Well, a couple of months have passed once again since I have written. For some reason, I have not had the desire to write about myself or my family in quite some time. Maybe its because I have to write all the time at school and a lot of time about things that don't interest me. I also spend a lot of time trying to remember figures like dates about historical events that have some interest to me, but I cannot seem to remember when exactly they happened because numbers don't seem to stick in my head for some reason. I definitely don't like writing book reports on books by people like Shakespeare or Jane Austen. I guess I would rather write about current events or fictional stories about precoscious cats or dogs. Unfortunately, I will not be able to take Creative Writing until next year and only if it does not fill up before I can sign up.

So, I keep a writing journal by my bed that I write in once in awhile, but not often at once to transfer to my blog. I do have a story that I feel needs to be written about and that is why I am finally entering a long, overdue posting. It does involve my friend, Beth, and the Sweethearts Ball that happened two days ago.
I asked Beth to go to the dance a couple of weeks ago and she said 'yes' and then a junior named Dylan asked her a few days later and for some reason she said 'yes' to him also. I think she was surprised by his request and somehow forgot about me asking her. I don't know exactly why she did it, but I think she has secretly liked him for awhile. Well, anyhow it really hurt when she finally remembered that she agreed to go with me and then apologized. She seemed to be really embarrassed by it, but I decided to forgive her and I think she sensed that I hadn't really.
I wasn't going to go at all mow even though I had bought tickets, but I heard my Grandpa's voice tell me to "get back on the horse, son". So, I decided to go by myself. I felt so alone and I thought that my time at Ronald Reagan High School had sunk to a new low. The only person I felt close to and could trust was Beth and now I felt so 'isolated' and depressed. 'Isolation' then has become my word of the, well, month. Just when I was about to call my dad from the payphone, a girl named Emma came up to me and started talking to me with just a little hint of hesitation; almost as if she was being encouraged by a distant voice like I was. She said "Hi. I'm Emma". "I'm Jem", I replied. At first, I sounded a bit confused and maybe as though someone like her was only coming up to me because of pity. I was also allowing some of my anger of the evening come through and I think Emma sensed this and said "Are you ok?" I said, with some hint of annoyance and sarcasm, "yes, I am great. How are you?" She stopped her answer and seemed ready to bolt at any moment, but the funniest thing happened; she didn't. She got this funny look on her face and as though she was sizing me up, processing what I had said, and thinking of her reply all at once. I don't know if I can remember feeling that uncomfortable, yet somehow free to be more than just a 'nice guy' for once. All of the uncomfortableness in the silence melted away when she finally said "Do you want to go for a walk Jem?" I was speechless. "Um...yeah, sure. I would like to do that"...not exactly a great line from a romance novel, but it made her smile.
So, Even though my first reaction to Emma was filled with distrust, self-pity, and a little bit of shame, she somehow saw through that. It was as if she knew exactly how I was feeling and exactly what had happened to me this week. Perhaps, even though we don't share any classes together and have never met, she somehow knew who I was. Well, I didn't ask her if she knew Beth or what our relationship is like, but it seemed like for an instant as we were leaving the multi-purpose space (MPS) that she shot a nasty look at someone. I glanced only once in her direction as we were headingout and tried not to look at anything else but the floor. I had decided that I didn't want to even know if she was somehow playinga joke on me or perhaps was sent by someone else to "tease the lonely kid" or "run salt in the loser's wounds". That was what was running through my mind as Emma and I departed the MPS and started heading toward the Arts wing. We walked almost the whole way down the corridor while she told me about how she moved here from Northern California at the beginning of the semester and how small the school was that she went to and how much she misses it. She also said that her only friend, Jordan, talked her into coming to the dance and how much she dislikes dances, but thought she could meet people, but that everyone seemed to know each other already and that she couldn't get "a word in edgewise" (not sure exactly the meaning there) and how she was really wishing she were back at her old town (Arcata) where right now she would be riding her bike to the beach and wishing she wasn't so alone, when she looked over and saw me. She said "you looked like the only person here more miserable than me", so she decided to meet me even though she was nervous. We stopped at a glass case at the very end of the hall by the art room and she pointed toward a painting of a beautiful, misty beach scene, but didn't say anything about it. I looked and saw her name on a small piece of paper next to it: "Emma Lynn Osterman" and it was simply entitled "Home". I looked at her and said "I like it, it rhymes. Um, your name, I mean". once I stopped studdering a little more about her name, I finally spit out "Your home is really nice". She smiled and then told me about how she drew it from a photograph that she took the day before she left. "Why did you come here?", I asked. She explained that her Step-dad's Dad was really sick and the family decided to move to take care of him. She said that also her real or biological Dad has had trouble finding work and thought a change would be good, so her moved her also with his girlfriend. "What does your Dad do?", I said. "He used to be in construction, but lately he has been making sculptures and a lot of times he has meetings with people about saving trees". This made me perk up even more and I told her that my Dad is trying to save our local rivers and lakes from being bought and drained by the "fat cats". "Well, our Dad's should meet", Emma said and I agreed.
We just walked around the school talking until Principal Preston told us to go back to the dance. I asked her if she wanted to dance and she said "I would love to sometime", just as she noticed a white pickup truck pull up in front of the circle. She gave me one of the best hugs I can ever remember receiving and off she went. She was almost out of sight when she ran back from the truck, which made my heart race even more, and said "Do you need a ride?" "My Dad will be here soon" I said and she ran off again and disappeared into the truck which drove off. I didn't even notice that someone was calling my name from the entry to the MPS. It could have been the music or the thumping of my heart, but the words "Hey Big Sky!" finally broke through. "Hi Beth", I said calmly, "Are you having a fun evening?" "Where have you been all night? I have been looking for you", Beth said. "Oh...I have been seeing the school in a whole different light, Beth", I answered.
"Isolation" means: "far away from other places, buildings, or people; remote" or "having minimal contact or little in common with others". An example of its usage is "The mysterious girl delightfully interrupted my utter isolation".



Isolated Mountain Goat painting by "Nick's Pocket Paintings" myspace site.