Sand Man

Part One

Chapter 1

"Next," she calls. I know that means me. I tap the edges of my note cards together on the desk, rise to my feet as the metal tangle of legs reposition on the bare floor, and make my way toward the front of the room.

Moisture collects in the creases of my hands, wetting the corners of the cards. I touch the wooden stand when I get there and quietly clear my throat. Everything feels hot; but I know that's just because I'm nervous. I take a deep breath and look out at my crowd. Some twenty other teenagers-hoods over their eyes, music playing in their ears, and dirty shoes propped onto the desks around them. Deliberately uninterested. The last speaker wanders back to his desk without a hurry, making me wait longer.

"Move us." The teacher had said last week, describing the purpose of this final speech. "Say something that could change the way we think, or the way you want things to be."

While the majority of the class voiced their disapproval for this final evaluation, her eagerness somehow resonated with me. I thought and still think, having something to believe in wouldn't necessarily be bad. In fact, I'd change a lot of things if I could.

I clear my throat again, this time a little louder.

"Dragons, bullfrogs and baseballs. That's what little boys think about." I begin loudly.

My voice pitches, still giving me fits at nearly eighteen, and some of the kids shuffle in their seats. My ears get red hot and my eyes go straight back to the cards.

"But what do they dream?" I continue, "What do they hope for? And are all our dreams the same? Logically we all have different dreams, but doesn't everyone want to just feel like they matter?"

I accidentally lock eyes with a girl in the back row, Emily. She's the only other kid in the class that was here before everything changed; the rest of them came here after.

Maybe she understands what I'm saying, maybe she's ...moving.

I go on, "Like, what we do matters, what we say matters, and our one life is important."

I look around for more eyes, but no one else in the room is watching. Not even the teacher.

"We want to be known for something, for anything, yet we,' I point to myself and the empty desks of the front row, "are growing up forgotten. Some say it's because, 'Things are just different now.' But that's bologna. Things have always been changing, that's how life works. Things happen and we have to adapt. And just because my dream as a little boy isn't going to happen, it doesn't mean I have to give up on everything. What I think is, everyone is supposed to do something important while they're here. Not just walk around until you're dead. So come on people, wake up!"

My words make Emily uncomfortable, her head turns toward the window to stare off at something better outside. Nobody else moves at all.

I drop the notecards into the trash and stagger back to me seat.

I hadn't even made it to the last card.

I sit in silence until the end of the day bell tolls and everyone shuffles toward the door. I stand and take my place among the rest of my entirely uninvolved generation.

"Hey, man." A voice speaks from behind me and I turn to see that it's Rosco. He's a lot louder than the rest of us, but he only talks to you if he needs something. He greases his hair back and it reminds me of one of those Ken dolls with the flashy smile.

"Dragons? Is that the best idea you got to save us?" He musters a laugh and walks off into the hallway.

It's crowded and the temperature inside is smoldering hot. Both add to my overall regret for even coming to school today. New Hope High is a total joke anyway, it's not like we're learning anything.