An Interview with Mr. Ex

Chapter 3 : When We first bumped

Chapter 3 : When We first bumped

(9 years ago)

(Flashback- Second day of university)

(Jade)

It was the second day of university and Jade looked around nervously, her eyes flickering from one end to the other.

She didn't know anyone there in this big, confusing world. UC Berkley was everything she had dreamed of and everything that she had had nightmares about. It was big, massive, sparkling, dynamic and she was just a speck of dust in this vast universe.

The tall and majestic clock tower showed it was eight. There were guys talking with a soccer ball in front of a big round metal ball in the front of the campus. Jade stared at them for a minute, breathing in and out.

There was a huge oak tree next to the building, where her first class was. Jade walked towards the tree and then inside the long corridor, feeling trapped. If she could just turn back and run away, she would.

She felt so lost and alone in the crowd of students milling around and laughing and talking in loud boisterous voices, their eyes lit with happiness, their faces animated, their smiles spilling around them like glitter.

It almost made Jade wince and shrink back, the obvious difference between her and these sparkling beings.

The tall guys in blue and gold letterman jackets, the bear mascot posters hanging from the lockers, the group of students protesting against something with a voice amplifier, screaming at the top of their lungs outside, some girls with tired eyes with coffee cups firmly grasped in their hands... it was so new to her.

She studied in a school that had 500 students give or take and be pushed inside the ocean directly from the pond, oh, ut wasn't doing anything for her backbone or self-confidence.

She was like a little deer caught in the bright headlights of a barreling truck. The truck was scary fast and scary loud. Jade felt like

she would be crushed to smithereens if she stood there any longer.

She closed her eyes, whispering to herself. This will be alright. I will be... I will be... I earned my place.

She looked down on herself with a frown, unconsciously comparing herself to the butterflies of girls fluttering around the long corridors.

Her sweater was loose on her body and it had seen days and days of laundry machine and sewing machine—the red was now a patch of pink and the dark pink thread running through the hole in the underside looked so glaringly contrasting to the rest of the pink.

Her jacket was from goodwill and her pants were from Susan, the girl who had previously owned Jade's room in the orphanage. She had discarded a few clothes because they had become too short or too tight when she had moved out and Jade was ever so grateful for that, as she had taken possession of the clothes and the room, a year ago.

Jade grew up in an orphanage from when she was seven, after her parents left her. Not just left. Died and left. Stolen her life as they shattered into nothingness.

Her parents had died in a car accident and the exuberant and enthusiastic Jade—whose curiosity burned brighter than the sun and whose questions were intelligent beyond age and comprehension—had become quiet, mousy and withdrawn.

She didn't make a noise, she didn't raise her voice— because Sister Sophia had told loud girls would not get picked up for adoption— and so she stayed quiet and waited and then she had just stopped being a kid.

She had forced herself to grow up just so that someone could see how good she could be if they chose her.

She had dreamed. Of a new family. Of someone who would pick her up and pull her out of this suffocating loneliness that made her feel breathless and voiceless.

No one came though, at least not for her. She had become so invisible that no one had actually seen her.

She was the one to blame for that, and she knew, but she just couldn't put herself back together and be like who she once was.

It was so tiresome, so she had just stopped dreaming. And then... she had just stopped living. She was forced to realize that expectations bring disappointments and misery and so she had stopped expecting from people, stopped accepting people into her life.

Jade sighed. It is stupid to think about that right now. I am done with the orphanage. Now I am here...

But here, even here, it didn't feel right or safe for her. All the years of trying to fit in with this strangeness inside her, that was so different from all the others, had stolen her lights, her vivacity. Now she was a stranger in her own body, own mind.

She was standing at the edge of a cruel world, wishing for the impossible, when her dreams stood away, waiting for her to go to them, to wish for them.

Jade looked at her watch and realized she was late for her next class.

Shit, get a grip, Jade. This is not the time or the place.

She pushed herself against the back of the wall, unobtrusive, as she walked along the walls, the lockers, like a ghost, to her next class.

She could hear girls giggling and sharing jokes, she could hear guys hooting and laughing, but they were all a distant ding in her brain.

She was so very enraptured at avoiding everything, everyone, that she didn't avoid colliding with the guy who was barreling towards her.

Her books splattered on the floor and she bent down to pick them up. Her eyes pricked with tears.

This i***t who had just crashed into her and didn't even bother to look. It was as if nothing had happened. His steps still in a hurry, he walked by her without even apologizing to her.

It was as if she didn't exist, that she was just air and only she had felt the collision. It was as if he didn't even know she was there, that he had bumped into her and her books were now everywhere.

Jerk... ass...

But maybe he hadn't seen her.

She had always been like that. Invisible. Lackluster. There was no spark in her that attracted someone to look up. No, it wasn't like she wasn't beautiful. She was beautiful, in a subtle way, but nothing about her was actually beautiful to capture someone's attention. Her personality, her existence, her essence, her sense of self, her confidence, her attitude. Nothing.

She sighed. It was all she could do, right now. She was like a ghost in white, traversing unnoticeable through the crowds of glittering personalities.

If she were a piece of painting hung in a gallery, no one would even take a second look at the piece to discuss the artistic viewpoint. They wouldn't even give it a first look. They would just move on to the next painting.

When Jade finally reached her class, Professor Rutherford had already started his 'Ethics in journalism' class.

Some day, Jade wanted to come out of her shell and write articles that would make an impact on the world, that would shake tear glands and pull heart-strings. The thing was...Jade knew she didn't have to peacock herself in front of the world to be a journalist. She believed she only needed a good story. But she didn't know at that time how completely wrong she was.

Professor Rutherford nodded her in as she hesitantly stood at the door of his lecture hall. No one looked up from their notes when she walked in, except a gorgeous looking girl and then, as if Jade didn't interest her anymore, she looked back down with a small twist of her lips.

Jade found five empty seats in the fourth row and went and sit in the middle of the five seats, hoping to put a little distance between her and her classmates.

Professor Rutherford started in his deep voice. "Why is ethics so important in journalism? Because a journalist needs to have a deep sense of duty towards the community they are serving. The modes of the media are not about just the freedom to impart your opinion on others or tell your own version of truths... Because your viewers have a right to know the real version, the unaltered version, as well." He said as he started to scribble in the green board, his words weird scrawls.

"That is why we have a whole subset, that is why you are in my class- Ethics in journalism. Journalism is not about the stories you write, it is also about the truth that is reflected in your way of writing. It is about investigation, fact checking, because at the end of an article, you are going to have this great power to impact someone else's thinking process. Their views and ideas and even ideals." He looked at them, his wise eyes encompassing them in their knowledge.

Jade earnestly took notes. She didn't even lift her head from her notebook, except only when she wanted to look at the professor.

After the lecture, professor Rutherford asked questions, pulled words from them, made them think, to argue, to start discussions, to debate. And everyone talked.

"Do you think freedom of speech, freedom of press is still one's freedom if their freedom is hurting someone else's freedom to be, to exist, to live?" It was mayhem.

There were long discussions about that as guys and girls talked over each other, argued, taunted, teased. Mr. Rutherford watched it all with a satisfied glint in his eyes as if he was thriving in their fire and Jade watched the melee with interest and curiosity.

"What do you think, Ms. Thompson?" He asked when everyone seemed to have become tired.

She jerked in her seat and looked at him, her eyes wide with panic. "..." She almost fainted in her place. She was not good at talking... or sharing her mind.

He smiled softly. His eyes were reassuring, encouraging. "You must have some thought about that topic, right? After all, you are here to become a journalist."

She nodded her head.

"So tell me your opinions, because that is important to becoming a journalist. You can't keep quiet." He said with an encouraging nod.

"Go on, now."

She didn't want to go on. Her throat felt like it was made of grainy sand particles and her words, oh, those words, they were lost in the chasm of her brilliant brain.

If she didn't talk here, she would be losing again. This had to become her place. She couldn't afford to find anywhere else. She was here, at the doors of her dreams, and fear would only destroy it. She steadied her heart, but her fingers were still shaking.

"I think-" her voice was barely audible, it was just a whisper. Her fingers trembled on the desk and her voice quaked.

But yes, of course, she had thought about what he had said and she had an opinion. Just because she didn't talk much didn't mean she had nothing to say.

She had so many things to say, but she was always afraid to say them out loud in fear someone might reject her thoughts and her. "Freedom of speech will become a real issue when that freedom affects another person's right to security and liberty. The same way, freedom of the press is also a direct threat to one's freedom of privacy. It a controversy. Civil liberties are not to be taken lightly. They must be used and handled with great responsibility, because it is not only a power given to normal people like us to raise themselves above oppression, it is also a weapon handed to us, which can be used to oppress someone else." She finished in the same meek voice.

"Well said, Ms. Thompson." Mr. Rutherford said, his eyes appreciative. "Take a note, guys." He looked at them. "Like Ms. Thompson said, it is a double-edged sword and we need to handle it with care."

Suddenly, Jade felt like she could breathe a little freely.

The same gorgeous girl looked up again, and this time her eyes glinted in curiosity. She gave a small smile and Jade didn't even smile back. She looked away.

Someone poked her from behind and she turned to see a guy with red hair smiling at her. "Good one, dude." He said to her and gave her a salute.

She turned away without a word.

Jade looked down on her notebook again and for the rest of the class, she didn't look up.

***

Jade walked out of the university campus, her steps hesitant and small, her eyes downcast. She couldn't afford to live in the university dorm rooms. They cost a lot, and her bank balance was not going to be enough. She was here on a merit-based scholarship and also one of the donors to her orphanage took pity on her and realized her potential, and now her bank account receives a certain amount every month, all thanks to Mrs. Elizabeth North, one of the powerful matriarchs of the North family.

That was the only reason Jade could afford the tuition—her scholarship was not full ride— and living arrangements. But living, now that was whole another area.

After searching for a roof over her head, she had finally come across a house she could afford to live in. To call it a house would be a huge overstatement. But it had a roof over and a floor under and even though it leaked when it rained, no one living there gave a damn. The second option was a life in the street and none of them was ready for that. Even though Jade absolutely hated the house—it almost reminded her of the orphanage—she had no other options. Until a new job, she needed to survive in this infested house with all the other eight girls.

Yes, there were eight girls living in that tiny little house, and they lived like chickens cooped up in its coop, like cows herded in a shed. You get the gist.

"Jade. Do you want anything to eat?" The plump woman with round face yelled as Jade walked in. Mrs. Lewinsky, who was the owner of the house, was a widow. She was touching sixty, had a loud, gravelly voice and a permanently etched frown on her skin.

"No." Jade mumbled.

"Speak up, girl. I am deaf." The woman said in a loud voice and Jade almost winced.

"No."

"Did you eat?" The woman narrowed her eyes and stared at Jade.

"Lunch."

"Come and sit." The woman ordered with a scowl. "You already look like you would fly away with wind. Thin as stick. Gotta grow some skin over these bones." Mrs. Lewinsky narrowed her eyes and looked Jade with a frown as she pushed a plate of funny looking pancakes. They almost looked like an amoeba under the microscope, but tasted amazing.

"Thanks, Mrs. Lewinsky."

"Yes, yes, now finish and then take your clothes for laundry. Finish it before eight, you hear me?" She screamed. Of course, anyone who was in the hundred miles radius would have heard it. Jade nodded her head.

Mrs. Lewinsky grumbled about girls these days and their obsession with their body and something else before she started screaming at Rosa, one of the girls who lived in the house.

"Rosa, how many times do I have to tell you not to waste your precious money-" Mrs. Lewinsky screamed through the door, even though she knew Rosa wouldn't understand a word she spoke. Rosa only knew five words in English. Yes. No. Sorry. More. Thank you.

Jade sighed. She had been living here for two weeks now. She came before the university had started, because she wanted to be familiar with the city, at least a little, before her classes had started. She also wanted to be here early to look for a job, but she still hadn't found one yet.

She grabbed her clothes and washed it before she came back to her room. Jade shared the room with Rosa and another girl who was barely ever there.

Rosa gave a shy smile to Jade and Jade smiled back. Jade was pretty comfortable that Rosa didn't understand English. Now she didn't have to fill the silence with unnecessary words. She had never been good at chatter or talking.

"Good night." Jade said.

"Gute Nacht."

This was the only thing they had said to each other, for two weeks. Jade closed her eyes and pulled a threadbare blanket and willed sleep to come. But her mind was full of pinging thoughts that refused to quiet down.

The life in front of her looked so ginormous and she didn't know how she was going to survive it or survive the people around her. She felt something wet in her cheeks and realized she was silently crying.

I miss you mom. I miss you dad. Why did you leave? Like every other night, there was only silence. I wish I can be brave and strong. I wish I was not this strange, weird, unconfident mess. I wish... I wish...

She wiped her tears away with the back of her palms. If I am going to survive this, I need to have one important rule.

Do not cry. Do not think. Just plough ahead. You have to, or you will forever be stuck in your circle.

I hate that circle.

"So try to get out of that circle." Jade said to herself as slumber slowly embraced her tired body inside the comfort of darkness.

___