Bag Check; a short story

1- Thursday

I take steps, and they become closer together. I take in the situation around me. I'm walking towards the street, while on the sidewalk.

People walk past me, making me feel self conscious about the steps I am taking and whether or not they're too fast, or if they're too slow. Maybe I'm slow and everyone else walks in a normal pace. Or maybe I'm walking normally, but everyone is walking quickly. Most likely, I am walking fast, but everyone around me walks faster. It's complicated.

My eyes dart from one place to another, planning out escape plans if things go south. I could pace down the street, keeping my hand in front of me to block cars, or I'd likely just run back towards the park. But what if they attack from the back, or more realistically, I'm too afaid to move or I've accepted my own death. I gasp, inhaling from all the words I've thought and trapped inside my brain.

I take steps and stop. I've not even realized I'm stuck in the courtyard of my school.

I walk over to my group, gripping my phone in my hand. My mind traces back to the conversations I'd had the very last night.

February 26th. The day one of my old friends, Ryan, had decided to text me for the first time in like a year.

I remember being at a drug store at the time, looking for things to do. My phone buzzed and I looked strangely at the new name in the phone. I opened the message and chuckled.

Ryan: Drug dealing is hard.

Ryan: Wrong person.

I laughed and played along. He caught on and we were messing around for an hour. I waiting in anticipation in the cereal aisle for his next text.

Ryan is my age, black wavy hair, sweet, and adorable... and I'm drooling on my shirt. I wipe away my salivated mess and look at his next message.

I grin at the memory, and know he probably will not text me this early in the morning. We text and spend hours doing so but haven't said a full sentence to each other since the last grade.

His voice is lovely. He sounds mature for his age. His voice isn't deep, but it's soft and sweet. I remember almost banging my head against the lockers because I was completely mesmerized by it. He sounds like a good dream, followed by tea and cookies.He sounds like the knots in my stomach undoing themselves right inside me. He sounds like he's in a band, and like an edgy, husky, teenager.

I'm blabbing. No, I don't have a crush on him!

I find it hard to understand who I like and what I prefer. I've seen girls so pretty that your eyes fall out of your head, but he's just so..

"Wendy, you're drooling." Natalie says and I quickly cough, almost drowning in my own embarrassment.

I grip my phone even tighter and wait and wait and wait for the day to pass by faster. I want it to all pass by and lift me off my feet.

I close my eyes in angst, and open them and sigh. "So long, and goodnight." I whisper to myself.

It is very silly, really. Crushes are for plain, simple girls. I am extremely far from simple. I wish I was simple. I wish life was simple. I wish everything was simple and easy, but because I am the way that I am, it is not really possible. I play with a strand of my hair.

I grab the strap of my backpack and grip onto it. I know to be careful when exiting the school because most of the chaos happens after class ends. Everyone is rushing to get out the door, almost pushing everyone down in order to have a better chance at leaving. Some people need to get out earlier than others. I am the other.

The day passed by slow. It did the opposite of what I needed. I'm quick to rush out the classroom door, down the stairs, and out the main entrance to the school. I practically zoom past the bag check and trot down the street, and on my way home. I must have broken the sound barrier from how fast I was trying to get home.

It's a relief to be rid of all the tainted air. I breathe the same air as every other living being in the building, and I'm absolutely sick of it. I breathe in the air inhaled by many, but none that I know well enough to taunt me. I'm finally free from the smell, and the taste? Of the school. The chaos and the loudness of it all. I want to trap myself in a bubble,

of my own air.

I jiggle my keys in front of me as I'm beginning to unlock the front door to my house. I'm the first one to come home so I'm not bothered.

I strip myself of the uniform I'm required to bring to school and slip into something way more comfortable- a t-shirt, and some shorts. I plop myself onto my bed and pull out my phone.

I click onto one of the apps, and check all my notifications until I reach the final one- a text from Ryan.

I almost wait until I slide open the chat. I want to, but I do not want to.

I slide it open.

A blue message pops up from him. I am relieved it is friendly. Most people text me to show me stuff, or gossip. Send me chain emails and downright just bother me. He seemed different,

Special.

He had told me many times that I was special to him, and sometimes I believed him. Maybe I believed him to give myself a better chance, or to not hurt my own feelings.

Flirting was just the tip of the ice burg.

It was not a big ice burg, but it was an ice burg.