The story... finally
I still need a title... so read and enjoy
There she was, just standing in the middle of the lunchroom. Her hair came down to her shoulders like an auburn waterfall, with one or two strands always just getting in her face. Green eyes looked nervously from table to table, with an expression on her face that looked like she was choosing her poison. She tried to smooth out her mini-skirt, but it’s pretty hard to do with a sandwich in one hand and iced tea in the other.
“Exhibit A, the new kid.” I snapped out of my stare at her to see Alex, looking up from trying to float a chip in Kool-Aid. I never really knew why Alex always had Kool-Aid on him, but it was always around, and red. I noticed that too. It was just one more reason why I like the guy. His curly, black hair stood up in an afro, but there wasn’t a whiter person you could see for miles. Tall and lanky, he was always there to think about the world with you, furrow his bushy eyebrows and just muse. “Lost, nervous action, new clothes, that’s a new kid alright.”
“So we know it’s a new kid, big deal? This school can get a new person once in a while, so why do you have to size each one up like a piece of meat?” Heather exclaimed, openly annoyed. This happened routinely at the lunch table. Alex thinks, Alex makes a comment, Heather yells at him. Alex was the only one who would have the guts to argue with a girl like her. Blond haired and blue-eyed, Miss Heather Black had looks that could kill, and tongue used as the weapon. She now holds the record for turning down the most boys at a single dance, different ways, and all making leave with their tails between their legs, and some random kid yelling out “Oh snap!” That kid would usually be me, but still, it was a fulfilling job.
“It’s just what I do,” Alex said, taking a bite out of his sandwich. “Just like how Cam always yells out ‘Oh snap!’ every time you turn down a guy, isn’t that right, Cam? Cameron? CAMERON JIMMY EISEN! Stop staring at the new girl and back me up here.” I whipped around my school-issued seat so find them staring at me strangely.
“Oh right. Sorry, I was just…uh…staring at the…vending machine.” I mumbled. “Will you to ever stop fighting? You two even fought in 1st grade, something about a dead fish in the water fountain.”
“It was a fish!” Heather yelled with turkey sandwich in her mouth, getting most of it on a monitor standing near by. “I saw it shimmer and floundering around and it defiantly smelled like it too!”
That should keep them busy for a while, I thought to myself. I looked back up to in front of the registers, but she was gone. I looked everywhere around the lunch room, but I didn’t see her.
“Hey, Cam, what’s up with you today? You look like your looking for your lost dog or something, but because if you are, try yelling out its name, like so.” Heather stands up and starts whistling and yelling out “Here, Fido! Come here, Fido! Here boy!” which got us some awkward glances.
“I’m not looking for anything, really.” I said, leaning back on my seat. Next thing I know, I am on my back with Grape-Aid spilled across my shirt, hands, and face, and clapping and laughter echoing off every single tile in the whole place. It takes me a second to realize they are laughing at me, so I do the only thing that comes to mind. I pick myself up, take a bow like the showman that I wish I were, and break into a sprint out the double doors and into the bathroom near the theater.
* * * * *
“Except for that time with the crazy glue, I’ve never seen fingers more sticky,” I thought aloud to the bathroom, as I tried my vain attempt to get all the Snapple, and embarrassment, off my hands.
I always liked something about this bathroom, even though it really was just like any other bathroom in the rest of the school. There were grey and blue tiles, sinks that never give you the water pressure you want, and writing about how the teacher suck and crushes for the few weeks they happen. Maybe it was on the back of the last stall, there was a carving of the whole song of Colt 45, made from the sharp end of a mechanical pencil, signed with the name of Slick Willy. Or, was it the fact that I found $10 dollars on the floor of it one time… I don’t remember. Anyway, I couldn’t found a better hiding spot after this.
“Fucking water pressure,” I grumbled as I looked into the sink, and, because of the idiot I am, getting my face soaked by a rush of freezing cold water.
I reach for some part of my sweatshirt, which has no stickiness on it, and start to dry my face off. Around this time, the door opens, and in comes the biggest man you would ever see wearing a pink polo shirt. Actually, scratch that, the biggest man you would ever see, who just likes wearing pink polos a lot. So, the sight I see when I get my sweatshirt of my face is some enormous thing wearing a pink shirt.
“Hello Mr. Larson…sir.” I added on “sir” just to make sure that I won’t be broken in half this fine afternoon. “What a pleasure to see you in the bathroom… where it was possible for you to snap me over a sink without many people noticing…” From the way this day was going, I wouldn’t have been surprised if I had peed myself right there.
“Oh, Cameron! I’m glad I saw you here!” replied the thing in the pink polo in a voice that would fit a thing in a pink polo “There was this really hilarious thing that just happened in the cafeteria that just reminded me of you. See, there was kid, in a sweatshirt just like yours, who was leaning back in his chair. And then he…”
“Fell backwards and spilled Grape-Aid all over himself?” I pretended to guess.
“Actually, that’s what happened,” said Mr. Larson, utterly confused.
“Just a lucky guess, I suppose,” I said quickly. I really did not want this man to be anymore confused that he already is. I mean how clear-minded could you be if you could beat up most of our dads at the same time and be wearing something salmon-colored.
“Yes, of course. How are things with you?” Mr. Larson asked, moving over to one of the stalls with his beefy fingers on his pants zipper.
“BEEP! BEEP! BEEEEEP!” rang the bell, and not a moment to soon. I really didn’t want to be the one that need to tell most of the girls that Mr. Larson was “this big”.
“Oh, there’s the bell! I’d better get to bio! See you there!” I rushed out of the bathroom, never more relieved to be out of any room, any time, any place in my life. But, just my luck, I collided with someone else in my fearfulness of the image of Mr. Larson peeing. We both landed on the tile floor with out backpacks weighing us down like anchors were stuck to us.
“I’m really sorry, man. I was just running out of the place over there and I didn’t see you there. I’ll help u pick up…” I trailed off as I saw myself staring into the wide green eyes of the new girl, with her auburn hair in the same waterfall as I last saw her.
“It’s okay, really,” she said sweetly, struggling under her backpack. “Could you tell me where Mr. Larson’s class is? I’m mean if you knew. That’s my next class and
I’m kind of new here”
“Oh, yeah, I’m going there myself. I walk you there.” I said, helping her up from the floor. “I mean if you want…”
“You would? Oh, yes please! I couldn’t find anything here if I had a road map.” She said excitedly. I would be excited if I had a guide around some random new place also.
“My name’s Cam, by the way. I’ll be your tour guide this afternoon.” I said.
“I’m Melody, and why is that huge man in the pink shirt running after you?” she asked.
“I’ll explain later. Now, come on, before he starts to talk to us!” And, with that, we ran. Actually, she ran, and I tripped over some short kid right in front of us, but Melody and I got to bio in record time.
* * * * *
“What if we the school had a fight club?” mused Alex. Alex lived next door in our little development place, with all the condos painted the same exact shade of red. Whenever it was nice outside and it just started to get dark, I would dig up my ancient leather football and we’d toss it around in the circle in the street in front of our houses. This usually leads to the strangest questions being answered, but I swear to you, we are this close to solving the meaning of life. So today was just another day with another question, and another strange answer.
“A fight club?” I asked, amused.
“Yeah, why don’t we have a fight club? It would be a place for us students to let out the anger of homework, tests, and biology, and come home with wicked looking bruises. It’s sweeping the nation!”
“It swept the nation in 1999. The year is 2006, if you haven’t checked your calendar. Also, you broke the 1st rule of Fight Club.”
“Oh, yeah, then what is the 1st rule of Fight Club?”
“You don’t talk about Fight Club! I guess you’re out of luck then”
“Well, I think I can redeem myself on another rule. What’s the 2nd rule?”
“You DO NOT talk about fight club!”
“It would add some excitement to our school. If you had a big enough bruise, you could tell the new girl that you got it trying to save an old women being jumped by five men and you fought them off with only your bare hands.”
“Would this before, or after I try to explain why I am purple and sticky like Barney covered in glue?”
“I don’t know don’t know, Cam. But, come on man! Catch the ball!” Alex yelled at me as the football went in between my fingers and bounced to the edge of the forest surrounding the circle.
“If I wasn’t telling you about how dumb an idea Fight Club is then I could have been paying attention to the ball!” I shouted back as I ran to grab the ball from the trees and then possibly fire a pass right into Alex’s stomach. But, as I reached down to pick up the ball, I saw Melody walking through the forest, looking at everything around her like this was some unexplored rainforest. She saw me standing there, with an obvious expression of “Why is the new girl in the forest?” on my face, and ran through the trees next to me.
“Your probably wondering what I’m doing walking through the forest while its getting dark, aren’t you?” she asked, not noticing Alex standing 20 feet away from us, waving his hands back and forth, calling for the ball.
“It crossed my mind.” I said.
“Hey, Cam!” Alex yelled, done with calling for the ball and walking towards his house. “I have to start my homework! I’ll talk to you online, because I need some help on the math packet we have to finish.” He slowly walked into his house and closed the door, but I had a feeling that he wanted to know what was going on next to the trees.
“Nice football you have there. Throw one to me.” Melody said, walking to the same spot that Alex had been in five seconds before.
“Let’s hope you catch it, but I have a feeling you’re better than the guy I was just throwing with,” I joked as I threw the football and it landed softly in her hands.
“Let’s hope you can catch as well as I can. Go long!” Melody said, waving me off with her hand as I ran farther down the street. The funny thing was that a million things were running through my head as I saw the ball leave her hands and fly towards me, but the only thing that stayed with me was, “There is still Snapple on the back of my hand!” The throw was right on target and fell right into my out-stretched hands. I pulled the ball down and cradled it in front of me as if I was holding a newborn. I should have been paying attention to my feet, because I tripped over the curb around the street and fell over into the wet grass in the middle of the circle of street.
With the ball still cradled in front of me and my eyes closed, I just laid on the grass, sprawled out like a dead body for what seemed like hours to me, but seconds to the real world. When I opened my eyes again, I saw myself looking up at Melody, trying to restrain herself from bursting out laughing. The sky was slowly darkening and was now turning a blurple (blue and purple together for everyone who has no idea what that is) color and most of the similar, red condos started turning on lights.
“Are you just gonna lay there and look at the stars or do you want to throw this around before it gets dark?” Melody asked, tilting her head slightly like a dog looking at some bug laying in the grass.
“I like it down here,” I replied. “It makes me feel small. You should try it sometime.”
“Fine, stay small. I’ll just go home and take your football with me and use it as stuffed animal or something,” she said, slowly walking away. She looked over her shoulder at me with her green eyes knowing that I didn’t want her to leave. I really didn’t, of course, but I wouldn’t have thought she would catch on so fast.
“Alright, alright, I’m getting up!” I jokingly groaned. “Help me up, pretty lady? My back hasn’t been the same since the Great War.”
She smiled as she strolled back over to me, perfectly one foot in front of the other, as if she was walking on some invisible line in the ground. She extended her hand towards me, and I took it. But, at that exact moment, something in my brain just said “wow”, and that spread everywhere my body, down the ends of my fingertips. I tried to stand up, but that feeling to hold of me and pulled Melody down, her face an inch away from mine.
For what felt like hours, we stayed like this. It’s kind of strange how we just met with purple stained over my shirt, and now she’s close enough to still see stains on my face.
“I'm ringing all the warning bells, careful or you'll hurt yourself,” broke the silence and Melody rolled on to the darkening ground and pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket.
“Hello? I’m just walking around, Dad. I’ll come home. Bye.” She sighed as she closed it. “I have to go home, Cam. Maybe I will see you around sometime.”
“You’ll see me tomorrow in Bio.” I reminded Melody.
Melody laughed, “Yeah, your right. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Here’s your football.” She threw it at me, which ricocheted off my foot and fell a couple steps away from me.
I really just sat there in the dimming light, looking at her walk away, in a perfect straight line, into the trees outside the circle.
“I thought you didn’t like the idea of Fight Club!” I heard from the left. I saw Alex leaning outside his top window, with a wide grin on his face, showing through the half-darkness. “You just started to wrestle with that new girl before she left you!”
Even through the darkness fading on our circle, I picked up my leather football and threw it towards the voice. I heard a dull thud and a “son of a bitch” from the top of the red condo next to mine, and, with one last look towards the woods, I went inside with the feeling still on my fingertips.
There she was, just standing in the middle of the lunchroom. Her hair came down to her shoulders like an auburn waterfall, with one or two strands always just getting in her face. Green eyes looked nervously from table to table, with an expression on her face that looked like she was choosing her poison. She tried to smooth out her mini-skirt, but it’s pretty hard to do with a sandwich in one hand and iced tea in the other.
“Exhibit A, the new kid.” I snapped out of my stare at her to see Alex, looking up from trying to float a chip in Kool-Aid. I never really knew why Alex always had Kool-Aid on him, but it was always around, and red. I noticed that too. It was just one more reason why I like the guy. His curly, black hair stood up in an afro, but there wasn’t a whiter person you could see for miles. Tall and lanky, he was always there to think about the world with you, furrow his bushy eyebrows and just muse. “Lost, nervous action, new clothes, that’s a new kid alright.”
“So we know it’s a new kid, big deal? This school can get a new person once in a while, so why do you have to size each one up like a piece of meat?” Heather exclaimed, openly annoyed. This happened routinely at the lunch table. Alex thinks, Alex makes a comment, Heather yells at him. Alex was the only one who would have the guts to argue with a girl like her. Blond haired and blue-eyed, Miss Heather Black had looks that could kill, and tongue used as the weapon. She now holds the record for turning down the most boys at a single dance, different ways, and all making leave with their tails between their legs, and some random kid yelling out “Oh snap!” That kid would usually be me, but still, it was a fulfilling job.
“It’s just what I do,” Alex said, taking a bite out of his sandwich. “Just like how Cam always yells out ‘Oh snap!’ every time you turn down a guy, isn’t that right, Cam? Cameron? CAMERON JIMMY EISEN! Stop staring at the new girl and back me up here.” I whipped around my school-issued seat so find them staring at me strangely.
“Oh right. Sorry, I was just…uh…staring at the…vending machine.” I mumbled. “Will you to ever stop fighting? You two even fought in 1st grade, something about a dead fish in the water fountain.”
“It was a fish!” Heather yelled with turkey sandwich in her mouth, getting most of it on a monitor standing near by. “I saw it shimmer and floundering around and it defiantly smelled like it too!”
That should keep them busy for a while, I thought to myself. I looked back up to in front of the registers, but she was gone. I looked everywhere around the lunch room, but I didn’t see her.
“Hey, Cam, what’s up with you today? You look like your looking for your lost dog or something, but because if you are, try yelling out its name, like so.” Heather stands up and starts whistling and yelling out “Here, Fido! Come here, Fido! Here boy!” which got us some awkward glances.
“I’m not looking for anything, really.” I said, leaning back on my seat. Next thing I know, I am on my back with Grape-Aid spilled across my shirt, hands, and face, and clapping and laughter echoing off every single tile in the whole place. It takes me a second to realize they are laughing at me, so I do the only thing that comes to mind. I pick myself up, take a bow like the showman that I wish I were, and break into a sprint out the double doors and into the bathroom near the theater.
* * * * *
“Except for that time with the crazy glue, I’ve never seen fingers more sticky,” I thought aloud to the bathroom, as I tried my vain attempt to get all the Snapple, and embarrassment, off my hands.
I always liked something about this bathroom, even though it really was just like any other bathroom in the rest of the school. There were grey and blue tiles, sinks that never give you the water pressure you want, and writing about how the teacher suck and crushes for the few weeks they happen. Maybe it was on the back of the last stall, there was a carving of the whole song of Colt 45, made from the sharp end of a mechanical pencil, signed with the name of Slick Willy. Or, was it the fact that I found $10 dollars on the floor of it one time… I don’t remember. Anyway, I couldn’t found a better hiding spot after this.
“Fucking water pressure,” I grumbled as I looked into the sink, and, because of the idiot I am, getting my face soaked by a rush of freezing cold water.
I reach for some part of my sweatshirt, which has no stickiness on it, and start to dry my face off. Around this time, the door opens, and in comes the biggest man you would ever see wearing a pink polo shirt. Actually, scratch that, the biggest man you would ever see, who just likes wearing pink polos a lot. So, the sight I see when I get my sweatshirt of my face is some enormous thing wearing a pink shirt.
“Hello Mr. Larson…sir.” I added on “sir” just to make sure that I won’t be broken in half this fine afternoon. “What a pleasure to see you in the bathroom… where it was possible for you to snap me over a sink without many people noticing…” From the way this day was going, I wouldn’t have been surprised if I had peed myself right there.
“Oh, Cameron! I’m glad I saw you here!” replied the thing in the pink polo in a voice that would fit a thing in a pink polo “There was this really hilarious thing that just happened in the cafeteria that just reminded me of you. See, there was kid, in a sweatshirt just like yours, who was leaning back in his chair. And then he…”
“Fell backwards and spilled Grape-Aid all over himself?” I pretended to guess.
“Actually, that’s what happened,” said Mr. Larson, utterly confused.
“Just a lucky guess, I suppose,” I said quickly. I really did not want this man to be anymore confused that he already is. I mean how clear-minded could you be if you could beat up most of our dads at the same time and be wearing something salmon-colored.
“Yes, of course. How are things with you?” Mr. Larson asked, moving over to one of the stalls with his beefy fingers on his pants zipper.
“BEEP! BEEP! BEEEEEP!” rang the bell, and not a moment to soon. I really didn’t want to be the one that need to tell most of the girls that Mr. Larson was “this big”.
“Oh, there’s the bell! I’d better get to bio! See you there!” I rushed out of the bathroom, never more relieved to be out of any room, any time, any place in my life. But, just my luck, I collided with someone else in my fearfulness of the image of Mr. Larson peeing. We both landed on the tile floor with out backpacks weighing us down like anchors were stuck to us.
“I’m really sorry, man. I was just running out of the place over there and I didn’t see you there. I’ll help u pick up…” I trailed off as I saw myself staring into the wide green eyes of the new girl, with her auburn hair in the same waterfall as I last saw her.
“It’s okay, really,” she said sweetly, struggling under her backpack. “Could you tell me where Mr. Larson’s class is? I’m mean if you knew. That’s my next class and
I’m kind of new here”
“Oh, yeah, I’m going there myself. I walk you there.” I said, helping her up from the floor. “I mean if you want…”
“You would? Oh, yes please! I couldn’t find anything here if I had a road map.” She said excitedly. I would be excited if I had a guide around some random new place also.
“My name’s Cam, by the way. I’ll be your tour guide this afternoon.” I said.
“I’m Melody, and why is that huge man in the pink shirt running after you?” she asked.
“I’ll explain later. Now, come on, before he starts to talk to us!” And, with that, we ran. Actually, she ran, and I tripped over some short kid right in front of us, but Melody and I got to bio in record time.
* * * * *
“What if we the school had a fight club?” mused Alex. Alex lived next door in our little development place, with all the condos painted the same exact shade of red. Whenever it was nice outside and it just started to get dark, I would dig up my ancient leather football and we’d toss it around in the circle in the street in front of our houses. This usually leads to the strangest questions being answered, but I swear to you, we are this close to solving the meaning of life. So today was just another day with another question, and another strange answer.
“A fight club?” I asked, amused.
“Yeah, why don’t we have a fight club? It would be a place for us students to let out the anger of homework, tests, and biology, and come home with wicked looking bruises. It’s sweeping the nation!”
“It swept the nation in 1999. The year is 2006, if you haven’t checked your calendar. Also, you broke the 1st rule of Fight Club.”
“Oh, yeah, then what is the 1st rule of Fight Club?”
“You don’t talk about Fight Club! I guess you’re out of luck then”
“Well, I think I can redeem myself on another rule. What’s the 2nd rule?”
“You DO NOT talk about fight club!”
“It would add some excitement to our school. If you had a big enough bruise, you could tell the new girl that you got it trying to save an old women being jumped by five men and you fought them off with only your bare hands.”
“Would this before, or after I try to explain why I am purple and sticky like Barney covered in glue?”
“I don’t know don’t know, Cam. But, come on man! Catch the ball!” Alex yelled at me as the football went in between my fingers and bounced to the edge of the forest surrounding the circle.
“If I wasn’t telling you about how dumb an idea Fight Club is then I could have been paying attention to the ball!” I shouted back as I ran to grab the ball from the trees and then possibly fire a pass right into Alex’s stomach. But, as I reached down to pick up the ball, I saw Melody walking through the forest, looking at everything around her like this was some unexplored rainforest. She saw me standing there, with an obvious expression of “Why is the new girl in the forest?” on my face, and ran through the trees next to me.
“Your probably wondering what I’m doing walking through the forest while its getting dark, aren’t you?” she asked, not noticing Alex standing 20 feet away from us, waving his hands back and forth, calling for the ball.
“It crossed my mind.” I said.
“Hey, Cam!” Alex yelled, done with calling for the ball and walking towards his house. “I have to start my homework! I’ll talk to you online, because I need some help on the math packet we have to finish.” He slowly walked into his house and closed the door, but I had a feeling that he wanted to know what was going on next to the trees.
“Nice football you have there. Throw one to me.” Melody said, walking to the same spot that Alex had been in five seconds before.
“Let’s hope you catch it, but I have a feeling you’re better than the guy I was just throwing with,” I joked as I threw the football and it landed softly in her hands.
“Let’s hope you can catch as well as I can. Go long!” Melody said, waving me off with her hand as I ran farther down the street. The funny thing was that a million things were running through my head as I saw the ball leave her hands and fly towards me, but the only thing that stayed with me was, “There is still Snapple on the back of my hand!” The throw was right on target and fell right into my out-stretched hands. I pulled the ball down and cradled it in front of me as if I was holding a newborn. I should have been paying attention to my feet, because I tripped over the curb around the street and fell over into the wet grass in the middle of the circle of street.
With the ball still cradled in front of me and my eyes closed, I just laid on the grass, sprawled out like a dead body for what seemed like hours to me, but seconds to the real world. When I opened my eyes again, I saw myself looking up at Melody, trying to restrain herself from bursting out laughing. The sky was slowly darkening and was now turning a blurple (blue and purple together for everyone who has no idea what that is) color and most of the similar, red condos started turning on lights.
“Are you just gonna lay there and look at the stars or do you want to throw this around before it gets dark?” Melody asked, tilting her head slightly like a dog looking at some bug laying in the grass.
“I like it down here,” I replied. “It makes me feel small. You should try it sometime.”
“Fine, stay small. I’ll just go home and take your football with me and use it as stuffed animal or something,” she said, slowly walking away. She looked over her shoulder at me with her green eyes knowing that I didn’t want her to leave. I really didn’t, of course, but I wouldn’t have thought she would catch on so fast.
“Alright, alright, I’m getting up!” I jokingly groaned. “Help me up, pretty lady? My back hasn’t been the same since the Great War.”
She smiled as she strolled back over to me, perfectly one foot in front of the other, as if she was walking on some invisible line in the ground. She extended her hand towards me, and I took it. But, at that exact moment, something in my brain just said “wow”, and that spread everywhere my body, down the ends of my fingertips. I tried to stand up, but that feeling to hold of me and pulled Melody down, her face an inch away from mine.
For what felt like hours, we stayed like this. It’s kind of strange how we just met with purple stained over my shirt, and now she’s close enough to still see stains on my face.
“I'm ringing all the warning bells, careful or you'll hurt yourself,” broke the silence and Melody rolled on to the darkening ground and pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket.
“Hello? I’m just walking around, Dad. I’ll come home. Bye.” She sighed as she closed it. “I have to go home, Cam. Maybe I will see you around sometime.”
“You’ll see me tomorrow in Bio.” I reminded Melody.
Melody laughed, “Yeah, your right. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Here’s your football.” She threw it at me, which ricocheted off my foot and fell a couple steps away from me.
I really just sat there in the dimming light, looking at her walk away, in a perfect straight line, into the trees outside the circle.
“I thought you didn’t like the idea of Fight Club!” I heard from the left. I saw Alex leaning outside his top window, with a wide grin on his face, showing through the half-darkness. “You just started to wrestle with that new girl before she left you!”
Even through the darkness fading on our circle, I picked up my leather football and threw it towards the voice. I heard a dull thud and a “son of a bitch” from the top of the red condo next to mine, and, with one last look towards the woods, I went inside with the feeling still on my fingertips.