Chapter Six: Secret Hideout

                                    

                                          
I gaped at him. What did he say? He believes me? Why? I was just forming a speech inside my head about this when he cracked a smile. I was confused. Why was he smiling? Is something funny? Does he find guardian angels funny? 
                          
Suddenly he threw himself back and laughed out loud. I was getting irritated now. Why is he laughing?! Guardian angels are supposed to be respected! Not to be laughed at! Silly human!
                          
I snapped my fingers to catch his attention and looked at him sternly. He noticed this and then stopped laughing, yet he was still smiling that silly smile of his. And something about this smile makes me want to smile, but, of course, I did not to.
                          
"Why are you laughing?" I asked, narrowing my eyes.
                          
"You fell for my act?" Patrick asked and chuckled. "I must be a good actor, then!" Then he looked at me, real serious. "You thought I would believe you? No, of course not. Who would believe on guardian angels? Angels aren't true. They're just, you know, art or paintings."
                          
I studied him. Is he telling the truth? Yes, of course. He must be. I take this as a sign. This is not the right time to tell him the truth. I would say the truth, of course, but this is not the right time. It's a lot to take in. 
                          
I just smiled. "Yeah, I was just joking," I said and we both laughed quietly. "Why wouldn't you believe in guardian angels? Because I do believe in them."
                          
"Can regular humans--and by regular I mean sane--see them?" Patrick asked. I shrugged and shook my head. "Well, then, they're not real. Seeing is believing, after all."
                          
"Can humans--and by humans I mean sane and insane--see the wind?" I asked. Patrick shook his head. "No? So why do you believe that the wind exists? You never saw the wind. So why do you believe that it really exists? After all, seeing is believing..."
                          
I raised my ice cream cup and took another scoop. Patrick was looking at me, maybe thinking about the statement I gave. Then he spoke. "The wind is different," he said. "We can feel the wind therefore we know it exists. Can we believe guardian angels exists? We don't even feel them caring for us. Because if they really are real, they wouldn't let the other humans die because of poverty. They wouldn't let the other humans suffer in pain. Why do they even exist if they will just watch the humans suffer in pain or die because of poverty? They don't deserve to exist."
                          
Patrick looked away and ate his ice cream in silence. I just stared down my ice cream. What should I say? I can't agree with him even though I want to. He's right, of course. Guardian angels like myself doesn't deserve to exist. Why would we? We'll just watch our humans suffer. We're going to suffer too by falling from Heaven to Earth. What's the point of existing? But I have the answers to this.
                          
"Can you imagine a world without suffering?" I asked him. "A world without people dying because of poverty? A world without people killing each other?"
                          
"Happy world, then," Patrick said, still eating his ice cream without looking at me. "A better world for the people. Happy people, happy government, happy environment, happy everything!"
                          
"No, Patrick," I said, shaking my head. "It's not a happy world. It's a cruel world, an evil world. Without poverty, everyone will be greedy and envious. We need these things to live a normal life, Patrick. Life is just something we borrowed from God. Life is a ride. God gives us a ticket and then we go and have fun. But in the end, we need to go. Do you understand me, Patrick?  Because this is very important."
                          
Patrick looked at me now, but all seriousness gone. My heart sank. He never listened to my lecture. Why would he? He's a typical teenager who doesn't listen to advices. "You're such a religious person, Kate," he said, laughing. "Just like Alice." He sighed. "I hope I could say the same about me being religious, but I'm not really."
                          
I sighed, copying his. "Let's go back to school, shall we?" I asked. "It's my first day and I'm already ditching classes. What would the principal think of me?"
                          
"The principal doesn't give a fuck," Patrick said, laughing and finished his ice cream. "I want to take you somewhere special."
                          
I finished my ice cream and we both walked outside the store. But instead of going back to school, we turned right. "Patrick, where are we going?" I asked, exasperated.
                          
"Somewhere I never took someone before," Patrick said, snatching my hand from my sides. "Except special people like Alice. But I think you're special. You and Alice have a lot of similarities. She always give me long lectures or advices about being religious, you know, but I really don't care and anyways..."
                          
His words drifted out of my brain. I wasn't listening to him. I was just staring at my hand enveloped to his. He's so manly, yet gentle. He's grip on my hand is not that hard, it was just a normal grip. And I can't help wonder that my hand looks perfect if he's holding it. I wasn't looking at our way as we were walking. After staring on my hand, my eyes went up to his face. He was still talking to me, yet I can't hear what he was saying. I was too preoccupied on his face. His gray eyes were looking at the way merrily and he was talking to me excitedly. Then he stopped talking and looked at me.
                          
"Are you listening to what I am saying, Kate?" Patrick asked.
                          
"What?" I said. "Ah yes! Yes, I am."
                          
"What did I say?" Patrick challenged, his eyes looking at me teasingly. I sighed and shook my head. He laughed loudly. "Yeah, right, you were really listening. I said I'm taking you on my secret place at the park."
                          
"Secret place?" I repeated. 
                          
"Yes, a secret place," Patrick said, his eyes looking at the way again. "When I was younger, it used to be my hiding place when Alice and I play hide-and-seek. Then we got bored on the game and I brought her to the place. She said it was awesome."
                          
"Why are you taking me there?" I asked. "You just knew me hours ago."
                          
"I remember Alice when I'm with you," Patrick said. "And somehow you bring back my memories of her."
                          
We stopped talking as we entered the park. It was a usual park, benches with lovers sitting down on it. Standing there, as Patrick held my hand, we look like lovers. Then he moved forward, and I followed him. We reached the back part of the park, with a big oak tree standing. "Check this out," he said and pointed to a writing on the tree.
                          
"'Patrick and Alice's Hiding Place'," I read aloud. "'Turn around and walk ten steps forward. Turn right and you'll see a small black gate. Never ever go there.' Hm, what a nice way of hiding your place! Writing it on a tree? Great."
                          
Patrick rolled his eyes. "The small black gate is covered in vines," he said. "The others thought it's just something they need to avoid. Not to me when I was young. Inside there, a lot of things happened. Mostly with Alice." We turned and walked forward. Sure enough, on my tenth step and when I turned right, there was a small black gate covered in vines. "Let's get in, shall we?"
                          
I nodded and he opened the gate for us to pass. Inside was just grass. No small houses for children. Only grass. Some pebbles, maybe. And a big wooden plank with two pillows. A couch, maybe? I smiled. "May I sit on your couch?" I asked politely.
                          
Patrick laughed. "Of course you may," he said. As I sat, he sat beside me. "It feels good to have someone with me here again." Then he turned to me. "And before I forget, please don't tell anyone about this secret place. If they find out that the super-handsome and super-popular football player in school has a hiding place, they would think that I'm a weenie or a baby."
                          
"Yeah, sure," I said. "I could keep a secret." We were silent for awhile then I decided this will be the real time for me to ask about his past. "Patrick?"
                          
"Hm?" he said, looking up at me.
                          
"Why do you sin?" I asked.
                          
"You wanted to talk about that?" Patrick asked and chuckled. But I just stared at him, not changing my expression. He noticed the seriousness of my face and so he stopped laughing. "You seriously want to know?"
                          
I nodded. "With all my heart," I said.
                          
"Fine," Patrick said with a sigh. "I'll tell you."
                          

                          
The song of this chapter is We Found Love by: Rihanna. :) Remember what I told you on the last chapter to don't mind my random songs? xD HAHA.