Celine smiles (Part 4: Stitches )

I asked my mom if we could still turn around but she yelled at me as the house is nearby. I must’ve left it in the club room. It’s safe there so there’s no need to worry. Leslie also said it over the phone and I asked her to leave it be on my seat and make sure to lock the room.

After my mom was done scolding me, we were at the driveway and my sister continued to talk about her life at school until she stumbled upon Celine and asked how I knew her. After telling the story she replied “That does sound like her”

She also told me that she cannot blame Celine for acting that way because I did come off as scary and any sane woman would react the same.

“She’s really nice, maybe you just got off the wrong foot.”

“I certainly hope so, because we’re gonna work together”

“Uh huh, I watched this series already”

“Shut up”

The next day came sooner than expected. My sister has no classes today so I had to go to class alone. It is actually liberating to carry no bag as I feel lighter, I could get used to this.

I was an hour early to finish some work since our deadline is later this day. Luckily, I have the key to the club room since Leslie and Michael’s class are much later today; much to my relief, my bag was left seated at my spot but the duct tape covering the tear made by Celine two nights ago. In its place is a pink thread sewn into it which completely contrasts the dark blue and black color of the bag. It smells like female cologne too, although the stitching is pretty rough.

I took the bag and went on my first class where I share my class with some of my interns. Asking them on who did it, they all said no as they all came home early. They figured it was Leslie since she was the one last to leave the room as per my story last night. They all have that stupid look when they mentioned Leslie to which I responded by snapping my fingers at their faces.

Leslie was busy that day so I could not find her. I asked Luna, a classmate of hers, on where she might be as I am painfully curious on who stitched my bag. She said she was at the cafeteria so I dashed to it immediately.

Gasping for breath I saw Leslie eating with Jay and some of her classmates. Immediately I greeted Leslie with a big smile and thanks for stitching up my bag and asked her what I can do in return.

She met me with a disinterested look with her eyebrows curled and her head tilting to the right side. Jay was also looking at me with his eyes widened yet refuses to look at me as if he knows something but refuses to say it. After twenty seconds of this charade, Leslie let out a big sigh “You really are a bad actor Jay.” And the rest of their classmates laughed.

Leslie explained that she did not sew my bag. Jay did not speak a word about it. “You’ll know soon enough don’t worry, for now work on the deadlines for today.”

So I went back to the club room and did all the editing that is needed for this week’s deadline. It’s mostly advertisements for the upcoming sports event and in my field of interest that is why I am more meticulous about it, which leads to the distaste of my few interns. We did come to a few compromises since the deadline is nearing and by 4pm we were able to finish the newsletter and it is ready to release in the website tomorrow and Monday in print.

After assigning my interns on which sport events they would be covering I immediately dispersed them. One of them asked if who would oversee the photographs and I said I would accompany someone from the photographer’s club as they let us borrow two more of their members.

The day ended sooner than expected and much to my delight I can  play with video games more at my home. Streets at this hour are much busier so I don’t have to think about ghosts or anything like that.

Walking towards the gate of the campus with no deadlines in mind made me appreciate the beauty of the campus at this hour. The orange sky is covering the buildings as well as the ground, as if the sun is saying goodbye. The trees, building and road all look the same but orange light that separated the day from night makes it feel like a new place. It is not the far and wide area as in the morning and not the closed sensation when night falls since the darkness obscures much of the surroundings. It was perfect. Looking around I fell in love with the moment as if I wanted to be suspended in this point in time until my eyes locked with a certain someone and I immediately want to run away.

It was Celine.

She was busy taking photos of the orange sky in which I really adore as of the moment. It’s really wonderful. It’s just in the moment she puts down her camera, is the moment I look at her much to both of our distaste.

I tried ignoring her and walk away with my head down. She seems to do the same as she was looking up, looking for shots.

By the time I pass by her she pointed her camera at me, but her left hand was waving me get away. I got a bit irritated and continue with my walk

I got close enough to hear her and suddenly she spoke, pointing at my arm “Does it still hurt?”

“No, it’s fine”

She nodded with a half-smile and continued taking photos.

Something hit me and I looked back at her “Hey, did you fix this?” pointing to the sewn up hole in my bag. Focused on her camera she refuses to acknowledge me.

I wore my bag again, disappointed that I cannot get any answer for the stitches in my bag, I decided to go home.

Before I could lift my feet away toward her, Celine walked toward me and showed me the photo she took. It looks great, like the ones in her portfolio. The orange sky was even better than what I looked before my very eyes. I’m in awe and amazed but I really have no idea how to describe good photographs, but I know something beautiful when I see one.

“Did I do a good job?”

“Huh?”

“The stitches”

“So you did fix it”

She did not speak and continued shuffling her photos in the camera she took, each breathtaking in their own way.

“I guess you’re better in photography than sewing then”

She punched my gut.