The park
I like being here on this park bench. The wind gently blowing my light-brown, wavy hair out of my face, as I do my daily observing of individuals’ daily activities; “people-watching” as some people call it. My green eyes scan the park looking for anything interesting. Finding only a couple children and a lady walking a dog, I let my eyes close and tilt my head back letting the warmth of the sun and spring air envelope me.
The best part of homeschooling was that I could go do whatever I wanted, and do school whenever and where ever I wanted. I rise from my spot on the park bench and glide down the sidewalk, passing trees and people who nod to me as I pass. Going at five miles per hour, I make my way toward my favorite coffee shop.
When I am barely a half mile away from the shop, a voice calls out. “Hold it right there young man.” i pause feeling a mix of confusion and annoyance and turn to the guy who called to me “Uh-“ I start to utter but I’m cut off. “I’m just about sick of you little troublemakers busting out of school.” I fix my eyes on the old, greying man to prevent me from rolling them. “Sorry to confuse you sir, but I’m homeschooled.” I said with a smile and a respectful tone. He opens his mouth ready to argue, but I resumed my light run and ignore him. The coffee shop isn’t much farther.
Finally, I make it. “Coffteas” The blue and purple neon sign that blead through the early dawn light reads. I have to wait 5 minutes for the traffic to slow enough for me to cross the road since there aren’t cross walks in my small town. Looking both ways a billion times, I cross to the small parking lott, which is too small for the busy place, and go into the busling building.
The inside of the shop has beige walls with black support beams, vaulted ceilings, and the decorations are a mix of hiphop posters and plants. “Hey nel.” Says My brother, who was the manager, standing next to a very angry looking woman. “Hey clark” I responded. He is wearing the beige apron with the coffteas logo on its breast pocket and a green shirt underneath. He got this job two years ago when he was seventeen; he had good luck with his boss who gave him enough promotions to work there through college.
I order my drink from Austin the cashier and sit down on one of the green-cushioned beige stools. I observe the coffee shop. It was full of your typical college girls getting a drink inbetween classes; a few of them had drug their boyfriends along. Over about three stools from me, I notice about five teenagers with sweaty faces and armpits. They must’ve been running along the sidewalk. When I saw their backpacks sitting next to them everything with the old man clicks. The old man must’ve saw cornelius’s backpack and thought he was one of them. They must’ve been causing trouble, or maybe they were minding their business and the old fart had been the one causing problems about it. “who knows?” I mutter and shrug. “Do you even realize how creepy that is?” Savanna asks a smile in her voice as she does. “Apparently not.” He responds. Savanna was a tall smart girl that Clark had met in college; they have a thing going on, but I can’t tell what exactly. I only see them together at work, which doesn’t exactly give me enough detail on their interactions. “Alright well, heres your drink.” She sighs handing him the drink. “Much thanks.” I say. I pull my backpack off of my back and reach in for my laptop. Setting it down on the counter, I open it and pulled up my schools website.
Two hours later I was done. I went to order another drink to shake off the metal drainage, when I notice those same teens were still here. They rose from their seats and lined up behind me. Feeling a trickle of nervousness, I order one of my more complicated orders, as to not seem basic to these random people I’ve never met before and will most likely never see again. “Hey, you from our school to.” Asks one of the teens. My eyes widen at the fact I might have to make conversation with people whose opinions I might actually care about. I turn to the person who asked the question a fit dark-skinned girl a bit taller than my 5’9 height. “Nah,” I mentally slap my self at how stupid that probably sounded but continue with, “I’m homeschooled actually.” “Oh,” she nods, “I just feel like I recognize you.” “I get the same feeling.” Says a tall, athletic white guy to her left, “You play any sports at all.” Another thing clicks they’re all athletes; I mean, they all have the build for it. “With friends not on a team or anything.” I say, but by friends i mean my brother and his friends. “Perfect, well you should try out for our team. We just got a new opening.” The girl says. I glance at the guys and notice the inconsistency, Three girls but only two guys “What sport.” I ask her. “Volleyball.” She responds. “Great, I love volleyball!” I didn’t mention that my skills are mediocore. “Good then, I’m Amari the team captain. We are a co-ed team we need three boys and three girls to compete. Try outs are at 3:30 pm at the rocksan highschool volleyball court. I’ll see you there.
