I
hate
school!” This is quite loud. He starts to shake his head. “The idea of having to sit in a chair for three years and learn about stuff that isn’t going to help me in life
literally
disgusts me. I’ve always been crap at exams and I always will be, and I
hate
that everyone thinks that you
have
to go to university to have a decent life!”
I sit there, dumbstruck.
We say nothing for a minute or so before he finally meets my eyes.
“I’ll probably just stick with sports,” he says, calm again, with a sheepish grin.
“Oh, right. What do you play?”
“Huh?”
“What sport do you play?”
“I’m a speed skater.”
“Wait, what?”
“I’m a speed skater.”
“Like racing? On ice?”
“Yup.”
I shake my head. “It’s like you just picked the most random sport.”
He nods in agreement. “I guess it is.”
“Are you any good?”
There’s a pause.
“I’m okay,” he says.
It has started to rain. The drops fall on the river, water meeting water, and trickle down the window like the glass is crying.
“Being a skater would be pretty cool,” he says. “But, you know, it’s hard. Things like that are hard.”
I eat a bit more croissant.
“It’s raining.” He leans on his hand. “If the sun came back out, there’d be a rainbow. It’d be beautiful.”
I look out of the window. The sky is grey. “There doesn’t need to be a rainbow for it to be beautiful.”
The café owner mumbles something. An old woman with a walking stick hobbles inside and sits near us by a window. It seems to take her a great deal of effort. I notice that the flowers on our table are fake.
“What shall we do next?” asks Michael.
I take a moment to think.
“They’re playing
The Empire Strikes Back
at the cinema this afternoon,” I say.
“You’re a
Star Wars
fan?”
I fold my arms. “Is that surprising?”
He looks at me. “You’re very surprising. In general.”
Then his expression changes.
“You’re a
Star Wars
fan,” he says.
I frown. “Er, yeah.”
“And you can play the violin.”
“Erm … yeah.”
“Do you like cats?”
I start to laugh. “What in the name of fuck are you talking about?”
“Humour me for a minute.”
“Fine. Fine, yeah, cats are pretty fabulous.”
“And what’s your opinion about Madonna? And Justin Timberlake?”
Michael is a very strange person, but this conversation is advancing more and more towards the insanity line.
“Er, yeah. Some of their songs are good. But please tell me what you’re talking about. I’m starting to worry for your mental health.”
“
Solitaire
.”
We both freeze, staring at each other. The
Star Wars
prank. The violin video. The cats, ‘Material Girl’
,
Justin Timberlake’s ‘SexyBack’—
“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”
“What do you think I’m suggesting?” Michael asks innocently.
“I think you’re suggesting that Solitaire has something to do with
me.
”
“And what do you say to that?”
“I say that’s the most hilarious thing I’ve heard all year.” I stand up and start to put on my coat. “I’m literally the dullest person on the face of the earth.”
“That’s what
you
think.”
Instead of arguing further, I ask, “Why are you so interested in them?”
He pauses and leans back again. “I don’t know. I just get curious about this stuff, you know? I want to know who’s doing it. And why.” He chuckles. “I have a pretty sad life as it is.”
It takes a few seconds for the full impact of his final line to reach me.
It’s the first time I’ve heard Michael Holden say something like that.
Like something I would say.
“Hey,” I say. I nod at him earnestly. “So do I.”
Before we leave the café, Michael buys the old woman a pot of tea. Then he takes me to the ice rink to show me how fast he can skate. It turns out he’s BFF with every single staff member. He high-fives them all on the way in, and they insist on high-fiving me as
hate
school!” This is quite loud. He starts to shake his head. “The idea of having to sit in a chair for three years and learn about stuff that isn’t going to help me in life
literally
disgusts me. I’ve always been crap at exams and I always will be, and I
hate
that everyone thinks that you
have
to go to university to have a decent life!”
I sit there, dumbstruck.
We say nothing for a minute or so before he finally meets my eyes.
“I’ll probably just stick with sports,” he says, calm again, with a sheepish grin.
“Oh, right. What do you play?”
“Huh?”
“What sport do you play?”
“I’m a speed skater.”
“Wait, what?”
“I’m a speed skater.”
“Like racing? On ice?”
“Yup.”
I shake my head. “It’s like you just picked the most random sport.”
He nods in agreement. “I guess it is.”
“Are you any good?”
There’s a pause.
“I’m okay,” he says.
It has started to rain. The drops fall on the river, water meeting water, and trickle down the window like the glass is crying.
“Being a skater would be pretty cool,” he says. “But, you know, it’s hard. Things like that are hard.”
I eat a bit more croissant.
“It’s raining.” He leans on his hand. “If the sun came back out, there’d be a rainbow. It’d be beautiful.”
I look out of the window. The sky is grey. “There doesn’t need to be a rainbow for it to be beautiful.”
The café owner mumbles something. An old woman with a walking stick hobbles inside and sits near us by a window. It seems to take her a great deal of effort. I notice that the flowers on our table are fake.
“What shall we do next?” asks Michael.
I take a moment to think.
“They’re playing
The Empire Strikes Back
at the cinema this afternoon,” I say.
“You’re a
Star Wars
fan?”
I fold my arms. “Is that surprising?”
He looks at me. “You’re very surprising. In general.”
Then his expression changes.
“You’re a
Star Wars
fan,” he says.
I frown. “Er, yeah.”
“And you can play the violin.”
“Erm … yeah.”
“Do you like cats?”
I start to laugh. “What in the name of fuck are you talking about?”
“Humour me for a minute.”
“Fine. Fine, yeah, cats are pretty fabulous.”
“And what’s your opinion about Madonna? And Justin Timberlake?”
Michael is a very strange person, but this conversation is advancing more and more towards the insanity line.
“Er, yeah. Some of their songs are good. But please tell me what you’re talking about. I’m starting to worry for your mental health.”
“
Solitaire
.”
We both freeze, staring at each other. The
Star Wars
prank. The violin video. The cats, ‘Material Girl’
,
Justin Timberlake’s ‘SexyBack’—
“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?”
“What do you think I’m suggesting?” Michael asks innocently.
“I think you’re suggesting that Solitaire has something to do with
me.
”
“And what do you say to that?”
“I say that’s the most hilarious thing I’ve heard all year.” I stand up and start to put on my coat. “I’m literally the dullest person on the face of the earth.”
“That’s what
you
think.”
Instead of arguing further, I ask, “Why are you so interested in them?”
He pauses and leans back again. “I don’t know. I just get curious about this stuff, you know? I want to know who’s doing it. And why.” He chuckles. “I have a pretty sad life as it is.”
It takes a few seconds for the full impact of his final line to reach me.
It’s the first time I’ve heard Michael Holden say something like that.
Like something I would say.
“Hey,” I say. I nod at him earnestly. “So do I.”
Before we leave the café, Michael buys the old woman a pot of tea. Then he takes me to the ice rink to show me how fast he can skate. It turns out he’s BFF with every single staff member. He high-fives them all on the way in, and they insist on high-fiving me as
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