Fangirl

I deliberately showed up at the very beginning of Potions. I didn’t feel like smiling at everyone and answering pesky questions. I had a task to do, and that was the only thing I kept my attention on. Everything went as I had planned. The professor, first of all, puzzled over the seating arrangements and I was ready. Except that the sight of Martha knocked the ground out from under my feet a little. She looked — how can I put this right… She looked like death warmed over. Paler than usual, though I didn’t know there was such a degree of transparency. Skin like diluted milk, blue veins outward. The eyes are the same, only there’s a grid of red veins covering over. Deep shades under the eyes and a distracted look. She’d lost weight and looked like a ghost. From the looks of it, she’d been sick all vacation. I should take her to a physician immediately if she hadn’t been to one yet. I hope it was nothing serious. It was hard to pull myself together, but I did manage to read the seating list. I’d been a little more worried about reactions before I saw Martha. Now I didn’t bother at all, needing to figure out what was wrong with her right away. ‘Are you sick? ’ ‘I’m fine now.’ What does that mean? I could see her dulled gaze, but even so she was diligently watching everything I did. I realized what she meant by ‘I’m fine now’. For such an extraordinay person, that was just fine. I was confused by her obsession, but…. And then I realized what had happened to her! No way! Is she completely insane?! I asked questions to confirm my own hunch, and I was right. Martha’s condition had nothing to do with illness, unless, of course, her obsession could be described that way. The longing had nearly sucked her dry. I had heard of such a thing, but I had never seen it, and I would never have believed that one could drive oneself to such a state in a week. What an idiot! I didn’t do much more than that. I told her to eat well in exchange for our continued time in the library. I was going to ask her to do that anyway, but she pissed me off to the point of fury! Torturing herself like this! I’m not even dead! I felt better in the dining room. Martha was eating and staring at me. So much better. It was the same as always, and I liked it. ‘Listen, you’ve done a great job with the seating.’ Kirill distracted me from thinking about the girl. ‘But thanks for Lida, I appreciated it.’ My friend smiled broadly. I knew he liked the girl and saw no reason not to help. ‘Why am I sitting with him? ’ Maxim jabbed his thumb at Gregory, who was stuffing his mouth with chicken pie. Gregory intercepted the fist with the still poked finger in his direction and turned it so that it was pointing upwards. ‘You see, he’s quite happy with my choice.’ ‘You bet.’ Maxim said, massaging his dark, curly head. ‘I’m the one who has to control the dosage, or something will burn or explode.’ Gregory, whose mouth was already occupied with five juliennes, tried to make an innocent grimace and spread his hands as if repenting. ‘It’s exactly what I’m hoping for, that we’ll get through the semester without accidents.’ Maxim, retching, exhaled deeply. A couple of the girls who kept Grishka’s company the previous two semesters screwed up. One serious fire and one explosion with injuries. Luckily, the injuries had been to Grigory himself — he had managed to cover his partner with his arm, and so he was nursing his arm back to health for the next week. I had no doubt that only the attentive Maxim would be able to look after the sloppy Gregory. ‘All right. You’ll get over it.’ Gregory finally took a short break and clapped Maxim on the shoulder, making him almost choke. Gregory was an earth mage— a true earthbender: tall, strong, all the food went into his muscles, and since there were no muscles in his head, that was the result. ‘Careful! ’ Maxim yelled. ‘I’m sorry! ’ My best friend’s element was fire, but he looked like an airbender: thin, wiry, and outgoing. Only the dark hair common to most of his tribe left doubt. Firebenders were often born swarthy brunettes with brown eyes, while air mages were blond and light-eyed. Gregory was also a typical specimen of his element: red-haired and freckled. I realized only at that moment that we were all obvious models of our elements. Kirill, too, had not been spared by the same fate. As a waterbender, he had blond hair and blue eyes. ‘So, why did you sacrifice yourself? ’ Kirill asked, leaning down. I understood what he meant. He was asking why I sat with Martha. ‘Well, how do you imagine it? ’ Max answered ahead. ‘If you give her a mate, who? Who won’t whine and cause problems? And who should solve these problems later? Ivan whined like a baby, and he was just left alone at the cauldron. ‘Big one, but how whined,’ Grigory added contemptuously. ‘That’s true,’ Kirill nodded in agreement. ‘But why did you touch her at all, let her sit alone. It didn’t seem to bother her much.’ Then there were three answers at the same time: ‘Don’t we have anything else to talk about? ’ asked Maxim. ‘I forgot to ask you about what’s bothering her.’ I commented. ‘He likes her,’ said Gregory, and we all stared at him. He didn’t look at us. He turned and looked over our heads to the corner where Martha was sitting. ‘I’m sorry? What did you just say? ’ Kirill cut in. Gregory turned around. ‘I mean she likes him.’ Grigory thought for a moment and added, ‘Yes, Martha likes Phillip, she looks only at him.’ ‘All the girls in the class look at him,’ snorted Max. ‘That’s an exaggeration,’ put in Kirill, who thought he was no less popular. ‘Maybe all of them, but not everyone would cut out a frog’s liver for him. So I think Phillip has settled down nicely,’ said Grigory weightily. ‘It’s better not to,’ said Maxim with a squint. ‘Not to do what? ’ ‘Think, Grisha. That’s not your cup of tea.’ It was impossible to hold back any longer, and we laughed. *** Within a couple of days Martha really did look better. The shadows under her eyes were gone. She still looked frail, but at least she wasn’t dying. I was terribly nervous, but still gave Martha the bracelet. I had to take advantage of one of the vacation days when my sister was busy, so I could sneak out of the house to stop by the shop. Martha looked at me with wide-open eyes, and I thought I could tell by the surprised look on her face that I had slipped her a frog rather than a present. But she liked it, I was very pleased. And I even asked her if she missed me. Though I was sure she did, but I didn’t expect to be told if I not ask. Then all of a sudden it was her brilliant suggestion to sit alone at Potions again. Her willingness to sacrifice herself for me was gnashing my teeth. She should just have been happy that we could spend time together. Martha was right, though, and the rumors that we were often seen in the library had grown strong enough that we were discussed in that unpleasant way where everybody pretended not to look, but whispered and giggled in small groups. I made a pocker face; tried to act as I always did. My friends avoided the subject, they must have thought the rumors were unfounded. There was only talk between Martha and me; I wanted to get to know the girl better, she seemed to resist it. Probably thought I’d get scared and run away. If I thought like a normal guy of my age, I must have run away. In fact, I was really interested in understanding Martha’s way of thinking. Her logic was very different from that of the girls I had to deal with. First of all, she didn’t hide her feelings and took them for granted, so no matter what we talked about — and I, admittedly, tried to make her blush — she wasn’t embarrassed. I was the only one red in face. I saw the reason for this the fact that Martha had been looking at me since freshman year and had long ago accepted her feelings, while this was all new to me. Besides, I was quite surprised to know that she didn’t care much about the group opinion either. Well, she did really care when I was concerned, but she didn’t seem to worry about her own image in the eyes of others. And then I realized that she just didn’t bother about those around. At all. Except people who had something to do with me. After the second month, I was forced to admit that Martha was a head above me as a person. How is that even possible?! No, I didn’t consider myself a narcissist, but I reasonably assumed that Martha, rejected by society, must be rather withdrawn, indecisive, insecure, shy and modest. I could have added more unflattering epithets, but they all applied to the supposed girl, not Martha. From the very beginning of knowing her better, I realized that indecision was out of the question. She invaded my life like a hurricane. She helped with difficulties, such as exams or nasty draughts. Again, she never once worried, exhibiting the extent of her own obsession with me. I was the only one who blushed. And afterward ashamed that I was embarrassed when she stared so directly and intently into my face. I also realized that she wasn’t withdrawn — she simply had no one to talk to. She wasn’t verbose, either; she chose carefully what to say and how to say it, that was probably why I’d never listened to anyone so attentively as her. Next on the list was perceived — perceived by only me — insecurity. Undoubtedly, I was judging Martha by myself. Realizing that I was a mediocre airbender, I felt shaky. I always worried that the spell wouldn’t work, that the element wouldn’t respond, that I didn’t have enough power, and I tried to cover it up. I saw others like me, as it takes one to spot one. But Martha… It was different with Martha, one had to look at how deftly and simply the fire obeyed her. She looked almost bored as she showed me the spells. Sure, they were elementary but still… I saw no doubt or fear in her that she would reveal to an outsider’s eye her failure as a bender. Though maybe it was about me? Maybe she didn’t feel insecure because I was watching? But what about the anxiety associated with everyone trying to look their best, especially in front of someone they really like? I was sure that feeling was inherent in absolutely everyone. Spirits, the unconventionality of this girl was knocking the ground out from under my feet. Only a very strong bender could behave like that, but, alas, I knew for sure that Martha had average or lower potential, and I had even double checked her file being a monitor. I couldn’t see her in the native element classes though — the girls were practising in a separate room. And yet, there were few people I saw and felt as independent and strong-willed as her. She was like a queen in a tall white tower. Watching everything from above and not caring too much about what was going on below. That only changed when it came to me. *** ‘I have a present,’ Martha said suddenly, pulling me from my own thoughts. The academy had been buzzing with talk of All Soulmate Day for the past week. It was nothing special, just a mid-February day when couples exchanged confessions, gave each other chocolates and unfulfilled promises to love each other till death. ‘The gift is in your room,’ she added, as if on purpose, staring especially intently. ‘How did you manage to sneak into the men’s wing unnoticed? ’ I tried to look casual. ‘Magic,’ she answered simply and smiled. Her smile — the smile of the queen from the tower — was easy and relaxed. I didn’t understand how one could look open to simplicity and yet mysterious at the same time. It was confusing. I didn’t want to say hackneyed words like ‘you shouldn’t have to’ — I wished that, and yes, I was flattered by her attention. I had counted on it and was glad to receive it. For the first time since I was a child, I wanted to know what it was. But of course I didn’t let it show. I thanked her staying composed. *** I stepped the threshold of my room breathless. What was it? A card with a confession, or maybe heart-shaped candy — it was a popular gift. Girls had often given me similar things in previous years and this one. I used to find a bunch of gifts in the common living room. Of course, I never touched them, letting the guys handle the food and other stuff. I also warned them to check the dessert for potions, but few took my warnings seriously, and they paid the price in broken hearts and healer’s headaches. On my desk, by the window, a rose stood against a backdrop of blue icy patterns. The flower was uncut taking a small pot. Only one bud bloomed up, the rest were pulling their heavy heads above the dark green foliage. I went in, closed the door tightly, clicked the lock. I lowered myself onto a chair and fixed my gaze on the soft pink core. The color faded to the edge and disappeared completely into an elusive milky beige hue. Excitedly, I moved closer to inhale. The scent of the flower was tangibly sweet with a tart note — the scent of hot summer, the scent of blissful relaxation, the kind that only comes when the heat of the earth and air makes you move and think more slowly, and any lack of action is seen as a blessing. It was the pure magic of nature — the magic of illusion and repose. But how could she have known? How did Martha know that I simply adored flowers? Ashamed of this, no doubt a vice for a man — and yet adored. It was no big deal, but I couldn’t imagine how I would tell my friends, for example. And I could hardly imagine that I — not my girlfriend — would receive bouquets. I felt both embarrassed that someone had found out about my little secret besides my mother and sister — it wasn’t a secret to them — and pleased. I folded my hands on the table and hid my face, swollen with blush and pleasure, as if here, in the privacy of the walls, someone might peek. The scent of rose filled the room, and I breathed beauty and was ready to coo softly. Martha had given me not just a flower, but a few moments of summer in the midst of a cold February day. What is left for me to say? In that distant conversation, I was throwing words left and right, yelling that I was ‘not a sucker for snotty romance.’ In fact, that’s exactly what I was, and I was ashamed of it. It’s not manly for a guy to like flowers and get them as gifts. But what could I do, if the tenderness of the petals, the enchanting fragrance and the supernatural beauty of flowers forever won my heart? Could I find someone who would accept me as I am? Wouldn’t mock my little foibles? And most importantly, who would look at me with a rapturous, loving gaze until the end of time. I thought it was Martha. And now I really hoped I wasn’t mistaken. I touched the rose. Martha had guessed me so well that I was frightened. But at the same time I felt a strange, irresistible attraction to this girl. She glowed so brightly that I wanted to close my eyes and bask in her warmth. I don’t know why the others couldn’t see it. I just hoped she wouldn’t dislike me once she got to know me better. My fondness for flowers didn’t seem to bother her. I wanted her to stare at me like that always. Just me and no one else. Let her accept my gift.