Neogen: Chapter 5

The cafeteria buzzed with the midday energy of Moonstone High. The overhead lights gleamed off the polished tables, casting a soft glow over the room. At one of the tables, June sat alone, her fingers delicately picking up pieces of Korean bulgogi with her chopsticks. The savory aroma wafted up, reminding her of home and the comforting presence of her grandmother who'd made it for her that morning.

This is the best part of the day, she thought, savoring the tender beef and perfectly cooked rice. The flavors danced on her tongue, a mix of sweet, salty, and a hint of spice. It was a small comfort, but it was hers.

As she ate, her hazel eyes flitted across the room, observing the familiar scene of high school life. The jocks, in their letterman jackets, laughed boisterously at one end, while the theater kids animatedly discussed the upcoming play at another. The nerds, engrossed in their board games, strategized and plotted, their voices a mix of excitement and concentration.

June sighed, feeling the weight of her solitude. Why can't I just fit in somewhere? she wondered. The thought wasn't new, but it stung afresh each day.

She reached into her bag, pulling out her sleek white AirPods. Slipping them into her ears, she tapped the side, activating the white noise feature. The cacophony of the cafeteria faded, replaced by the soothing sound of rain. It wasn't real rain, but it was calming, a gentle reminder that she could control at least this small part of her world.

She leaned back, closing her eyes for a moment, letting the white noise wash over her. The laughter, the chatter, the clinking of cutlery on plates - it all faded away. For a few minutes, June was in her own world, a world where she didn't feel so out of place.

June's solitude wasn't a recent development. Ever since she could remember, she had always been on the periphery, observing but never truly participating. It wasn't that she was shy or lacked confidence; it was just that the world inside her head was so vivid, so all-consuming, that the real world often paled in comparison.

Every year, as the summer waned and the scent of fresh notebooks and pencils filled the air, June would make a silent promise to herself. This year will be different, she'd think, staring at her reflection in the mirror. This year, I'll reach out. I'll join clubs, go to parties, make friends.

But as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, June would find herself retreating once more into her shell. The bustling hallways of Moonstone High, filled with laughter and whispers, seemed like a world apart. And so, she'd return to her corner table in the cafeteria, her sanctuary.

Today, as she sat there, she pulled out her sketchbook, its pages filled with intricate drawings and doodles. Each page told a story, a glimpse into June's rich inner world. There were fantastical creatures, landscapes from other worlds, and portraits of people she'd never met but felt she knew intimately.

June was a striking figure, even if she didn't realize it. Her raven-black hair cascaded down her back in loose waves, contrasting starkly with her smooth skin. A smattering of freckles dotted her nose and cheeks, a testament to the summer days she'd spent reading under the sun. Her eyes, a deep shade of brown, always seemed to be looking beyond what was in front of her, as if she could see into other realms.

Today she new exactly what she needed to draw. She needed to draw her dream. 

June's pencil glided effortlessly across the paper, capturing the ethereal landscape of her recurring dream. The vast field stretched out, its grasses swaying gently in an unseen breeze. The sky overhead was a tumultuous mix of oranges and purples, as if the sun was both rising and setting at the same time.

In the center of the field stood six figures, their silhouettes stark against the vibrant backdrop. June's hand moved with a fervor, detailing the way the light seemed to emanate from the ground beneath them, casting an otherworldly glow. The scene was both breathtaking and foreboding, a paradox of emotions that she felt every time the dream visited her.

She had always been an exceptional artist, able to capture not just the physical details of a scene but the emotions and essence of it. This dream, with its mix of wonder and dread, was no exception. The light from the ground seemed alive, pulsating with energy, and the figures, though still faceless, conveyed a sense of anticipation, as if they were waiting for something monumental to happen.

As she moved her pencil to sketch the faces of the figures, June hesitated. She closed her eyes, trying to recall the features of the people in her dream. But no matter how hard she tried, their faces remained a blur, elusive and just out of reach. It was as if a veil had been drawn over them, preventing her from seeing them clearly.

She frowned, her fingers tapping the sketchbook in frustration. It was unusual for her to forget details, especially something as significant as this. She took a deep breath, willing herself to remember, but the faces remained stubbornly hidden from her memory.

With a sigh, she set her pencil down, staring at the incomplete drawing. The faceless figures stared back, their identities a mystery. June felt a pang of disappointment, but also a growing sense of curiosity. Who were they? And why couldn't she remember them? The questions swirled in her mind, adding another layer of intrigue to the already enigmatic dream.

June set her pencil down, her fingers still tingling from the intensity of her drawing. She leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms above her head, and took a moment to observe the room around her. The cafeteria was a mosaic of emotions, a tapestry of teenage life in all its rawness and complexity.

Her mother often said she was too sensitive, that she felt things more deeply than most. "You wear your heart on your sleeve," she'd chide gently, her eyes filled with a mix of concern and admiration. June knew it was true. She felt everything intensely, from the joy of a sunny day to the heartbreak of a friend's betrayal.

Her therapist had a different take. "You're hyper empathic," Dr. Martinez had told her during one of their sessions. June had raised an eyebrow at the term, not fully understanding its implications. "It means you're highly attuned to the emotions of others, almost to the point where you can feel what they're feeling," Dr. Martinez had explained.

Now, as she looked around the cafeteria, she understood what her therapist meant. She could see the wide grin of a girl who'd just received a text from her crush, the clenched fists of a boy who'd been left out of a game, the furrowed brows of a student stressing over an upcoming test, and the vacant stare of another who seemed lost in his own world.

June's fingers itched to capture those emotions, to immortalize them on paper. She loved drawing faces, especially those of her classmates. There was something incredibly satisfying about capturing the essence of a person, the myriad of emotions that played across their features. It was like catching lightning in a bottle, preserving a moment in time.

And yet, she couldn’t remember the faces of anyone from her dream, despite the fact that she’s had it every night for weeks.

June's focus returned to her sketchbook, her hand moving with practiced ease as she continued to capture the myriad of emotions around her. The world outside her art began to blur, the noise of the cafeteria fading into the background.

Suddenly, a jolt of energy surged through her, so intense that her pencil slipped from her fingers. The familiar surroundings of the cafeteria vanished, replaced by the vast expanse of the field from her dreams. The transition was so abrupt that June stumbled, disoriented.

But this time, the dream was different. The six figures in the field were no longer faceless shadows. They were her classmates: Devyn, with her confident posture and athletic build; Anika, always impeccably dressed; Reno, with his mischievous grin and roguish charm; Lennon, with his oversized glasses and perpetually disheveled hair; and Oz, with his piercing eyes that always seemed to be challenging the world.

June's heart raced as she took in the sight before her. Each of them was glowing, their bodies radiating a unique energy. It was as if she was seeing their very souls, their essence distilled into pure light.

Lennon's glow was the most intense, a brilliant white light that seemed to outshine the others. It was pure and unwavering. In contrast, Oz's light was jagged and erratic, a chaotic mix of colors that seemed to clash and collide. It was painful to look at. 

The weight of the revelation was overwhelming. June felt a connection to each of them, a bond that transcended the boundaries of the waking world. She realized that they were all connected in some way she coudln’t explain. 

June's eyes fluttered open, the harsh fluorescent lights of the cafeteria ceiling coming into focus. The cold, hard floor pressed against her back, and for a moment, she was disoriented, trying to piece together what had just happened.

A familiar face hovered above her, framed by the lights. It was Lennon, his blue eyes wide with concern. "I'm really sorry," he blurted out, his voice tinged with panic. "I didn't mean to run into you. Danny pushed me."

June blinked, trying to process his words. She could see the faint outline of a glow around Lennon, just like in her dream. It was subtle, but unmistakably there. The ethereal light seemed to make him stand out, even in the bustling cafeteria.

Lennon extended a hand to help her up, but June didn't take it. She was too captivated by the glow, too lost in her thoughts to register his gesture. She simply stared at him, her mind racing.

Feeling the weight of her gaze, Lennon shifted uncomfortably. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice hesitant.

June managed to find her voice, though it came out as a shaky whisper. "It's fine, it's okay," she stammered, pushing herself up to a sitting position. The world around her still felt surreal, like she was caught between two realities.

Lennon looked like he wanted to say more, but after a moment of awkward silence, he simply muttered another "sorry" and walked away, leaving June alone with her thoughts. She watched him go, her mind a whirlwind of emotions and questions.

With her heart still racing from the encounter with Lennon, June took a deep breath and scanned the cafeteria. The scene before her was almost surreal. The figures from her dream were all there, scattered among the tables, and each of them was glowing with a distinct hue.

Devyn stood tall by the trophy case, chatting animatedly with a group of fellow athletes. The golden aura around her was radiant, and even from a distance, June could sense the pride emanating from her. It was as if he'd achieved something significant, and the glow was a testament to her accomplishment.

Reno, on the other hand, was hunched over a table. His usually carefree demeanor was replaced by a look of intense frustration. The blue light surrounding him pulsed erratically, reflecting the stress and pressure he was under.

Anika sat a few tables away, her posture perfect as always, but her face betrayed a hint of sadness. The soft green glow around her seemed to waver, and June could feel the weight of disappointment that Anika was grappling with.

And then there was Lennon, who was now animatedly discussing something with a group of friends. His aura was a brilliant white, shimmering with excitement. Whatever had him so enthused was clearly a source of great joy for him.

June tried to make sense of what she was seeing and feeling. How was it possible for her to perceive these emotions so vividly? And why were these specific individuals glowing? The dream, the collision with Lennon, and now this – it was all too much to process.

Her gaze darted around the room, searching for Oz. But he was nowhere to be found. The enigmatic boy with the painful light was conspicuously absent, adding another layer of mystery to the unfolding events.

June's gaze returned to her sketchbook. The faceless figures from her dream now had clear identities, and she felt compelled to complete the drawing. With renewed determination, she picked up her pencil and began to sketch the familiar faces of her classmates.

Devyn's confident smile, Reno's furrowed brow, Anika's delicate features, and Lennon's wide-eyed enthusiasm came to life on the page. Each stroke of her pencil was filled with emotion, capturing not just their physical appearances but the essence of who they were.

As she added the finishing touches, a wave of emotion washed over her. Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision. She blinked them away, but they kept coming, spilling down her cheeks.

Lost in her thoughts, she barely noticed the school janitor approaching her table. He was an older man, with kind eyes and a gentle demeanor. Without saying a word, he handed her a tissue. June looked up, surprised, and met his gaze. There was a depth of understanding in his eyes, as if he knew exactly what she was going through.

He smiled warmly, a silent gesture of comfort and support. "It's going to be okay," his eyes seemed to say.

June nodded, wiping away her tears. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

The janitor simply nodded in response, his smile never wavering. Then, with a quiet grace, he continued on his way, leaving June with a renewed sense of hope. She didn’t know what the dream meant, or how to process what had just happened, but somehow we knew she wasn’t alone. For the first time, in a long time, June felt like she belonged.