Friends

PART TWENTY-FIVE: POET

 Do I aspire to be a poet? I've been writing poems. When Wayne saw this hobby of mine, something must've occurred to him. After all, poems are a natural favorite of literature. If it's not being said, then so be it. "These are poems. My favorite literature," I said upon Wayne discovering pages on my bed.

"Poems. Love it," he looked at them, precisely.

I asked, "Did you listen to my poetry last time?"

"Well, that's the one I'm not sure about," he had an avid smile, pointing at me.

My pupils began to constrict, "Okay, here's some of my work." I handed most of my work to his palm.

He started to blink every flip of a page he saw, "There is lots of poetry here, Rode. Some of them have got to be me."

"What are you talking about? Of course not, but here are the poems I wrote recently," I tossed them in his hands.

Wayne's eyes flickered with agreement, "You're keeping them stored, aren't you? That's great, even better than I am."

"Keeping them is a hobby for me as I aspire to be an author."

"Then, include me in your inspirations," he flipped through the Adventure poem. "Isn't this the one you wrote for that contest? I do remember it. It's the one that almost everyone cried on."

"So, you do remember it. Just needed to stimulate that brain of yours."

His eyes were in contact with mine, "Did you find your essay this morning? You were worried about it."

"I haven't found it yet. Let me check the closet," I opened the closet and stumbled all over the drawers. "That is huge," he said.

"I know, right? Couldn't fit a bunch of clothes with a width like this."

I placed my hands around the top bunk, hoping to feel any paper. I was all over the place as I found the essay. "Here," I said, out of breath, "you can read it."

"I was waiting for you to say that," he smiled. "Oh, by the way, Mrs. Jude didn't come earlier so you still have the time to pass this one tomorrow."

"Sure, by all means."

"I'll force you to come to school with me," he said.

I chuckled, "Don't worry, I'll do it."

We slept through the night, I wouldn't say the same to him. He took over the side of the bed where the alarm was near his eardrums. I want to tell him "good luck," but not keep him for long as he snores. Snoring like a wild animal waiting for its rival at doom.

Wayne woke me up with a loud voice in the morning, "For Christ's sake, what is that?"

"Excuse my clock, it must've buzzed you out."

"It did," he said, scratching his ears. "Well, looks like I'll head to the showers first."

I stopped him, "What, me first?"

"Hey, no," he laughed. "Me first." We started to run as fast to the bathroom and Wayne got inside first. "You better hurry up or I will kick this door right up front," I said to him.

We both finished our daily routines but outside the door is the door of doom. Luckily, my parents always behave differently when I've brought somebody home.

Mom spotted Wayne as we both went out of the room, "Wayne, what brings you here?"

"I had the night at your house if that's okay," he answered.

"It sure is, Come have a seat, let's have breakfast," father said. "Next time, tell us if your friends are coming by," he said, looking at my forehead.

"Sure, dad," I rolled my eyes in a way he wouldn't see them.

Normally, they'll judge everything about me; weight, facial structure, daily hobbies, and foods I place on my plate. Acting all kinds—high and mighty not to destroy their reputation towards every other family. Let's see if all of this continues until the day I graduate.