Long-Distance Calls

12

The next day, at school, the first class was once again English, and, once again, Andrew sat near to Amber and Josh while I sat near Erasmus.

Ms. Wyatt let everyone read their text. Andrew's was "too superficial", Amber's was "really good", Josh had "forgotten his copybook".

Amber seemed to be the scholar type (not as much as Killian Maddox though, a guy who looked like a proper nerd, who wrote a two pages essay) while Eramsus seemed to be the struggling type, just like me.

I felt pretty dumb the whole time I read my text, and I wondered how Andrew felt, given how many times I wrote his name in there.

Somehow, all I could think about was that afternoon, when Evelyn and I were going to watch Spider-Man.

Ms. Wyatt said my text was "okay" and that I could have "written a bit more", but honestly that's all I needed.

As long as it wasn't bad, I didn't really need it to be good.

When the bell rang and we walked out of the class, I put my glasses on the collar of my shirt.

"Hey Pete!" Amber approached me through the hallway, all smiley.

"What's up?" I wrinkled my eyes to focus my glasses-free vision.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" she asked, clearly noticing what I did.

"It's because I can't see much without glasses..." I felt my face blushing.

"So why don't you put them on?" She rightfully asked, looking at them staring vertically at her from the collar of my shirt.

"Because I'm afraid to look stupid..." I felt nothing but embarrassment.

"That's nonsense!"

"Go tell everyone that made fun of me," I said with a muffled smile.

"So why don't you try contacts?" She asked, putting her freezing hand on my shoulder as we kept walking through the hallway.

"I can't put them on. They're too complicated to..." I sighed, "You know what? I actually never even tried. I'm scared of trying new things. Whether it's an activity or food or whatever. And I'm scared of looking stupid while struggling to put them on the first time." I don't know why I said all that. She looked like someone I could trust. Someone I could talk to.

"Jesus, boy. You care too much about what people think of you."

"Yeah," I said, nervously touching my glasses, still on the collar, "I can't help it."

"How about Carpe Diem, uh?" She looked at me with her brown eyes. They inspired desire to live and get drunk and do crazy shit in me, somehow, "That's kind of how I live."

"So Kafka is but a last name for you, uh?" I said with my timid voice.

She giggled and reached for Josh.

I stared at her from behind for a bit. Her hair was crazy, but unique. She was wearing a black leather jacket and some tight black pants.

I must say, she did have a nice ass.

While in this meditation, I was approached by Andrew.

"Stop it," he said to me, "Now."

"Stop what?" I asked, a more masculine and deep voice took the hesitant voice's place.

"Talking to her," he explained, trying to sound intimidating, "She's mine."

Everyone entered the class, I was about to, but I stopped right by the door, impeding the way for Andrew too, and I said, "Listen, mister. I'm not hitting on her. I'm just trying to make some friends. Besides, she's not yours. So stop being such a pain in my ass."