Talk:Ideas/@comment-4423292-20150914012651

Suddenly, Elara realized she was alone. She turned in a circle, looking for them, but they were gone. Alfrida, Petronella, Leikny, even Yrsa had vanish while she lost herself staring at the wall.

Angry resentment shot through her. They'd dragged her along to this party, even after she tried to talk her way out of it, and then once here, they'd forgotten her. Not ditched her — she didn't believe that of them. But they'd left her there where she stood, simply forgetting her.

Midterms were over now. A series of parties had preceded the tests, and her friends had expressed little interest in those. But now that the tests had pasted, they were no longer a reason not to go, and they'd come, dragging her with them. Her friends.

They'd come together in their first years, drawn by their matching gender, shared Nordic muggle heritage, and vaguely studious interests. The were all half-blood or muggle-born, and had gone to primary school back home in a Nordic country, where they'd studied English. Looking back, Elara knew their first-year English hadn't been terribly good, but it had been better than their other classmates'. A shared mix of irritation and impatience at the limited linguistic skills of their classmates had linked them together. And as for gender, it had seemed like an important similarity at the time, although looking back, Elara couldn't remember why.

"Friends" she called them, although in truth she shared little besides those frail parallels. But provided her with a place to sit at lunch, and a way to not be alone, and for that she supposed she was grateful. She added little to the conversations, and listened to only half of what they said. But if she had no real value, she had no real problems either. Sh was pretty, and quiet, and so they had no reason to object to her. And as for her side, without those girls, who would have quizzed her while studying for the finals?

It was getting harder as she got older. She shared little to nothing with these girls, but even less with anyone else. When she went home over the summer, her childhood friends — true friends — Júlía, and Embla, and even Sara, were still their, but their lives had stretched so far apart that they had little to laugh about together. They still had a connection of sorts, and a shared past, but the gulf between their lives was vast, and grew vaster with each visit home.

When you were hanging out with your friends, and then your little sister showed up, you were supposed to say, "Piss off, leave us alone." But in truth, Elara loved the times when one of her sisters would pull up a seat next to her, and the table she shared with Alfrida, Petronella, Leikny, and Yrsa. The two of them would speak for a while, in Icelandic, and Elara would remember all over again why human company was worthwhile.

Human company.

The room was hot, and smelled of sweat, liquor, pot smoke, and something else she couldn't name. She wasn't among strangers — many of these people were her classmates, and she knew most of them by face, if not by name. There were some also older students as well, who were harder to place. But even her familiar classmates looked different now — different than the bored students she knew from class, who doodled in the margins and complained that they were tired. Their faces were lit with something she couldn't name, alive in a way she'd never seen, celebrating something she didn't understand.

Talk. Smile. Function like a goddamn human being. She made her way through the clutter of people. A classmate from Potions gave her a smile, and she stood a while, talking and hovering around the edges of their group. Talk. Smile. Function like a goddamn human being. They moved to a corner, where they could sit down, a brief smile directed at her made it clear that she was welcome to come with them. Talk. Smile. Function like a goddamn human being. They sat down, people stretching their legs out every which way, making a complicated spiderweb. Talk. Smile. Function like a goddamn human being. The one from Potions was laughing. Talk. Smile. Function like a goddamn human being. Some joke about their History teacher. Talk. Smile. Function like a goddamn human being. Everyone was quiet now. Function like a goddamn human being. Someone was kissing her. Function like a goddamn human being. She knew him, they were in History class together, although for the life of her she couldn't remember his name. Function like a goddamn human being. They were drunk. Everyone here in this corner was, and quite drunk. How had she not realized that before? She tasted it now. Function like a goddamn human being.

Someone said something in a language she didn't understand, and the History class turned away to respond. Elara looked out at the room. Function like a goddamn human being. Function like a goddamn human being. A guy was playing guitar, and he couldn't remember the words; the smoke was itching her nose; the Potions girl was smiling at her. Function like a goddamn human being. If she wanted to, she could probably find some space for herself in this group. Not just for tonight, but for permanent. They'd talked to her when Alfrida, Petronella, Leikny, and Yrsa had forgotten her. It didn't even really bother her when the drunk boy from History kissed her.

But why? They were getting drunk and it tasted like the room smelled; and laughing at jokes she didn't understand; and she felt no desire to stay.

She got up, giving Potions Girl, and even Drunk History Kisser a smile as she picked her way through the web of legs. At the door, she turned back for a moment, and looked at them a half-second. Then she slipped though the door.

Outside, the air was sweet and cold. She wrapped her cloak tighter around her, and began to walk.

The noise from the barn faded with each step she took. The path stretched out underfoot, dark and unknown, but she didn't hesitate. Her hands bobbed alongside her, pale shadows in the dark night; bright against the black of her cloak. She slipped them into her pockets for warmth. Her fingers brushed upon a piece of metal; a lock picking pick that she'd forgotten she was carrying. She wrapped it in her hand and smiled.

The moon slipped out from behind a cloud, and set shimmers across the lake to her left. The water was deep, dark, and cold — as big as the divide between her and the people back a the barn.

She didn't understand them. Their faces were lit with something she couldn't name, alive in a way she'd never seen, getting drunk for a reason she didn't know, and celebrating something she couldn't comprehend. She could play along; she could. She was capable of talking and smiling, and being a goddamn human being. But she didn't want to.

She tilted her head back, trusting her feet to find their way along the path. The stars had come out: shining and alien and oh so far away. She gave the lock-pick in her pocket a squeeze and smiled again.