Love in a Mist
Love in a Mist is also in the Buttercup family but is not yellow and there is no confusion about the flower possibly smelling like butter. People love to make up that story about the Buttercup. Love in a Mist is actually a strange looking flower, which may explain why another name for it, although not as inspirational for a poem, is Devil in the Bush. At least both names conjure up striking images.
Personally, I think that the flower does not look like mist at all. Sure, the thin, wispy stems and leaves sure look confusing, but that doesn’t make it seem like mist. The flowers are all pale and the actual flower is only found in deserted, damp areas. The flower isn’t lovely, it’s lonely. Those are not even close to the same thing. Surely those people who name flowers can figure that much out themselves. I think that Love in a Mist is such a cheesy name. It’s a flower. It is not a book. It does not need such a name.
If someone were to give me that flower, I would be offended. I knew for sure that no girl who ever had a long-lasting relationship would never get such a flower from him. I would be lucky to even receive anything. But some girls like to be incredibly picky and they can somehow get away with it.
Yet, I suppose Love in a Mist describes some facets of love quite nicely. There is always that part of a relationship in which everything seems too perfect and so nothing gets said to the other person, for neither wants to offend the other. It’s at this time that the couple looks disgustingly cute. I sometimes like seeing very cute couples. Sometimes it gives me great hope that such things truly exist in the world. Other times, I only get jealous of them and know that I will never get something like that with anyone.
There was this girl I knew back in elementary school. She was someone that seemed to always be falling in love and going on dates with every guy out there. It was strange to me. She was in elementary school. People shouldn’t be dating each other any younger than the age of sixteen, in my opinion.
Anyhow, what happened then is a moot point. Because, as luck would have it, she ended up being in many of my classes the first semester in college. I hadn’t even known that she had applied there. So, when I saw her and she ran towards me, thrilled to see me, I was surprised on so many levels. First of all, she and I were not great friends. I did not know why she would be happy to see me when we had said only a few words to each other the entire time we had known of each other. Secondly, she and I ran in circles that were not only different, but had no chance of running into each other. We had seen each other sometimes across hallways and in the same testing locations, but never at all outside of that. Thirdly, when I went to that weird party at the lake house, she was one of the girls who was not at all please to see me there, in her domain. Fourth, she had not liked me ever since we had a fight a few years back.
The fight, which I suspect is still a sore spot with her to this day, was over a guy. She liked this guy and I didn’t like her. I was close to the guy. She knew that. So she asked me to help her get the guy to like her and when I asked him if he liked her, I discovered that he liked me and not her. When I found this out, I was shocked and told her, which resulted in her despising me forever. “I hate you,” she screamed.
So, I ran into her yesterday and saw that she was with that same guy. I thought I had chosen carefully a school that none of my high school schoolmates would have chosen. Apparently I need to try much harder when I choose places to learn at. But that’s another story for another day. So, when I saw her and her what I assumed to be boyfriend, I was stunned that they had found each other at last. They did look cute together. That much was undeniable and could not be argued. It was a fact. I wished it wasn’t.
They were holding onto each other’s hands in that annoying way in which the fingers are intertwined and the wrists are bent in an uncomfortable looking manner. It only looks annoying but feels wonderful when it’s being done. I think it feels great and sends a wonderful tingly feeling all inside.
When I looked at them standing there, he was staring into her eyes as intently as she was staring into hers, which was actually sweet. I had thought they wouldn’t work together. She was the girl who wanted everyone to like her and only wanted to be with the most popular. He was the sweet guy who had a knack for making everyone feel wonderful while talking to him. She had to get perfect grades and studied for everything as though her life depended on it. He went with the wind. They should not have worked together or fallen for each other. Yet, they did, and they looked really happy with each other.
I was reminded of seeing Ricky with that girl at the grocery store. She and he should not have been together, but they were anyway. When I actually got the chance to talk to him about it, things sure went very strangely. It was four days after the incident, two hours after I had last analyzed it deeply.
I went over to the field and thought I could find him over there. As I had anticipated, he was there, laying on a pillow and a blanket underneath him. I wondered if he had known that I was going to be there to pick a fight with him about the girl. I wondered if he had always done stupid things like this, bringing along blankets and pillows to fields just so that he would be comfortable if he fell asleep there.
When I approached near him, I debated what exactly I should do to him. I wanted to scream at him and go insane. I had no room to avoid anything that could be even potentially shameful. There was nothing that I couldn’t do. I would go to every extent I could to get back at him. He deserved it.
“So, what’s new with you?” I asked him at a fairly normal voice level as I sat down, legs bent in front of me and arms grasping my legs. My hands were clasped together. The breeze was ruining my desire to keep my hands still. I wanted to fix my hair as it flew in front of my eyes, but I was trying to keep still as to appear in a position of power. Of course, this was not what I had, but it was really comforting to think that I had one. He looked at me and I just stared straight ahead. I didn’t want to look at him, even though it felt rude. Although, I guess it makes a bigger statement if I appear rude.
“Her name is Cheryl Allen. She’s not bad, despite what you think about her.”
“That didn’t answer my question. I’ll ask it again. What’s new with you?”
“I found out that I completed my project too quickly. Cheryl got a large donation from some company and apparently that’s ‘not a good thing,’ and so now we have to repeat the entire project.”
I had suspected that she could get the money easily but I had neglected to consider how quickly she could get herself the money. Apparently her connections were better than I’d thought. “That cannot be any fun at all. So are you just trying again with the same idea or do you have to choose a completely new idea and project overall? Oh, and, how did the bake sale end up going, anyway?”
“We just have to prove that the bake sale, which didn’t do well, by the way, would work to raise enough money for our cause. And just so you don’t end up telling me later how I must’ve lied about the extra assignment, the project was to prove a concept, not truly to have to raise money.”
At least one question I was going to fire at me was answered. “So what charity was it for?”
“One of those ones about the environment and protecting it. There are too many of them.”
“I agree completely.” I hated the idea of having to save the planet. The planet had been doing just fine without all of these crazy people working so hard so save it. So why are we starting to do so now?
“So, what’s new with you?” it was such a strange question coming out of his mouth.
“What?” I still had not processed the question in its entirety. “Why do you want to know?”
“For the same reasons you did.” I highly doubted this was true, but I still couldn’t form a coherent thought or a sentence that was any longer than one word. All I could think of were fragments.
“Doubtful.” There I went again, using one word answers. “Unlikely. Rare. Nope.” How come I couldn’t stop using only single word sentence fragments? I only wished I could think more completely.
He looked puzzled but seemed to go with it. “If you really don’t want to talk about it with me, then don’t. Forget I even asked. It was my mistake. Sorry.” He was incredibly annoyed with me. I couldn’t blame him for it. I would also be fuming if I asked someone such a seemingly simple question that didn’t beg any special answer and he only responded with half-hearted thoughtless answers.
“It’s not that.” I finally got out a full sentence and it was said much too late. Wonderful.
“Then why won’t you tell me? Did something happen and you’re still in shock from it?”
“Glad to know that you think I have an eventful life. Why do you care so much about my life?”
“I just figured that you wanted to tell be about what’s new with you since you seemed to be persistent in finding out about me. Is there something I’m supposed to know about that you won’t let me know about? You should make things easier for us both by letting me know exactly what I should know.”
“There’s nothing you need to know about. I have a very boring life. Sorry.” I was confused.
“If your life is so boring, why can’t I know at least one thing that happened recently?”
“Well, if you really want to know… all that’s happened recently that’s even slightly deviant from the normal, is that I saw the new movie. I went with some friends. We went to dinner beforehand.”
“That sounds like a boring day that you made up to satisfy me. You don’t have to lie to me.”
“I wasn’t kidding when I said that I do nothing with my life.” I didn’t know if I still wanted to ask him about the girl and if I wanted him to ask me anything more about my pathetic life. Something in me really wanted to debate with him about the merits of dating someone he is worthy of, but something else in me realized he wouldn’t care one bit about my opinion of her. But I really wanted a fight. “So, why won’t you tell me anything more about Cheryl? She sure seemed like an interesting person when I saw her there with you buying cake mix and enough frosting to choke a few cows. What’s she like?”
“She’s a nice girl and I guess you don’t believe that. Sure, she doesn’t look like the type of girl who the average person could compare themselves to. But she is really nice to talk to. You’d get along really well with her. Just give her a chance. If she and you can’t get along, I think the town will flip.”
“So you’re dating her.” I considered what to say next. “So why does it matter if she likes me?”
“You’re clearly a part of this town. If she can’t stand you, then I can’t be around you to show you the ins and outs of this new town you’ve discovered so rapidly.” He made such a ridiculous point.
“I don’t think that it will hinder your budding relationship if she doesn’t like me.”
“But she cannot despise the one best friend I have in this town.” He must be joking.
“Since when am I your best friend? We basically just met each other.” He was crazy.
“Since you and I had a wonderful connection at that yard sale when you first found here.”
“That just means that we aren’t going to murder each other anytime in the near future.”
He laughed. “That’s why you’re my best friend. Not every girl, or even person, would come up with that as the first response to being called a best friend. You’re different. So, I need my girlfriend to like you because if I have to choose between you two, then there will be a crime that soon follows.”
“Just because I’m your best friend doesn’t mean you have to choose me. If you like her so much, then you may as well choose her. I think that’s fair. You did know her first. So she gets priority.”
“Yes, but you’re more likely to become something more than what you’ve always been.”
“If you really don’t like her, then why are you dating her?” I knew the answer. I wanted to hear it.
“You wouldn’t understand. She’s the girl everyone wants and I don’t know how I would be able to break up with her when she’s also in most everything with me. And then there’s our project together.”
Oh yes, the dreaded project. “If you don’t want to tell me the truth, then don’t. I don’t care. I just don’t think you should ever be with someone who makes you choose. That’s not a real friend.”
“She’s not the same as a friend. She wanted to go on a date and so I said yes. Before I knew it, she was calling me her boyfriend and I didn’t know what to do. And so here we are now, talking about how I essentially got tricked into getting a girlfriend and how you handle people so much better.”
“At least she wanted you. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
“Of course it does. But she didn’t get to know me. For all she knows, I might scare her completely. She may have run away screaming. But I never got to find that out.”
“That’s all the better, then. You wouldn’t want the popular girl running away from you.”
“Just because she dresses that way doesn’t make her a snooty popular girl.”
“I never called her snooty. I just called her popular. She is popular. You said so yourself not too long ago, remember? Don’t go putting words into my mouth.” It was rude and silly at once.
“You don’t like her because you’ve placed her with those other rich girls. She’s different.”
“I haven’t met her. I don’t have an opinion either way about her. I haven’t said anything that even remotely attacks her. There’s no need to defend her. I’m taking your word on what she’s like.”
“Why don’t we just talk about something else? This topic is obviously too much for you to handle discussing in a civilized manner. Let’s think of something else. Does that work for you or would you like to go ahead and decide what to think of me because I decided to want to change the topic?”
“There’s no need to go ahead and start attacking me for everything I haven’t even done.”
He seemed to be about to fire a comment back at me but seemed to not have anything worthwhile at that moment and refrained from speaking to me. “Just don’t assume you know everything. You’re still new here and the town has a lot of history you don’t know anything about. Stop assuming you know all.”
“So, what about Steven Bender? Anything I should know about him? What don’t I know?”
“Let’s not talk about him. Not right now. Maybe later. Maybe some other time. How about that?”
“Let’s just call it a night.” I stood up and slid right back down. “We’ll talk about it tomorrow or a more convenient time for you to inform me about every single secret in this town I need to know of.”
He didn’t say a word and we just sat there together. I eventually gave in and lay down, deciding that since I would surely be there all night long I did not need to remain seated. And even if there hadn’t been a real reason, the sitting position was uncomfortable and I was getting agitated. Perhaps this is how he ended up next to me several nights ago. We somehow found each other best at night.
He was the guy who brought me a blanket and wanted to make sure that I was comfortable in my sleeping on the grass. I couldn’t stand that his girlfriend was the type of girl I couldn’t stand one bit in my classes, as she reminded me of the girls at the lake house who were too rude to even have their actions fathomable by the most creative dreamers around. She was a very bothersome person.
Her demeanor bothered me. Everything about her, from her perfect hair to her brand new shoes bothered me. Her voice, which I barely heard, bothered me. There was nothing about her that didn’t bother me one bit. I hoped that she and Ricky would not be together long. For his sake. Or maybe hers.