Camera Motifs

"You're the bestest, babe," Jen mumbled to a bombed Jill.

"Nopesies. Yer definitely the coolest soph I know. And, uh, take the rest, cutie . . . Jen I hope yer boytoy over -- I hope that man of yours, like, always tells you yer great. If he doesn't then guess what," Jill somehow managed to respond.

"What?"

"Um, I told ya I'd hook ya up with Miss Mary Jane."

"Yeah that is why you, Jillian, are the number one person of this earth -- no contest."

"Uh, school is gay."

"You're so random. Will you please hug me?"

"No -- get the fuck away from me you emo slut."

The laughter arose at once; the train tracks vibrated in approval. Everyone says ridiculous things when they're high, but Jill managed to self-consciously deliver only the funniest and wittiest conversation-twisters, at the perfect moments, during her trips. Plus her drawn-out, low-key tone added precision to her comments. It was like each of her quips was a mini-performance.

After Jill's remark subsided into legend, Jen bear hugged the senior with hyperbolic force. Nature may have wanted Jill to react mock-violently, and give another one of her sarcastic treats to the world -- but, perhaps to show Jen how strong their bond was, she accepted the offering and added her arms to the adorable arrangement.

"Oh, yeah I know her -- that's cool," Dave said to Jen -- although the words rang true in his mind, his heart called insincerity to the sentiment.

"She's the greatest! See you later!"

"Okay. See ya."

Dave landed in Human Physiology a little disillusioned. He organized his Jen situation during a lecture on the capillaries. We're still friends, we still hang out, we're still close, he thought. Something had vanished, though. There was no intimacy anymore. Not even an "I got your back" kind of relationship remained at present. His friendship with both Nick L and Sean R were comparable in merit and comfort to his with Miss Jen.

"Those three types are thus: continuous, fenestrated, and sinusoidal. Let's begin with continuous capillaries," Dave's erratic professor stated. Dave, though -- he heard other things. He was outright depressed by the end of class. He strutted to Sexual Education with a specific quotation ready to analyze.

"She's the greatest! See you later!" Jen had exclaimed fifty minutes ago. The first sentence killed him. She's the greatest. What is he, then? Just good? Sub-par? There was so much enthusiasm in her penultimate remark -- spewed out of a regularly indifferent visage! Then the second sentence. She was happy to depart his presence? He knew she couldn't be psyched about seeing her monotonous Chemistry teacher speak of polyatomic ions!

After school fell asleep and Dave awoke, the air seemed to want everyone to simply chill -- put on the latest Enya album, sip some hot cocoa, tell some ghost stories . . . the winter had arrived!

"No," Dave mouthed to Miss Katie P.

"Huh? Everyone's gonna be there!" said the party-organizer.

"Oh, sorry. Sure I'll go your Christmas thing. But right now, Jen's calling my name!"

"Um . . . no she isn't. Dave!"

The concerned remark lost its meaning before it terminated. The adrenaline-fueled rock star had begun his search for Miss Jen. He cleared every inch of the school grounds -- no luck: the predictable sigh followed. He dialed her number -- copy that. Where the hell could she be? Whatever. He let the time flow undisturbed. That night, his diary entry was considerably direct:

I'm feeling depressed. The chemistry between me and Jen is no longer here -- in any capacity. To quote Jacob Black, "Life sucks, and then you die." Meh.

A stark divergence from what Dave usually writes. Usually he pens abstract, ambitious, and alluring stuff. Take this excerpt from his November 1, 2009 entry:

Jen. Nej. Enj. Yes! Tis it! Alas! Unscramble "Jen" and lookie here! "Enj" = Enjoyable, quite frankly! Let's proceed, further. "Jne" . . . or JNE: Jesus Never Existed. She did say she subscribed to my faith! I know at least twelve brothers in Judaism who've exercised that claim! Oh, yes! What a marvelous day! Oh, yes, and "nej" -- Danish for no. Um . . . ! Well, tally ho, and let me fix this inconvenience forthwith! Life!

Dave's carefully-measured penmanship is a sight in and of itself. Wait -- that doesn't come across in a blog. Gosh darn it! We'll cry later. First, let's dish out a screamingly outstanding final paragraph.

Alas, as November was ready to accept a "6" on hole eighteen, Dave fell asleep. Hope colored his visage. Another era had just begun!