Broken Triangles

By Nikola Jakupec

Jay is an immigrant from Croatia who, along with his family, moved to Indianapolis in a hope for a better future. Being a socially awkward, straight A high school student in a new country, his social life leaves something to be desired. With only three friends, one of whom is back home and the other talks to him exclusively online, he begins his next year of high school which seems as dull and uneventful as the last one. Except, this one will prove to be everything but dull and uneventful as he's suddenly thrown into previously unknown situations, new friendships and unexpected challenges.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lulu.com
• Release date: Oct 5, 2017
• ISBN: 9781387275403

Book preview

Broken Triangles

Broken Triangles

Nikola Jakupec

Second Edition

Editor and publisher

Nikola Jakupec

Proofreader

Ivana Jurković

Cover design

Martina Stipan

Nikola Jakupec

2017

Copyright © 2015 by Nikola Jakupec

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review or scholarly journal.

First Printing: 2015

Second Edition: 2017

ISBN 978-1-387-27540-3

Nikola Jakupec

M.P.Miškine 47, 33405

Pitomača, Croatia

[e-mail]

Ordering information through www.lulu.com

Special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, educators, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the above listed address.

To Martina Stipan, who told me I would one day become a writer because of my long speeches.

Prologue

Ever since I was a little kid, I always dreamt of living in the USA. That changed a year ago (when I was 16) when my father got a job in the States, just like in those crappy internet ads, but real.

Since he couldn’t leave his family behind, my mom, brother and I followed him to Indianapolis. I would say that all my friends were heartbroken and miserable about my departure, if my social skills had enabled me to have any. Except for Martha, who was more of a sister that I never had and less a potential girlfriend that I was in a constant search for. She was the only heartbroken and miserable person, so much that she even added an h in her name on Facebook so it'll be like she's there with me, or so she said.

And so, off we went to the USA, a land of new opportunities. A clean slate, fresh start. – I thought foolishly, thinking my knowledge of the language could hide my oh-so-terrible people skills. It’s not that I can’t talk to people or anything like that, it’s just that I can’t talk to someone whose main topics of conversation are the weather, who said what to whom, what a local sports team recently accomplished... but I digress.

So after a ten-hour flight and many zeroes on the cost of the flight tickets, so many I dare not count really, we landed in Indianapolis, Indiana and settled in a nice house, who knows where. To me, all of it seemed like a school trip, for about a week. After the excitement had sunk in, it became a town like any other, just that it dwarfed any city I’ve ever seen with its size.

Fall quickly came and I had to go to school. I didn’t bother remembering the name of the school, which was maybe a bad idea since there’s like a billion of them. But I eventually found it and proceeded to walk inside the dreaded building. My attempt to be cool was somewhat interrupted by a mid-walk collision with a guy not unlike myself. Of course everybody laughed, I would if I were them, but I wasn't. That’s how I basically met my first friend in the States, Mark.

The first school year whizzed by and my grades were stable As, as they were before moving to the States. The people in my class didn’t seem to like that, or me, so they mostly evaded me. Mark didn’t, though, he was a grade A student as well and didn’t mind the evasiveness. It gave him a sense of freedom to be himself and not think what others would think of him, because both of us knew what they thought of him and, by extension, me. We often talked about nerd stuff as the others called it: games, science, tech... The topic of girls came up here and there, with most of the sentences being 'She’s hot.' and the thoughts being more like 'Oh, how she’ll never talk to me...'

We became best friends and talked every day, even during the summer holidays. I told him of Martha and my home country so I could safely say that he knew me best. The second school year had begun so the old routines came back to life once again: not talking to many people, not many people noticing me. Though, there was someone whose attention I’ve gotten...

Chapter One

Like all big adventures, this one started on a lazy Sunday afternoon a year after moving here. I did my usual thing: chatting with Martha and watching my favorite Youtubers doing daily Let’s Play videos of various games. Martha was the only person I spoke to in Croatian, I even avoided speaking to my parents in that language simply to force them to learn English. And so our conversation went as any other, touching subjects such as school, time zones, recent developments in our respective countries, love. Love was a topic I was kind of sensitive to, mainly because I wasn’t very proficient in the art. Martha wasn’t a guru or anything, but she could talk her way out of every situation. So our conversation went on, but then someone else popped online. It was Natalie.

Natalie Turner was a girl (shocking, isn’t it?) who attended the same classes as I did, but we never spoke in real life for a reason still unbeknownst to me. We met on chemistry a year ago with just a look. She looked at me and I looked at her, it was one of the best looks of my life. If you could rate the quality of a look, that one would be a clean 10/10. Although, I wonder what that 10 would be, her look or her looks. Because, dear lord, that girl was pretty. I still remember what she wore that day: a plain green T-shirt, jeans and a black hoodie which gripped her curves beautifully. Nothing special, but it went perfectly with her green eyes and her long straight red hair which concealed parts of her cheeks. She didn’t really stand out in the classroom, except she totally did. Maybe it sounds crazy, but after that a friend request was received after school. To this day I still don’t know how she knew my name, considering that no one could pronounce it. To shorten it, she was the first to come up with Jay which kind of stuck, even the teachers started using it when everybody got sick of them pronouncing it incorrectly and butchering it in the process. So one day Mrs. Roth, the chemistry teacher, tried to call out my name and after four failed attempts, Natalie just stood up from her seat and said,

Just call him Jay. That’s basically how I got my nickname. She looked like a normal person, but looks can be deceiving. When we started talking online I was amazed at her bossiness, but not in a bad way. She was a girl that knew what she wanted, when she wanted it and how to get it. Everyone else in my class considered her kind of abrasive, but I got used to it, so did Mark. But he didn’t communicate with her as much as I did. We spoke almost every day.

She always sent the message first, this time it was no different.

N-T3rminator: What up, Jay?

Idrryl: Oh, nothing, just talking to Martha, trying not to think about tomorrow’s test.

N-T3rminator: Chem? Oh, come on. You’re the smartest kid around when it comes to chemistry.

Idrryl: I’m not afraid, it’s just that everyone will seek help from yours truly when the test comes. It bugs the hell out of me.

N-T3rminator: I’m sure you’ll figure something out. Or just say no.

Idrryl: You know I can’t do that.

N-T3minator: You’re still hung up on that girl? Dear lord, man. Why don’t you just make a move and get it over with?

She was talking about Alex, a girl from our class I kind of liked. She was sweet and all that, but I couldn’t figure out a way to approach her in a way that would say 'You wanna go out with me and have a good time?' So I responded to her message:

Idrryl: Have you seen me around girls? I’m like a chimp trying to get a banana from behind her back.

N-T3rminator: Your problem then, but I didn’t come here to talk about your girl troubles.

Idrryl: Fine, what’s on your agenda today?

Nat was always like that. She didn’t want to talk about other people, least of all girls who interested me. When I think about it, she never had a boyfriend nor did she want one.

N-T3rminator: I have a question.

Idrryl: Of course you have, shoot.

N-T3rminator: Sarcasm not appreciated. My question is: why are you always looking for a girlfriend?

That was a weird question, she never asked me this. I changed my position in my chair and started typing on my old laptop, the keys crackling under my fingers:

Idrryl: I don’t know really. I just want to share my feelings with someone. To spend time with someone.

N-T3rminator: Don’t you have Mark? Can’t you spend time with him?

Idrryl: Of course I can, just not in that way. You know what I mean.

N-T3minator: Let’s look at this from a highly objective standpoint.

That was one of her favorite phrases.

N-T3rminator: You want a girlfriend because you want to spend time with someone of the opposite gender. And in that time you want to share your feelings with that person. Seems to me like it’s a waste of time, really.

I would not be wrong if I said she was weird. But this was kind of unexpected, she never judged people, least of all me. Something was off...

Idrryl: This doesn’t sound like you. Is everything alright, Nat?

I sent the message, but got no answer. I waited for 12 minutes, by that time Martha had already left (time zone difference) and my daily Let’s Play videos were over and there was still no answer. But just as the 13th minute had been passing, I got an answer:

N-T3rminator: Meet me at the Mem, I need to see you.

Wait, what? What? She has never asked me to meet her anywhere. We never spoke in person, for crying out loud, and now she wants to see me?

Idrryl: The Mem? You sure?

N-T3rminator: 10 minutes, be there.

And with that she went offline. My eyes widened, I couldn’t believe what she was saying. But I decided to go along with it. I left my throne room in a bit of a rush, putting on my usual black hoodie over my gray T-shirt and looking for my sneakers. I was running around the house looking for them when I bumped into my mom.

Hey, hey. What’s all this about? She asked.

No time to talk. Need to leave house for an hour. Shoes? I was eating the words in my sentences like they were M&M’s. Mom just pointed at the door and sure enough, near it were my black and white sneakers.

Just be back before dark. She said as I ran off.

Nobody’s going to steal my organs if I stay outside after 9PM, mom. I said, closing the door behind me.

I stepped outside in the cool air of autumn and started running to the center of the city. 'The Mem' was the Indianapolis World War Memorial so I knew immediately where to go. It was a slang all the cool kids at the school used, I guess. I started running just as a slightly cold breeze washed over my face. I could see the first brown leaves on the ground, the second fall in Indianapolis since my arrival had begun. I ran like the wind, this was a chance that was too good to pass up. I was always somewhere behind her, but never actually there for her. Aside from IM, she never showed any emotion except for happiness, I couldn’t even imagine her being sad or worried.

I took me about eight minutes to get to the plaza where I could see the Memorial, Nat was waiting at its base. I rushed to it and, as luck would have it, I tripped at the first step of the memorial and almost fell on my face. That made her laugh and when I raised my view I could see her standing by the statue, leaning against it. Behind her was the Memorial building which, from my point of view, looked like the Tower of Babylon, stretching to touch the sky. But it looked miniscule when compared to Natalie, who at that moment presented such an imposing figure, it made me feel like a slave who has come to pay respects to his pharaoh by shoving his face into the limestone stairs.

Rise. She said laughing, rising her hand up in the air. And so I did. I dusted off my shoulders like I had been digging a tunnel for three hours and walked up the stairs to her. It was only then when I noticed what she was wearing. White T-shirt with some kind of inscription which was concealed by a partially zipped-up black hoodie which matched her black jeans perfectly. Her red hair was swept back, exposing her shoulders and her slim figure, drawing attention to her oval shaped face with an unmistakable Nat smile on it. Her green eyes looked at me like they were looking for something on my person.

Smooth, Jay. Real smooth. She said, still laughing at me.

What can I say, it’s just the way I am. I replied through a bit of laughter, still disbelieving that I was actually talking to Nat. Once the laughter cooled off a bit, she approached me with a bit of caution until she was but a few inches away for my face.

This is kinda weird... I whispered.

Why should it be? She asked, somewhat surprised.

Because you never talk to me in school, we never meet in person. Also, you never ask me about love, it’s just not your style. What’s going on, Nat? She looked down at my feet, then made a step backwards.

I’m a bit slow to trust.

A bit? A year has passed and only now do we speak face to face. I said, maybe a bit angrily. The truth is I didn’t know what I was feeling at that moment. I was thrilled to finally be a part of her world, but I could’ve been that a year ago.

Why wait so long? I asked.

I just... she faced away from me, looking down the stairs, I wanted to see if you would pass the test.

What test? What are you talking about? I approached her from behind.

Contrary to popular belief, I don’t have many friends. I’m just like you. She said without turning around.

Nonsense. I said, Every day I see you talking to a bunch of people during school. They make you laugh, you hug them and they hug you back. It’s a life that I want to have.

At that moment, she turned to me,

You have no idea what it’s like to be me, alright? Those people aren’t my friends. They are just… husks. She replied, quite furiously.

Husks? I asked quietly.

Yes, husks. Failed shells that could’ve been people, but they got sidetracked and lost their way. They misaligned their priorities and failed at growing up. They are the people who can’t see farther than a bottle of beer or a cigarette. They are complete failures who won’t accomplish anything noteworthy. They are the ones who failed the test. You, on the other hand, passed it. Her anger just kind of melted and became a slight smile. I was still a bit skeptical,

What makes you so sure I’m not like them?

Because you had the patience to wait a year. Because you didn’t abandon me even if I was in a bad mood, you tried to cheer me up. Even just through chat. She said with a soft voice.

Yeah, but I failed almost every time. I answered a non-posed question.

It doesn’t matter, you tried. Maybe you failed 99 out of a 100 times, but if you succeeded just once, then you made more progress than all of those people combined. Failure is not the end; it just means you care enough to try again. At that moment I felt her hand on my left shoulder. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing, those words couldn’t have possibly come from Natalie Turner. She was not a sympathetic person, well... not as