If we are going to solve the madness of the world, we can start by respecting the human brain as an organic computer that works best with logic, emotion, creativity, and self-driven passion; though we have the capacity for random access memory, it is a poor way to educate and the reason our schools damage our innate genius capacities. This school is not a million bricks, but the thousand hearts who carry more dreams than the night sky has stars. This school is the emotions, our stories, and our love for each other. I hope you can see that through the stress-filled haze this thing called adulthood has you smoking. We aren’t the product, we are the reason.
I just finished my class, heading to the cafeteria to meet my friends, Embry called out. She is my best friend. As we got up, Riggs wave over, and mostly I am the hot topic.
″If Storm hadn’t told us we wouldn’t have known,″ Riggs muttered.
And that is Storm my cousin, tho we aren’t close.
″I’m going to say but I’m still convinced them I’m here on the summer break,″ I say.
″We have more plans, but everything will be in hover.″ As Dario emit a long breath being blue.
The orange-tinted skies blare over the locker, the students at Willow Creek are chattering in the hallway. Emry closed her locker, Riggs went to the football field to practice with Storm.
″You know Jago likes you right?″ She says. ″Why don’t you date him? He’s friendly and nice. He has a “magic” effect that makes people like him. He has intense infatuation since he voted you as the club president instead of voting himself. ″
I know that he has the chance to be the president of that club because of the major votes he gets. She ended up setting us on a date after school, and ask me if I could possibly meet Jago and she thought that I could help by talking to him. I agreed since I never turned down an opportunity to help people. I strictly only wanted to be friends as I thought that was the best way to start any possible relationship, and I’m not really used to meeting people and spending time with them. Isn’t supposed to look like a guy insinuating that he would like to sleep with the girl he’s with and to insist that he wants to through his implications. He’s not supposed to not show any interest in who she is as a person. I supposed to ask him any questions about family, and sports. I don’t know.
I have never been of a guy who thought that it was a waste of time answering my questions about him. I’ve never met anyone who wanted to know what I liked to read, what I liked to do, who didn’t make any assumptions about my possibly messaging a ton of guys and sleeping with them. No guy I’ve ever met on a ‘first date’ (I’m reluctant to call such a meeting a ‘date’; such meetings are what I would like to call ‘time-waste’) ever sees any human in me.
″I’m just stoic and nervous.″ He mumbled as he sits across my table.
I can see the crinkle of his eyes, the upturn of the corners of his mouth, with baring the teeth. I smiled.
Those initial few minutes are usually pretty awkward. I haven’t yet established a rapport, plus we’re both still getting ourselves settled. On top of that, I am probably trying to order food or drinks, struggling with what to talk about at the beginning of the date, though, there are plenty of unique to get to know him better.
He told me that he had bad relationships and that his last relationship broke him up a lot. He also said that he still felt bad about losing his brother only two summers ago (he was now an only child). He still hasn’t adjusted to not having siblings yet, he said.
The most nerve-wracking part of going on a date is trying to have an engaging conversation with someone I barely know. I know it can sometimes feel out of control — how can I be aware of body language and still act natural?
″You know that I am on cloud nine right now.″ He stated, ″And I don’t have the lungs, but I just want to say that from the beginning I laid my eyes on you-″
Wait, oh my god. Jago is confessing right now. What should I do?
I gaze at his eyes, as he waits for the perfect moment.
″I think you are a wonderful person, you’re attractive, but I’m not romantically interested in you and I’m not interested in dating right now, but thanks that meant a lot. I’m not even sure why.″ I said shrinking.
What did I just do? I rejected him.
Meeting someone new is a divine pleasure. Regardless of how things turn out, I love the dance that begins. The most important idea is to be able to get a true feeling for who they are over a few weeks and months without ever forming an opinion of them. You let them develop as an old polaroid photograph, nice and slow.
The awkward moment is when I see him in school the next day. Jago Perez is indisputable, he’s cool but lowkey. I saw that he has a quick glance in my direction.
″So how’s Jago?″ Embry asked.
I face toward the board and stared into space.
″I said that I am not interested in dating,″ I took out my notes and placed them on my desk.
″Why?″ She asked, stumble across her chair before our class will start.
I skipped my class and went home. Motioning against my bed, in my room as I placed my headphones in my ears, and turn up the volume. 5 seconds of Summer. You read it right! I love this band, pop-punk music, it was written like that. Their music makes everything simmer down. It’s two o’clock in the afternoon, I told Embry to save my excuse to my subjects. After a hectic day, being alone is a salve, a chance for true serenity to calm every part of my being. When I have been alone then sweet company brings balance, brings joy, and a renewed sense of wonder. We live in this equilibrium and there is wisdom in being in tune with these ebbs and flows of emotion.
My parents are away, they just often visit me twice a week to give me my allowance, or just to check me if I was doing okay. They are busy with their jobs, that’s why they want me to be with them during the summer break but instead, I want to spend the rest of it with my friends, who could ideally understand me. I’m used to it for the past two years already. I just eat some made-out cans of food, too much slothful to cook. If I have time I go to a restaurant, using Storm’s car if I can’t help it, but my parents told him to look after me. What am I a kid? I’m already fed up.
And I am seventeen and had no so much freedom at all, the major deal is when my parents found out that I was been jailed because of Walter, he doesn’t tell me that he possess illicit drugs, and his house was foray by cops. And that time my father charge me for being reckless and doesn’t allow me to spent a lot of time with my friends.
They bailed me out, and they fight because of me. I pulled down my headset and stared up the ceiling listening to my own heartbeat. Hugging my knees through my chest, took the window curtain away, and barely noticed the newly moved neighbor across our house. A green mini pine with stencils on the side.
I leave the house and went to Riggs hideaway. As I arrived, he is tattooing by his peer from the football team.
″You’re here,″ he grinned.
″They’re on their way. Do you want some?″ He uttered.
I have a second thought, and I think that’s cool my parents wouldn’t mind.
″Is that hurts?″ I give him an uncertain look.
″A little bit painful, but that’s how you recognize art, the same of those that go into paintings or sculptures.″
Later follows he got his tattoo, I tried to dye it in my under my collarbone, and handed me some brochures of designs. I tried to close my eyes, and he started puncturing my skin with needles and injecting ink, it feels like a prickling sensation and bee stings. As the needle moves closer to the bone, it may feel like a painful vibration.
″The hell, Sanders is that a scorpion tattoo?″ He chuckled,
″It symbolizes me, great strength and powerful sexuality,″ I say, after seeing my finished tattoo it is red and even slightly puffy.
Embry came over with her trucker, and I stood up from the chair.
″Sorry, if I’m not on time. My car was broken, bullishly a local guy helps me out.″ She mumbled.
I nod my head, she shows a beaming smile.
″So you have a tattoo, huh?″ She points out, motioning being cranky.
″Do you wanna tell something?″ I say pushing her to say what’s in her head.
″Okay, okay. That local guy is such a real badass, I’ve unheard of him. Maybe he is new fish.″ She stated. ″And I think I like him, don’t you think is he studying at Willow Creeks?″
I shrug, concerning her relationship with the guy who helped her. Normal thoughts barely formed in her mind before they were replaced with the melancholy longing and the fantasies of what could be if she were only brave enough to tell him. Food became like cardboard, chewy and laborious to eat. The sunshine had no meaning for him unless he could be with him. She daydreamed about every feature of his face, she recalled every way he had ever seen him, he had logged all of her quirky mannerisms to her brain.
By day this cafe is the color of supermarket oranges, it has that shiny look, and the jazz pours out of the open doors along with the aroma of fresh-baked lasagne. But now that it’s almost tomorrow and the light of the day has been replaced by the unrelenting blackness of night, the frontage is as grey as the smooth concrete sidewalk at my feet. I take in a deep breath, sucking in the air that carries a hint of dampness. It was as if her brain, had been program overnight, overridden. It was as if all her previous interests had been deleted and replaced with the image of her face and the sound of her voice. Embry didn’t blame her friends for being bored of hearing about him, the local guy she met. She was bored of herself too but her brain would supply her with nothing else to think about and she dwelled on how she would seduce him, make him hers, make him see they were soul-mates.
When words and thoughts are good anchors or control; when role models can become cages or keys; the wise support with wisdom and the foolish man becomes a king. There are no absolutes. Those who judge and weigh others by any scale are still wading in the waters of childhood; they have stunted their own intelligence. Any society run this way will become punitive and divided, caught in a negative spiral. Any idiot can condemn another, yet their judgment is only one of their own limited imagination.
I went up to school, did I tell you about the time I ran barefoot through the forest in my nightclothes because I knew for a fact that the demons were after me, chasing me? What a damp evening that was, almost twilight too, quite rough underfoot. Funny story, now that it’s old. I didn’t laugh much at the time though. It was as enjoyable as being chased by an ax-wielding murderer. I can still feel the way my heart almost exploded with the strain and my lungs felt like they’d been given an acid bath. And then there was the psych nurse “gang rape” at the end of it, clothes ripped off, male onlookers, forced face down for an injection.
Embry stared into the cheap mirror, it wasn’t even a glass. All she could tell from her reflection was that yesterday’s coiffured up-do was more like a bird’s nest. I take my jacket off and place it in the cloakroom, my cheeks rosy. The air has a cinnamon perfume and already the room is mostly full.
Classrooms were once places of fear, it’s hard to believe that now, we humans weren’t meant to be compliant; we have strong hearts and strong wills. We aren’t supposed to blindly follow and be told what to think. We are supposed to use our strong hearts to love and our curious minds to drive us to learn, to seek new answers, to boldly explore. We are nobody’s trained monkeys.
Our teacher walks in, and he’s with a student in our first class. Embry is gawking as she stares at the guy who stood in front of the class.
″I’d like you to meet Mr. Jasper Price, he will be your schoolmate, he’s from Amazing Alaska, would love you to get to know more about him.″ The teacher long introduced.
″Oh my god, Sanders, he’s the one. I’m telling you.″ She nudges my elbow.
He tends to end up overlooked. He is in appearance and behavior. Introverted, quiet, and in some cases, he is extremely shy. Most would probably just describe him as ‘your typical boy’. On the surface, no one extraordinary. Just a minor character in the cast of your life. That’s why has a crush on him.
Something else that is overlooked: his appearance. You won’t notice if you don’t look quickly, since he won’t draw attention to himself with loud words or loud clothing. But his face is something special. His features are balanced and his skin is clear and smooth. His hair is soft, and so are his eyes. Well basically, Price has his modest smile that makes your insides churn.
The bell rang, we just finished the first part of the class, and just Embry can’t get out of her head that new transfer. I accidentally met Jago once I roamed in the school hallway, it’s kinda pretty awkward after what happened on our date, I guess it’s okay to feel awkward, I’d rather feel that way and be real than any other. The authentic me loves deeply, laughs often, and cries at the sorrow of others. I get emotionally attached and show my soul as if it were a movie... but hey, that’s me, wearing “awkward” as if it were my own exclusive label.
Jago had his legs crossed and was tapping his ballpoint pen on the table, his hair was even neater than usual and his suit was new. I pulled out a chair and looked up from my phone, smiling in that tense way he did when he was about to vent. I felt painfully out of place, I couldn’t look at him well inside the room.
Stood up, and heard some voice singing in the lockers. It’s him, Mr. Price. Wait is that 50 seconds of Summer? I also heard him humming and singing few lyrics coming from his headphones. It kinda makes me impressive, he likes it too. I didn’t notice I already walked toward few inches in his direction.
″5 seconds summer?″ I asked while he placed his things in the locker area. A piece of paper fell on the ground from his locker, and it says Willow Creek Football team. Join us!
He answered blankly.
His face is something special. His features are balanced and his eyes make your heart skip a beat. His behavior is introverted, my eyes lit up.
″You’re antisocial,″ I say, he gives me narrow eyes.
″What?″ He shut his locker and motioning turn his face toward my way.
″No, I just say, you were really outspoken.″ I shrug both my shoulders.
He replied with a sparing smile.
″I’m not, just living a reticent life, ━ Sanders.″ He walked away and left me dumbfounded.
Holy moly, what was that? Did I embarrass him? He looks humiliated, neither.Start writing here…
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