I Want To Be Adored

By V.A. Streva

Adderall, hipsters and bitter dreams loom in this short introspective novel that follows the life of a soon-to-be college graduate.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Apr 8, 2014
• ISBN: 9781483521633

Book preview

9781483521633

1

A daydream lands on a chord unknown, challenging nature in all its glory. Forbidden at the sound, so tired, I fake through the miscellaneous nature of language. It grows in and out of my speakers and fades below my mind's eye. Bored with it all, some features of nature haunt the scenery that lack on a highway, while the lines and the cars, and all their cutting, political, anti-BP stickers dry out the humid air with their parts on display, like a godly act couldn't keep them from the road. I feel so unwashed by all the scenery, set out to dry dirty with no remorse of being, just a sense of exhaustion and frustration. I’m rushed through and through.

Four years spent running through the people, the classes, the parties, while the lights of the passing time rest along the way – drab, dreary, bland, like a foggy English morning where the horrors succeed with sound but no vision. It grows beyond my actions as I try to take a left. The light isn’t long, but the person in front of me fools around with his front seat, completely oblivious to the green light ahead. I honk my horn and he jolts, moving faster and then slower once he gets on University. I pass him up and feel suddenly stressed. It feels like forever getting to my parking spot even though it isn’t far away. The cars, the speed limits, the traffic lights, I feel so mesmerized by everything I shouldn’t be as my heart beats faster, knowing I’ll be 10 minutes late.

Fluttering unknown, driving, blank, with a pointy gaze over me, it seeps beyond me as my day to day life sits run through. I would skip class, but with three weeks to graduation, I don’t have much of a choice. Besides, the excitement of my Lafayette friends is about as exciting as my friendship with the road.

I dated this guy, Steven, briefly my freshman year. And even though we dated for only two weeks, I somehow managed to become lodged between this group of people that he hung out with; that now I hang out with. I used to think it was cool he was in a band. And then I heard them. And then I broke up with him. But I stayed at the shows, watching, festering all my emotion as they tell me I’m wrong on almost whatever I say – unless it’s what they say, in pure, exact form. They sit around, charming one another, and I stare back, telling them they’re right regardless. I don’t know why. But I let it, creating a wholesome disaster.

I finally get to my parking spot, quickly grab my things and get out. I walk down the street. It’s shady and loud as cars pass by, one by one, gaining momentum for their sake and their sake only. As I cross to get to the quad students walk, ride their bikes, and talk to one another as they cross with me. The campus is divided by St. Mary, oblivious to the multiplied and added fractions of people walking through the paved concrete, side by side.

The sidewalks are lined with flowers. They seem to sing in tune with the birds flying ahead, but contrast with the grayish skies that pulverize the beauty of the sun trimming through the trees. Walking through the quad, the grass stands pretty and green with shades of white popping up as spring occurs. The weeds grace and flower next to a set of cardboard tombstones, some reading, RIP Higher Education; RIP ULL. They stand forward and apparent, matching the skies, slightly ominous, but looked over by a few, not being interesting or tangible enough.

My daydreams fold in the brick of the buildings as I make my way through the quad and cross another street. The smell of freshly cut grass, leaning against my feet, invigorate, as it reminds me I need a break from the usual. My other friends, Melanie, Marie and Kimberly go to LSU. I’m visiting them this Friday, and it couldn’t come fast enough. With graduation approaching, I could use all the parties and laughs I can get.

I knew them from high school. We all went to different schools, but we’ve become good friends over the past few years. I don’t visit them enough though. I usually stay at home on the weekends or hang out with a measly group of people that get me high. Driving from my house to theirs doesn’t exactly sit easy with an hour and a half drive. The last time I was in Baton Rouge was well over two weeks ago, and it was a strange night.

Kimberly brought her newest boy toy, Frederick, over to their apartment. She was fake and loud, stressing every syllable. I passed it off as we went out to a bar called EightNineTen. But she took the bar over like insanity. After hours of her ordering people around and talking loudly, well over the crowd, we left. We went back to the apartment and smoked a bowl. But she got bored quickly and wanted to leave. We all said goodbye, slowly enjoying it, as Kimberly, quick and impatient, told Frederick they had to leave now. I told him bye as we hugged, and then joked about our hug, awkward in nature, and said goodnight. He lingered in his footsteps, waving to me twice, but I didn’t second guess it. Kimberly yelled for him, and he disappeared.

I’ve never seen her like that, I said to Mel and Marie. But they just looked at me and shrugged their shoulders without saying anything back.

I sometimes prefer to stay out of it, but Kimberly has always had her own agenda. Things tend to revolve around her like she’s the spitting image of the sun. She was an only child and made well aware of that fact growing up. But, I don’t know, before it wasn’t so rude or awful, she was a good friend. It’s just gradually gotten out of hand.

I finally make it to the building, quietly entering astronomy, 15 minutes late. I sneak through the door, but there’s no real sneaking as everyone looks up at me and looks away. The looks on their faces are a shade of pale and tan as they jot down notes on Thursday morning, lacking anything amusing, not holding on for anything, not even tomorrow. But as Facebook invites for the night pop up, they sit ready, and tired, and restless waiting for the class to end as something sustainable lacks in the classroom.

I slowly pull out my notebook and start taking notes. The auditorium, which usually seats 300 students, is filled with about 100, if that. The room, mixed on opinion, has some students sitting next to each other in solidarity, while others sit alone looking on random people as they miss some of the notes. I sit alone, managing to be infatuated with the entire room of people as they seem to fall asleep to their own musing thoughts.

The class goes on over and over again; repetition and bland overtones mock any motivation we had. The stars and the flashing light on the projector, gazing beyond my standard sight, traveling through me and out of me. My eyes, like fireworks, explode in delight as the drool from my absent mind wakes me up. Someone next to me pops a pill, awake and ready, and I stare jealous at their newfound attention span. I look over to find some of the students fiddling with the internet, others sleeping on their desk, some writing notes to each other like it’s 8th grade science, and a few people staring at the ground, warped by something other than this class and the teacher’s astronomy notes. The rest of the 25 minutes seem to pass by quickly as we all lack true identity in our form, too tired, too exhausted, taken over daydream after daydream.

As I get up to leave some of my things fall out of my bag. I pick it up with a few looks from people passing by. Charmless, I’m sure. I start walking ahead, feeling more awake with each step, as we all seem more awake by hearing the words, You’re dismissed. The moment I walk outside the sun hits as the gray skies must have fallen apart. The sun, being so warm, reminds me of a childhood memory, eating snow cones on a summer day as my mom calls me in, Gloriaaa!

The memory rolls out as I start walking across campus to my French class. Regardless of being pepped up, it still feels too early for a foreign language. I contemplate skipping altogether, but decide I’ve missed enough classes this semester. The people on the left of me walk and talk, mindful of everyone around. I don’t listen in; not giving in to their craving of attention that’s heard louder and louder the more people look over to hear them speak.

I tread along, dragging my feet, and I notice my phone is vibrating. I dig through my bag to find it, and I see it’s Marie calling. Excited, I answer the phone, Hey girl, what’s going on?

Hey!! Not much, just walking to class, she says back, reeling from the other line.

Me too! I respond, standing stationary on the sidewalk, trying to position myself away from the noise.

So I was wondering what time you were coming in tomorrow?

Probably right around 6 or 7ish.

Alright, cool, I was just checking!

We talk for a little bit more, rupturing our conversation into minor laughter before we say goodbye. I hang up and put the phone back in my bag. I walk onwards, around and about the area, filling it in, piece by piece, with my thoughts. Forgotten and tired, drawn out and never rescued, I cringe at the sight of