Jesse

5: Conversations

5: Conversations

Anatomy ended up being the only class I had with Ian, which I thought was enough, considering the luck I had any classes with him at all. Since we did have class together, I also figured he was a senior and most likely eighteen too, or seventeen one. I didn’t ask though.

Not much was said between us through Mr. Klien’s lecture on the skeletal system. There was a silence. Comfortable. Something I could use to.

Surprisingly, the class was over before I knew it. I rubbed my eyes, feeling extremely sleepy.

“Tired much?” Ian asked as we got up, collecting our stuff.

I laughed. “I almost fell asleep. It’s so damn boring.”

He chuckled too, and I could see the undoubted agreement in his eyes. We headed for the door out, with everyone else. When we stepped into the noisy hallway, I turned to him.

“So what’s your next class?”

“I’ll have to check my schedule, again.” He rummaged through one of his short’s pockets, and pulled out the crumpled piece of folded paper. He smoothed it out, and glanced over it.

“Spanish with Porquez,” he muttered.

“Oh, that’s close to my math class,” I said. “I have him for last period. It’s this way.”

I turned right, and he followed me; we began to walk beside each other, silent. The same, relaxed quiet.

…

“So what do you think of Breckenridge Hills?” I asked with a coy smile, after taking a drink of my Cola.

Ian’s nostrils flared, and he scoffed, “It’s alright.”

“More like shitty,” I said still smiling. We were sitting at my round lunch table, and it happened that Ian also had the same lunch. I was already sitting down, and I saw him coming out of the pizza line, carrying his tray. I didn’t call for him, or anything like that. He just continued to walk, and sat down in one of the empty chairs.

I didn’t say hey. I didn’t even smile. I was still new at this. This friend thing. And I wasn’t sure if we were even that. Just neighbors. I remained silent, like always.

Ian didn’t say hey, either. What he had said, was this:

“This is some shitty-looking pizza.”

I laughed, cracking a smile. It had become used to the stares by now. I looked away occasionally, and caught a few lingering stares toward me. There were the usual preps, popular girls, but then there was another stare that made me curious. It was from a girl with dark red hair, who I hadn’t really noticed before. She sat with a couple of other friends. Her face was round, pale. She seemed shy, by the way she sat. She immediately downcast her eyes when I caught hold of hers. There was something different about her stare. I ignored her.

“It’s not so bad,” Ian went on. “I mean, I thought we were moving to St. Louis—but—”

“You ended up here?” I finished for him, more curt than I planned on being.

“Yeah, guess you could say it like that,” he said, grinning, color brightening his face.

“What it like…in New York City?”

“Very different,” he answered, “it’s a different world, there. It was sort of a shock moving down here. But…” His eyes drifted to the cafeteria windows, and he sighed. “I’m sort of used to it by now.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve haven’t stayed in the same place for over three years,” he explained, a muted aggravation in his voice. “My family has move over eleven times. Eleven. It’s ridiculous…It’s funny…” He opened his mouth, as if to continue, then stopped.