Him & I

29

"Four days till Friday!"  A ginger boy — curly red hair and a cardigan over his uniform, yells over the bell and in the hallway as he passes by my locker. He does that thing where you put both hands at the sides of your mouth to make your voice come out stronger and baritone.

It's going to be the sixth time. The sixth time today someone's choosing to disregard my ear-health by literally screaming whilst only being a few centimeters away from me, but it's fine.

Okay, it's not but I get it. At this time of the year, everyone's usually pumped for football season, and it's even more special this year since Tyler's on the team. Yet I'm really more excited for the review I'll be giving, how it'll be pasted up on numerous boards  in the hallways with my name signed at the bottom. I love staying low, however the little recognition, that ten second fame or you know, is highly appreciated. And usually has me goofy grinning on the inside whilst keeping a straight face on the out.

Well, I guess I'm also excited to see Tyler play too. Live. The last time I did, I had my sister -willingly, anyway- manipulate dad into letting us go all the way to New York for vacay. The plan was to stay in the front row, when the game was over, walk up to Tyler and say hi, see where things go from there. Nothing ever went on from there, obviously, as I obviously couldn't say hi. Though I did walk up to him. Which is worse when I think about it 'cause I ended up looking like tilapia out of water, not uttering a word, and he, of course, gracefully excused himself.

Now that's many years ago.

Bringing out four books from my locker —one belonging to my best friend, I hear my name called from across the end of the hallway.

The first time it's barely audible, and with the many conversations ongoing in the hall, it sounds too vague to be certain.

But then I hear it a second time, much closer. "Melissa!"

We find each other in the crowd, she's right by the stair case looking like she just raced down, and I'm, well still by my locker. Before I can say a thing, she's speed walking towards me while I just stand there, feeling a bit awkward since with the amount of people she has to corner, it's taking a while to get to me. And I'm still standing.

T has her long chestnut hair in a ponytail that bounces as she keeps walking over, all buttons on her blazer left open, exposing her extremely short tie. Steph has always joked about how T's hair should be on the cover of a shampoo, talked about how it could be a career path since T hadn't known what she wanted to be when the topic came up one day, but with how soft and shiny it looks especially now, I'm thinking Steph has a point.

On getting to me, she grabs my shoulders in both hands, "Hi."

"Hi..."

She lets out a giggle as she gestures for us to move closer to my locker to avoid being in the way. "Pamela told me that you're with her homework? Her Spanish assignment and that you could help me with mine."

"Oh. Oh, sure." I offer, checking the books in my hands for which one's Pamela's. When I find it, I hold it out to her already waiting hand.

"Could you also help check mine out— You're of Spanish decent right?"

"Yeah,"

"I've already done it but it'd be nice to get the approval of a Latina."

I blink. And choke on a laugh due to how she put it, but she's oblivious so I just shake my head, taking the note from her. My eyes skim over the opened page, it's only when I spot an error that I hold my hand out for a pen.

"Problem?" She squeaks, pushing her head under mine then moving away with a quick apology when her hair covers the page.

In a matter of seconds, I'm done adding things to that need to be added, and subtracting what never had to be there.