Bed

Sunday, 14 December 2008

 

            Jem was annoyed. He had not had a good day. For a start, things where not going as well with Stella as they could have been. It was quite clear to all that they both liked each other; it was just that every time they arranged to go out together, something came up, and one of them would have to cancel. He knew that these things could take time, but Jem was seriously starting to think that nothing was ever going to happen between them.

 

            And another thing! What was wrong with the young people of today? Did they not know that it was only polite to tell someone if you were not going to meet up with them as planned? Jem had spent an entire afternoon sitting in his office doing nothing, waiting for a load of bloody useless teenagers who did not even have the decency to come up with an excuse! Jem did not mind running the youth project, he often thought that he got just as much out of it as the youngsters that he was helping, but he did have other things that he could be doing – it was not as if he had all the time in the world, after all. And he was doing this for their benefit! He could quite happily not bother with it all. It was the kids who had wanted to set up the website, their idea to aim it at other teens with problems, to create a space where young people could talk about anything, to anyone, without fear of being judged or discriminated against.

 

            But when it came down to it; when the time for actual work came; where were they? In the end, only four people had turned up, and Jem realised that it had been pointless booking the computer room, as they all had laptop that were far better than the old, clunking machines that the council where providing.

 

            That night, as Jem sat up in bed, unable to sleep, typing away on some coursework for university, he wondered if he could still justify the youth project in his own mind. It seemed that they were getting nowhere, despite having been working on the project for almost a year. It was a shame, because there were a few people who were still really committed and enthusiastic about the idea, but Jem knew that they would not be able to do it on their own. And it was taking a lot out of him. As much as he loved working; connecting with the young people of the city of his birth, could he really justify travelling back every other weekend, just so he could babysit for some teenagers? He had other stuff to think about; he had his degree (only another year and a half to go!), he had Stella (he only had another four or five months with her; she would be leaving university, and his life, forever in the summer), he still had to find a job, and try and make some money, for god’s sake!

 

            He reached out to the windowsill by the bed for his bottle of cider. Damn, he thought to himself, it’s empty! There was no point going to get another; he had already had too much to drink that night, and although he had less than five hundred words to go with the essay, it was always that final push that was hardest.

 

            He looked out of the window for a while, drinking in the view. He was mesmerised by the orange glow of the streetlights; as he had for as long as he could remember. The cold dark night was even better because of the rain. Jem loved a good bit of rain every now and then, and at the moment, he loved the fact that he was not in the middle of it, but safely in bed, able to just sit there and watch as the water ran down the windowpane in winding rivulets.

 

            No, this is no good, he thought to himself. I need to get this done! “When the sometimes-nemesis and sometimes-lover of the main character is called Trevor, you know that you are in for something…unique. And that is just what you have with Æon Flux, an avant garde American science fiction animated television series that aired on MTV...” he tailed off, not sure how to continue. It would perhaps have been a good idea to follow what he had just written with some dates, but had lost the piece of paper with them on, and anyway, it was quite late, so probably a good idea to go to sleep.

 

            Of course, before he could turn everything off and settle down for the night, there would be no harm in checking Facebook just once more, just in case. I case of what, he was not quite sure, but he felt certain that if anything big had happened, then it would be on Facebook, and he wanted, nay, needed to know about it. He logged in, and, sure enough, just as he had expected, he had been poked by Stella. He poked her back, and had a look for anything interesting, but no-one had been online for hours, and it was all pretty much the same as it had been when he had last checked about four hours ago.

 

He closed the lid of his laptop, opened it again, pressed the power button to shut it down, and closed the lid again. When it had stopped humming, he moved it to the bedside table, and got into bed properly. He tossed and he turned for a bit, but he could not sleep for a long time. His mind was just too active, always thinking. What would it be like if Stella were here? Is anything going to happen? Is any of this worth it? But before he could work out any of the answers, he was, at last, asleep.