"Come on!" she said, eager to get going. I simply had to agree with her. This little one was so demanding on me, I thought. I grabbed my backpack, and she practically pulled me out the door by the hand. I didn't even bother resisting, because I wanted to get going, too, so I could see Kelly.
Melanie was just full of energy, but I had a much heavier load. She didn't want to carry anything, but I had to carry all her stuff! I didn't mind, she just had two of her little books and a pouch full of crayons, pencils and all probably a pencil sharpener. I was going to find out, I was sure.
It was really hot out, and I was glad to enter the library. Here the air was much cooler, and I could feel the sweat harden my skin as it evaporated. It was a peculiar sensation, switching so fast from the scorching, Southern Ontario heat into the cool, dry library air.
It didn't take long for us to see Kelly. Melanie saw her first, to my chagrin, and she grab my hand again and pulled me towards her. I was nervous, at first. I just didn't know how to reveal to Kelly the way I really felt about her. I mean, I always thought I was pretty special, but when you looked at Kelly, when you saw her move, it was like looking into a completely different world. Her voice had a way of grabbing you, and once you heard it, you could never let go. It was hard to exlpain. I guess you had to be a guy to really understand. She was looking through a book, leafing throguh the pages with one hand, holding her pencil with the other. She wrote something down, clearing her throat as she did, then sighed and looked at the time.
"Hi Kelly!" whispered Melanie. Kelly wasn't listening, though. She had on a pair of headphones. Melanie stopped, hands on her hips. Melanie always got upset when people didn't listen to her. She didn't say anything, she just pursed her lips, brow furrowed. Then she looked at me, eyes filled with anger and hatred beyond that of any child.
"I don't know what I did that was so wrong," said Melanie. "It couldn't have been that bad."
At first I didn't understand what Melanie was talking about. Didn't she see that Kelly had headphones on? But Melanie just kept looking at me, like she expected me to go up to Kelly and start doing battle with her. I just sighed and walked forward.
"Hey Kel," I said.
She looked up as if she had just emerged from a daze. She pulled her headphones off. I could hear the music of "Kharma Police" playing. Ugh! I kinda liked "the Bends", and everyone seemed to like the song "Creep", but something was different about the music now. Something had changed.
"It took you long enough," said Kelly, summoning up a smidgen of anger. She never liked me and she never did, even though she was the most beautiful girl I could ever remember laying my eyes upon.
"Actually, I came upon the agreed time," I replied, not the least bit indignant, but uspet that she continued to hold onto her anger. If only she could let go of her hate.
She didn't say anything, of course, since I was right, and she knew I could tell when she was lieing. I sat down, placing my backpack next to me. Melanie plumped herself down next to me. She kept glaring at Kelly like she was going to bore holes through her head. Kelly didn't seem to care.
"So, uh," I began, "how much have you done on the essay?"
"Which one, our essay or my own?" she asked.
"Um.. well," I thought. "Yours, I guess."
"I'm just about finished," said Kelly nonchalantly. She started leafing through pages again.
"Um.. what was it on again?"
"You mean our essay?" asked Kelly again, as if she were trying to change the topic.
"No," I said. "I mean yours."
"Saint Thomas Aquinas," she replied.
"Hmm... well, I did my part on our essay," I said. "I got everything I could on Saint Augustine. His life and what they wrote. I looked on the internet, a little bit, but..."
"On the internet?" said Kelly. "I told you the information on the internet isn't reliable. Besides, the teacher said he wouldn't accept it unless your notation was perfect."
"Oh," I said. "It is perfect. You're making it sound harder than it should be."
Kelly didn't say anything.
"Oh," I said, "I know why. It's OK. Don't worry."
"What do you mean?" Kelly asked, genuinely perplexed.
By now I had gotten used to Kelly, and, I admit, I was a little tired of her. It was hard to believe such a little girl could be making me so tired! Like it or not, it was true. So against her will, I got back on subject.
"OK, how much work have you done on our essay?" I asked.
"It's pretty much done," she said. "All I got to do is write it out in full. I got most of the notes, now all I need is to know what you have written so far."
"OK, lemmege'mynotes," I said, mumbling. I found Melanie had already opened my backpack and had pulled out her books and bag. She reached into my pocket and pulled out some candy. She started eating it, wiggling around on her but and singing a song as she was chewing. Kelly tried to ignore her.
"You want some, Kelly?" asked Melanie.
"No thank you," said Kelly.
"Come on! It's good," said Melanie. "Reese's Pieces."
I noticed a chill seemed to pass over Kelly, but Melanie didn't seem to notice. She just kept chewing, singing a song about squirrels and bushy tails.
"Oh, are you allergic to peanut butter?" I asked Kelly. "Melanie, can you put it away, please?"
"Whyyyy?" asked Melanie in a sing song voice, elongating the final vowel, increasing the pitch of her song at the end with melodious cadence.
"Because Kelly is allergic to peanut butter," I said.
But Melanie just kept on eating. I decided to try and press the matter as a way of impressing Kelly. "No, Melanie, please," I begged. "Some people who are allergic to peanut butter can die from it, if they even breath in it's dust."
"Will Kelly die from it?" asked Melanie. She said this with a coldness one would not usually expect from a ten year old girl.
"It doesn't matter," said I. "Just put it away. Please?"
Melanie thought about it. Then she looked at me like she was really angry with me! She put the Reese's Pieces back in my pocket. Then she kept chewing, and seemed to return to her previous state of happiness.
"Father Pearce is mad at you, you know," said Kelly.
"I know, I know," said I.
"You're not paying attention in class," said Kelly.
"Well, it was boring," I said. "I mean, he kept droning on about those passages from Hebrews and Corinthians, you know..."
Kelly didn't say anything, but I was aware she was listening.
"I just... I dunno... I was..." I wanted to say I was thinking about the kind of things I wanted to do to her, but I couldn't very well say that!
"I find Saint Paul is a very wise man," said Kelly.
"I think he's a wanker," I said. "Seriously. He had to have been one of the biggests wankers that side of the Atlantic. Back then, anyways."
Kelly just seemed to smoulder with anger. I just kept my cool, this time. I was getting sick of her high minded, holier than thou art attitude.
I felt like critizing her, telling her she didn't know what she was talking about, that she just didn't see things the way I do. But she was just too gosh darn easy on the eyes. For a moment, I knew it was people like her that made people hate the Christian religion. I wonder, if she had been alive over a thousand years ago, how the pagans would have reacted to her indignation over every their every action, their every little word they said, even when, they knew, they hadn't done anything wrong.
