-
"Thanks Austin."
I could've said something more. Shown that I cared more. It's just that moment we get when we're in the moment. We don't think to say the things we actually wanted to say.
What I would've liked to say, I replayed in my head.
"Thanks Austin!! I didn't know you had such an appreciation for art! I'd love to see your work."
My head began to hurt. Why was I regretting what I said to him. Matter of fact, why did I even care about what I said to him? I didn't need to impress him.
Seas of people passed me while I froze at my locker. Some bumped into me, but I didn't really care. I pull some textbooks from out of my bag to into my locker to rid the dead weight.
That's all I'll ever be. Dead weight.
"Hey!"
I shut my locker door to reveal Garrett's face. I was too used to it, kinda bored with it. I didn't really know what was behind it. What he thought of. What he liked- what he didn't.
"Hey Garrett. What kinda bands do you like?"
"What." He chuckled, only half-way paying attention to me.
Of course, he's not the kind of person that understands me asking random questions to get to know them. Nobody ever understands why I do that. It's just a habit.
"Sorry, I just wanted to know what kind of music you were into."
"Oh, ummm..."
He was obviously taken back by the question.
"Rock? Yeah, rock I guess." His broad shoulder shrugged.
"So um, do you like The Ramones? Beatles? Or more modern, like Pearl Jam. I'm more of a Red Hot Chili Peppers or Nirvana person. Maybe on the grungy side-"
His friends dragged him back from me, leaving me to walk alone. I walked quicker into the crowd, pushing, shoving. Trying desperately to get out of it. I spotted Austin at the end of the hallway, sitting in the middle of the floor. He was blocking the entrance to the opposite hall.
What was he doing??
He was nose deep in a book. People were definitely pissed off.
"Take it easy!" He shouted at someone who shoved his whole body back. He collapsed out of his criss-cross legged position, dropping the book. I grabbed the book and kneeled down to his level.
'Vincent Van Gogh: Facts, Myths, Biographies'
"Got it from the library." Austin shouted up at me.
"Why are you reading it in the middle of the hallway??"
I gave him back the book, having to shout equally as loud as he did. We both had to shout over the crowd of distressed and yelling people. It scared me, the way these people weren't afraid to intimidate others. But he didn't seem phased by it.
"The ones who understand the expansion of art are the most observant. Look around us- all of this. Art."
I was sitting down with him now as he went on. His finger pointed to my shirt.
"Your clothes- art,"
Now his index finger pointed to a girl with hot pink hair.
"Her hair is art."
He gave jazz hands and waved them around.
"This whole building is art!"
I began to let out uncontrollable laughs. He was so laid-back, enthusiastic, funny. I thought the only side to him was his asshole side- especially in the car today.
He unfolded his smile, his breath stopping into tiny laughing fits with mine. We were now just 2 idiots in the middle of a busy hallway, laughing at nothing. Neither of us seemed to mind.
The bell screamed out into the echoing halls. Austin got up first, pulling me to my feet.
"Well, see you later I guess." He mutters, turning his back to me before I could say anything back.
I guess he remembered that we weren't technically counted as friends, with what happened and all. Why did it have to matter?
My next class was the most boring class I had. Math was taught by a pudgy, grey headed woman called Mrs. Wildebanks. She had what you call the "can I speak to the manager" haircut, she always wore black, and she managed to change her perfectly manicured nails every other week. This week's fingernail design was green with sequin butterflies on the thumbnails.
I walked in late, basically, knowing what I was in for. She stopped in mid-sentence, setting the purple dry-erase marker onto the ledge of the whiteboard. She lunged her weight to her other hip, letting her high heeled flip flop tap noisily onto the ground.
"You're late." Her high voice bellowed.
I gave her a nod, trying my best to seem respectful. Attention is something I always hate, but I always seem to get it for being late to her class. She raises the embarrassment and the punishment every time.
"See me after class."
Her words cut into my nerves like blades, making me nearly sweat. Teachers intimidate me more than the kids out in the halls. I made my way to the back- to my seat. Purposely, I picked the very back seat so I could avoid people at all costs. I guess I'm sort of introverted. I enjoy time to myself.
My back pocket vibrated against the plastic blue chair. I pulled out my phone and tilted it to the side, expecting to see a text from Garrett. We exchanged numbers last night when he snuck food into the guest room. His parents were home earlier than expected.
But it the name Garrett didn't light up across the screen. 'Dad' did.
"I need your ass home right now. You're getting me into a lot of trouble."
My heart dropped to my throat. Could I just avoid it? He didn't know where I was. He couldn't find me.
Ms. Wildebanks fell silent to the ring of her telephone. I followed her fake nails with my eyes- watching her fingers clasp the black phone, picking it up to answer it.
"Mhm. Yes. Sure"
I fidgeted in my seat.
She only spoke momentarily before hanging up, and looking me straight in the eyes.
"Rhiannon, you're checking out."
