”

“The other team members?”

“Yes! They’ve been trying to make me change my decision,”

“So that’s why Derek’s been calling you,”

“He has this persistence. And it’s just pissing me off,” he said almost in a shout.

“For what it’s worth, I totally respect your decision. You know how much I love football!”

He laughed and eased a bit.

“Thanks,”

He served himself another piece of pizza.

“You mentioned your dad. What does he says about it?”

He swallowed before answering.

“I know I’m still missing a long way, but my dad is already thinking about college education. And so am I.
We had a plan. I might not be the best player, but I could be good enough to earn a football scholarship into college. Because I’ve quit, that seems next to impossible now,”

“I see. Well, don’t worry about it. He’ll come around eventually,”

“Hopefully,” he sighed.

“But,”

“But?”

“Are you sure?” I asked cautiously. “I mean, I’m not trying to change your mind. It’s just that, if the scholarship was your plan for college, I mean, do you have a back up plan?”

He smiled and pushed his leftovers as a sign of being full.

“Let me show you,”

We went back to his bedroom. There was a big closet with five drawers. Christopher knelt down and opened the last one.

There were so many things inside: notebooks, folders, separate sheet of papers, videogames, cd’s…

He grabbed a notebook and dusted it off.

“Pardon me,” he said a bit embarrassed. “It’s been a while since I took this one out,”

He offered me the notebook. I eagerly took it and sat on the bed while he remained on his knees searching for something else on the drawer.

The first drawing in the notebook was a house in the beach. It was just drawn in pencil and shadowed accordingly. I turned the page and found a roaring lion standing on a rock peak. The same style of the previous drawing was used in that one as well.

In the next thirty pages, or so, I discovered yet a new thing about Christopher. He liked to draw. And he was really good at it.

His drawings were random and so diverse. You could find animals, drawings about people, monuments like the Eiffel tower, maps of geography…

I stopped at the last one of the bunch. It caught my attention because it wasn’t finished. In fact, it was just a circle with lines traced under it, in the middle of it, and some above it. Blurs and scratches were all over it.

“Oh that one!” said Christopher grabbing the notebook out of my hands. He instantly closed it. “I started it a long time ago. I never managed to finish it,”

“Well, whatever it is supposed to be, I bet it will look great. They all look great!

“Thanks,” he said.

“So, what’s that you got there?” I asked pointing at the folder he was holding.

“This,” he said shaking it, “And what you just saw are my back-up plan. I plan to apply to the NCA for another scholarship,”

“To the artistic academy? Christopher that’s great!”

“I know. The minimum age to start applying is seventeen, so I still need to wait for February,”

“Wow. Well, I’m pretty sure you’ll get accepted. Your work is great,” I said cheerfully.
I was so happy for him. “And by the way what’s in the folder?”

“My lyrics,” he said smiling.

“You write songs? You are a songwriter too?”

“I guess that’s how they call them,” he said mocking me.

“Shut up, and hand them to me!” I demanded.

Time seemed to stop as I went through every page reading Christopher’s lyrics.

Every time I read out loud a cheesy part of one of the songs, he would laugh and explain why he had wrote it or what it meant.

It felt great. I was getting to know another side of him. And it only made me fall for him even harder. Out in public, he was this shy guy, but now I knew better. He was confident and sensible and such an amazing person. And that’s why I loved him.

When I realized it was past nine, I immediately told Christopher I had to head home.

“I realized I have yet to say this,”

“Say what Christopher?”

“Thank you,” he said with his ever-present smile.

“What for exactly?” I asked a bit confused.

“For today. For listening to me. At the very least, for just being there,”

“You don’t have to thank me. That’s what friends are for!”

“Again, thanks,” he chuckled.

“Well, it’s getting cold out here. I should go,”

“Good night, Jo,” he said looking at me.

“Good night, Christopher,”

I turned around and walked a few steps before hearing the closing of the gate.

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Copyright © 2011 AleMaho; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Gah!!! Still no confesstion. A nice chapter though. So Christopher is an artist and lyricist. Interesting.

 

 

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