Need For Speed

'GO' said the traffic light. I stepped sequentially in an assertive movement across the street around the store studded suburban lanes. There was something immersive about the empty streets where I walked. I liked to keep my head down with my hood up as I walked around this part. The guy with his own world; that was my image, like it or not, I was compelled to maintain it. Lamps were just turning on and most cars were on the more busy side of the city.

I was walking next to the cobbled, waist-high wall engulfing the park that I liked to watch. Perhaps it was just the music in my ear, but I visualized a sense of spirituality in the site. The bright green hills with the paved paths and corner residing bridge made it look like a landscape blanketing an off-grid area of some eastern country, far from the noise and density of industry. Of course, the benches forbore several people throughout the day, but at this time, only one person habituated the bench.

The same person who everyone talked about; the one everyone wasn't shy around and the one who appeared to bring vitality to every room she went in, even though I rarely saw her. She sounded like one of those kids who everyone liked, and was socially active and engaging. I only knew of what she did, how smart she was, how interesting she was to others, and only after a few days ago, to me.

I stopped, pulled my hood down minding my headphones. I stared at her wanting to say something. I was standing next to the entrance as she looked up with a focused expression.

*

I often thought of silence as a curse, but after a few conversations with some people, I began to see it as a gift. An enormous black sea. I would paddle my way through it every chance I could during social or formal events. In the rare cases of commemoration directed towards me, I smiled and walked among the vivaciousness that populated my peripheral world, but occasionally during that time, I liked to dip my toes in the quiet. In most cases, when I would work only on homework, I would swim in it, diving first, submerging into the depths of my mind. In this large sea, my mind swam 10 miles in a mere 3 minutes. This helped best with my homework and other commitments. There was a mountain of them, but my mind surpassed it. Classes were climbed effortlessly and other times I could just sit and process concepts I learned in a class without even glancing at my notes. And I was now learning on my own Quantum Physics. This to any person who read it on paper would sound amazing, even for a 13-year-old, but they didn't understand who they were looking at. I was a device, gears persisting in clockwork, but at any moment, could blow. But this danger was also my salvation. The best systems and ideas are formulated in my mind, going about a day productively. I knew this truth perhaps better than most.

But I never allowed this to happen in reality, not in front of others. This is something I was thinking of as I walked toward her.

*

I beamed as everyone walked out of the auditorium. I saw the parents go over and shower their children with 'Congratulations' and 'I'm so proud', something every parent said. But those were just the conversational din, encompassing what I was focusing on. That one cellist who played after the one-paragraph speeches about each student graduating was surrounded by a few other of his peers, presumably his friends, or admires. During his speech, I learned that he was more than just a musician or a straight-A.

As my mind drifted, my Mom crouched down next to her 8-year-old son, "That kid knows a lot."

My mind sucked back to reality as I answered, "Yeah. How did he get all those friends?"

My Mom bluntly replied, "He just followed his dream, and they liked him. I also heard he got ahead of his peers on a lot of preparations. I guess though that's owed to his... extra talents. I heard he's captain of the fall sports for most of High School and plays in large concerts since he was 12..no 14, I think. A reputation like that, he's set, he's what every person would want."

I could tell she was lost in one of her 'episodes', where she started a conversation in her head and never seemed to finish it out loud. Oddly, that sort of thing would happen over dinner when the discussion was heard of. "Your brother is good friends with him. They're both different yet something." She paused as she waited for my eventual nod. Although I gave in, perplexion struck me as I considered and compared my brother to the cellist. After I gave it she smiled, "Come on let's go. It's been a big day for your brother."

*

"I see you're going to make me ask. So how did it go?"

I glanced up just as I finished typing in the 'return' in the indented line below my main() command. Quickly, I scrolled up and back down to where I was in the script. It wasn't 2 months ago I couldn't write a single one except with the aid of photographic memory. Each one was written with zero errors or missing keywords. Colons after every 'if' statement, variables defined, directions for every key that would be pressed at the start of the program. Perfection. 140, how long does it take to write that many? Even more boggling, how was I able to learn that much in 2 months and write this project in 2 hours?

Returning to conciseness, I almost forgot John's question and wanted to answer my previous one. I looked up further beyond my friend's wavy-styled head to the Analog clock hung above the counter of the bar in the cafe. At the hour of 6, most people had left, back to their apartments, making another stop, or to some other venture, they thought worthwhile. We had been working on this for nearly an hour; felt longer.

"Well?" he said looking up from his laptop across from me at the two-chair table just next to an empty booth. Hearing his tone, I wanted to just slide into that corner, taking him just so anyone else inside was listening, or maybe because I didn't want him shouting at me in front of everyone. But, as nerve loosening as that might be, I folded my hands, put my 2 pressed fingers to my lips as I met John's gaze.

"We're laying down the groundwork. I don't want her thinking of me as some dumbass that has one use and relies heavily on his good looks to do the rest." He rolled his eyes smiling, "Did she get the message?"

The corner of my mouth shifted to the right as I looked down at my keyboard.

"What is your problem. Why do I even say this to you still? We both are exceptional at this point. Do you think you need more? Any person would look at you and say, this guy is lazy. But if you tell them the truth, they're suddenly the ones who are going to feel guilty about their lives. What happened?"

I knew that our work was finished so I closed the laptop and turned toward him, "I told her what I do. Asked her what she was interested in. Nothing unusual thank God, but I can't say the right thing."

He silently smirked and leaned in, "The right thing? Andrew, this is a new friend of yours, not some officer interrogation. She's asking you what you do and what you like and meanwhile, you're standing there, devoid of personality, stiff as a brick. Your thoughts are fuel. If you're struggling to eject the right amount of gas, your engine is going to explode." I shrugged in agreement, "We just spent months practicing together, becoming perfect and you're afraid of your freaking image?"

"I just, don't know how to..." My arms pulsed out from my chest repeatedly, and gradually, I stopped and slumped back.

"You'll work it out. we did this project, didn't we? Just go for it, and worst-case scenario, she posts about it on her Instagram account."

I smiled. he always knew how to make me laugh.

"I can't be put there. The CEO would get sued for permitting my face online."

He shook his head shrugging, "No, you'd fit right in."

I laughed, "Shut up."

*

I slid open the glass door of the balcony. I stepped out until my chest was pressed against the metal bar, overlooking the brightly lit city. Behind me were the muffled conversations of parents and friends. I had made sure to congratulate my brother on his success, his first 2 years out of college, and already a perfect student, before taking my moment. I didn't want to appear selfish in front of them, not that it would radically alter how they already saw me. The quiet boy. The city looked very vast, still overwhelming despite looking at it for 7 years now.

I took a deep breath as I closed my eyes. I found it interesting and surreal to block out my senses, and let just one of the five govern me. The honks, the gusts of wind, and the thousands of engines rumbling filled my mind. The very rare honk of a boat pulling in from the lake that the city bordered.

"Am I interrupting?"

I jumped and tried to retain my humble posture as I turned, recognizing the voice of my dad, carrying a glass. "Sorry, I didn't know I was needed. Is the trash ready to be taken down again? Do you need me to refill any of the drinks? Don't tell me Kyle's already gone drunk.

My dad smiled, "Surprisingly, that kid's behaving much more model. He even asked about you, how school was going. I told him you're going strong."

I gave a half-smile and a nod. My dad walked over and spread his arms on the rail next to me. Although he was one of the few people who actually listened to me, other than my new friend I made just a few months ago during school, my chest tightened.

"I heard about your new interests. Programming is a pretty serious skill. And I think I heard someone say you like checking out the theories of physics. A little bit into the unknown are we?"

I swallowed something, maybe saliva or my fear, but it gave it a shot, "I am trying to become something special, and this is something I want to do. I don't care if I fail."

My dad narrowed his eyes, "Hmm. I'm not saying you're doing the wrong thing, but I'm just saying that you still seem triggered when you're with others. You're very quiet. Why?"

"Ever since I started talking to my new friend, I notice that he isn't like the other kids. I asked him about himself, and he seemed more interested in me. I looked at him, and I saw myself. But I still don't know why others don't get me. I thought that maybe learning new things with him might help me be accepted but... I guess I need to be patient."

My dad turned toward me, and I could tell he wasn't angry. "Your loneliness could mean something special."

"But I don't know when I found what I am looking for. How do I know."

He lifted his head up calmy, overlooking the large city, red lights emitting 'on' and 'off' on his face. "You never do. And you never can be perfect. Take your brother for example. He thinks his honor achievements from school have gotten him praise, and while that may be, he needs to learn that to truly stand out, he needs something unique to offer." He breathed and then smiled, "That's something I'm teaching him. Kicking and screaming, he'll get it. Surprisingly, he's now more invested in his singularity rather than what others consider 'perfect'. But it does beg the question, Andrew, what are you shooting for?"

*

Her focused expression shot me in the chest, and it nearly knocked me backward. But I pulled my earphones and crossed the entrance to meet her. As I approached she didn't smile, but the red blades that ejected from her eyes retracted, leaving a relaxed, almost curious expression. As I approached 1 step away, I told her I was from her school and she said she recognized me.

"How did you know?"

"John told me. Know that kid. He said he's your best friend, said you were legit."

Son of a bitch! He set me up. No turning back. I tried not to think of this as a humiliation, I got enough of that from his banter. I remembered what John said to me in the cafe.

"Yeah. He's something, isn't he." She gave a smiling hiccup. "Sit, don't burn fuel standing."

Blocking out her unintentional reference to my friend, I sat.

"He said you like sciences." I nodded smiling darting my eyes to her knees. "That's cool. Me, I'm more of a writing addict. I sometimes write for the paper, sometimes fiction, other times my perspectives on technological development in the country. You read it?"

I wanted to exhale, but I couldn't ruin the impression. I was stuck again in my process of maintaining composure, but I made no progress yet. But perhaps I didn't need to make the first move yet. Forcing the other person to speak first is a strategy I utilized when talking to a challenging person or someone I respected. "No, public opinion is something I'm not interested in."

She folded her lips in on themselves. "Neither do I, but people who know things like physics, puzzles, and cool aspects like that I respect. Most of the people in the school are fun, but I guess I like the ones that have something to say. How 'bout you? "

I then took the final step in my conversation, I was going to turn it back to her and she would have to ask me, 'you want to talk again'? "You obviously seem to have a lot of depth."

"Maybe, but I want to know first, what's your story?"

I didn't know what to do next. My hands had just met each other 10 seconds ago. One of the late Hondas zipped by outside the park, nearly running a red. I watched it until the car's negative charge magnetized me towards a positive one: her face. As she blinked from her side view I looked back at the wall in front of us for about 10 seconds. Couldn't shift away or closer on the bench.

Rather than hate it, I understood it: the silence. Sitting next to a girl, one who wore a compelling intelligence and one I considered worth my time, and a chance to get up to speed with her other friends. But I was shitting my pants, gasping for air in the turbulent sea, all the while conjuring methods to replicate her bounced-off personality. It was time for me to walk on water and exercise those doubts. This wasn't something I could endure, escape, or contorl, it was something that I had to leap into, faithfully.

My hands broke up after meeting for just 20 seconds after stratification.

I looked her in the eye. Her countenance indicated her mind was in the state of patience, opposite mine own in readiness. The exchanged look acted as its own green traffic light. I wasn't waiting this time. 'GO'.