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chayeah22

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            Law ran up behind me as I entered the back door to the school.

            “Rose, hey, wait up!” he said. I’m was a little shocked but not mad at him. It actually made me feel good someone had stood up for me.

            “N…n…no one’s ever done that for me.” I stutter. We stood at the end of the halls by the vending machines.

            “I don’t know what it is, but you are special to me. You’re funny, smart, and original. I’m none of that. I’m just a weird guy who likes to draw.” He admitted.

            “I think you’re awesome, Law! I don’t care what anyone says. You are a really cool friend. That is if you want to be my friend?” I eyed him hopefully.

            “You know it!” he smiled. “Now come on! Let’s see what this school serves for lunch.” We walked down to the front of the school and then down the incline to the lunchroom.

As a child I never understood why the cafeteria was on a different level than the school but it was one of the things that made East Blocton an unusual place. Lining the walls of the incline there were a sea of faces of graduates past. From 1957-2004 I could see the schools history. It actually felt good knowing one day my face would be up there with the rest of the class of 09’.

Law pushed the red doors of the lunchroom open and held it for me. We went inside. They were serving pizza. I could smell it in the hall but couldn’t place the smell in my memory. We got our food and then we played the “Which clique do we sit with game?”

In the far back table the emos sat glumly experiencing sudden attacks of flying

French fries from the next table occupied by the jocks. Never far from the jocks were the preps and normal kids who mingled.

            The band geeks and drama nuts sat near the door. I saw a hand wave at me. It was Kathi.

            “Rose! Come sit with me!” she yelled. I looked at Law and he nodded. We joined them.

            These kids were just plain annoying I learned after a few minutes. Band practice and church were all they talked about I was uncomfortable and Law was too. He picked at his pizza.

            One guy named Kyle, who had a feminine voice but who denied being gay, talked to Law.

            “So Bones, I heard you broke into Megan Hoffman’s house this summer. Find anything interesting?” he pried. I couldn’t tell if it was a cruel form of sarcasm or seriousness.

            “Yeah, Kyle, actually I did.” Law jested.

            “Oh? Really? And what was that?” he asked.

            “I found a pair of underwear with the name Kyle Zimmerman on them in her brother’s bedroom. That name sound familiar to you?” Law said half glaring. Kyle got quiet. Law got up, threw his tray away, and left the room.

            “The nerve of that guy! Everyone knows Kyle’s not gay. He’s dating Jaycee Mooreland from Woodbrooke. I hope he never sits with us again. He’s a fucking psycho.” Kathi said. I got up with from the table with my tray.

            “And neither will I.” I said to Kathi. I threw it away and went in search for Law. I didn’t know where to look but coming up the incline I heard a lone basketball in the gym. I looked in. It was Law.

            Every shot he made was perfect, hoop after hoop. He ran madly around the goal, dribbling, and mumbling to himself. I walked in and watched. He missed a shot and the ball rolled toward me. I caught it and walked towards him. He was sweating profusely.

            “I didn’t know you could play.” I said.

            “Yeah, I was on the team at the school I went to before Woodbrooke.” He said.

            “I’m pretty good at it too.” I said standing at the free throw line. I looked at my target, aimed, and jumped, kicking my leg up in the back. The ball soared and went in the net with a SWISH. 

            “Wow.” He said speechless. “Have you ever played for a team?”

            “No. My grandpa out up a goal in our back yard and I learned with my brother.” I told him.

            “You should try out.” He encouraged me. I shook me head.

            “I’m not that good.”

            “It takes lots of practice. You know,” he said walking to me, “you don’t have to kick your leg back every time you shoot. He got behind me, raised the ball in my hands and positioned them. “Aim, bend, and release.” He said. I did as he said and I made a perfect goal. I smiled at my accomplishment.

            The bell rang at that instant.

“Damn bell.” He groaned. We walked back to the Ag shop for the last twenty minutes of class.

“Tomorrow at lunch, do you want to sit alone?”