Wally (#wattys2016)

ii. the invitation

The next day couldn't have gone any slower, which seemed impossible yesterday but hey, it did go slower today so I really have nothing to say. The loud, deafening but glorious bell screamed across the whole building and out the animals ran loose as if they were all locked in a cage for seven hours - which was true. I walked out of my seventh block, Calculus, and sighed, looking at all the people running towards the back door to the parking lot. Nope, not today. I decided to just start writing my B.S English paper in the library because if I left the building right now to the parking lot, I would very most likely be stuck waiting for an hour or so to get out. I don't want to deal with all the irate, impatient high schoolers trying to leave school grounds. I'll just wait until 2:30 or something and then leave, but until then, the library it was.

I walked inside the school library, which was deserted as usual. No one came in here - only the kids who actually cared about school and grades, which was a very low percentage of the people attending Pennington Heights High School - especially my senior class. I smiled politely over at our school librarian, Ms. Wallace. She was this young lady in her late twenties who wore absolutely no makeup and always wore bland, dull cardigans with dresses. She was very pretty, in my opinion and she looked like she couldn't hurt a fly. She rarely spoke and always had a new book to read every day, maybe being a librarian was her calling. Huh. I wonder what my calling is. I can't just study the stars and actually get a job having to do with the stars. My parents want me to go to Yale or Harvard - become a lawyer or doctor, they have such high expectations for me. But I don't think I'll ever make them happy. Maybe I should write about that in my essay. I am a poor, pitiful eighteen year old Valedictorian who will never make my parents happy, no matter how hard I try - now that just sounds like a horrible sob story that even I don't think I want to type up. I signed in and found myself an empty table in the far corner and sat down, pulling out my laptop and preparing to bs the crap out of the essay.

But when I opened up the Microsoft Word document, my mind drew a blank. I started by typing my name on the right corner. Wallace Dennis. I was just about to type 'Block 5' on the page when I suddenly heard someone clear his throat - I'm assuming a guy because it sounded more masculine. I could be wrong. I looked up and saw Arnie standing right beside me, smiling down at me. "Hey ... Arnie, what's up?" I asked awkwardly.

"Hey, Wally. I was just wondering if you wanted to come over tonight? I'm having a little get together with the boyz - with a z." I kid you not, he seriously said 'with the z'.

"Oh, sorry, Arnie, but I'm busy tonight." It was a lie. "It's the Thursday Ritual I have with Miles - we play video games every Thursday." It was half a lie - Miles and I had our weekly Thursday Ritual where we played video games all day long but he had a family thing to go to so today was canceled. So, I wasn't completely lying. Arnie looked down at me with sad eyes. Gosh, I felt like I just punched a baby or something.

"Oh, okay. Thanks, anyways, Wally." Arnie said softly as he walked away with his head hanging low. Wow, way to make me the bad guy, Arnie.

I know I sound like a jerk, but the thing is, I've gone to several of Arnie's little get togethers and they were all weird. Whenever I go to one of those, all the weird math geeks come over and play math games all night - they also talk about Brain Camp. They even try to find out the freaking area and circumference of the food Arnie hands out. One time, we spent a good two hours just sharing each other's collection of rulers and calculators. Well, I can't say we because I didn't partake in such a strange ... hobby. I left that night and vowed to never go back again. Anyways, that's why I declined his offer. I just didn't belong in that group.

I sighed and glanced down at the empty page. Where do I start? See, even bs-ing this essay was challenging. Just as I wrote down 'Block 5' - since Arnie interrupted last time - I heard someone clearing their throat again. I inwardly groaned and rolled my eyes with frustration. "Arnie, look I'm sorr--" I finally looked at the person standing before me and almost felt the air get knocked out of me.