-I am in the dressing room at school, getting ready for my part in the play. But wait. I can't find my clothes. Or my shoes. I left them right there. But I can't look around now, I have to be on-stage any minute. I have to at least find something though.
All of the sudden I am out on stage without realizing that I had put myself there, and Elijah is right there on the first row, looking up, smiling.
I see myself from a distance a notice that I am up there with just my underwear on. I am open for everyone to see, and I am not even hiding myself at all. And still, all the while Elijah just stares, the same smile that he had to begin with, but not a laughing smile, but more of an 'I understand you' smile. Does he understand me? Because I don't think that I understand myself.
Now my underwear is starting to fade away, and the part of me that is watching from a distance begins running onto the stage, and then behind the curtain. I breath in deep breaths. That was a close one. I was almost seen naked....-
I wake up. Oh good, it was just a dream.
Man, I really hate those dreams, because they just really mess with you. I am always relieved to find that I was never naked (or at least never almost) naked in front of a giant crowd of people.
Well, now it's time for me to get ready for school. Ugh. At least it's Friday though. Otherwise I don't know how I would get through the day.
***
"....in the end, after Abigail and her friends had sentenced so many people to death, and they knew that they were okay and safe from getting into trouble, Abigail finally fessed up and gave a petty truth to what had happened. Of course that didn't happen in the book, but that did happen in real life...." Mr. Rice say's.
"Now you all have an assignment on this. This is going to be worth one-hundred points, so pretty much, if you don't turn it in, you're screwed."
"Seriously?" Someone say's.
"Yes, seriously. This is going to be five to ten page paper on who was your favorite and least favorite people in the book."
"What?" A new voice chimes in. "How are we supposed to write even five pages on that?"
"It's quite possible you guys. You just need to apply yourselves."
After several minutes of complaints, my teacher finally gets the class to quiet down again. "Now I know that it might seem like a lot on your heads, but you guys can do it. By the way, it isn't happening."
A pause.
"Huh?" Abby Dunforth finally says.
Just as simply and nearly devoid of emotion as he began, he simply said, "Yeah, it isn't happening. It was a joke people."
"Oh you Mr. Rice!" Someone behind me says. "You totally had us." I turn around and its one of the most annoying guys in my grade, but also one of the funniest. Philip Tollman. He gives me a sly smile and a wink, and before I can even think about it, I turn back around. Like I'm not confused enough as it is right now with boys. So I am just going to not think about it. Nope, I am not thinking about it. I am not thinking about it. Oh jeez I can't get it freaking out of my head now. It is making me feel self conscious, but in a good way. In a way where I felt pretty enough to be winked at. I'm sorry, but I cannot just let a wink go by. It's like when your best friend tells you that her cousin facebook stalked you, and you are strangely flattered by it, because, well, you're good looking enough to be facebook stalked.
Sadly, while in the moment of my internal rant, I just realize that I have completely missed the real assignment that Mr. Rice was preparing us for. But all of the sudden the bell rings and I need to go.
"Hey." I turn to Philip. He just looks up at me and smiles.
"Hey."
"So I wasn't paying too much attention. What did he say the assignment was?"
He laugh's. "We need to write a one page analysis of how the book was to us. You need to copy that so you can remember?"
There is no teasing in his voice, just friendliness. Luckily English is our last period of the day, so we don't have to run to any classes afterwards. I quickly copy the assignment down and then begin my walk out the door and down the hall. Without noticing he suddenly joins me, walking into step with me.
"So you're Sam, right?"
Oh please don't be stupid. "Yup." We've only been going to school together since fifth grade.
"Hi, I'm Philip." He extends a hand toward me, and without thinking it through, I take it and my hand gently shakes his, while his is a little firmer. The way I like it.
I am so confused. He has never bothered to say one word to me over the years, let alone acknowledge my existence, and now, in our senior year of high school he's trying to be my friend?
"So, Sam..." He continues. "I've noticed that you're really good in English, even when you apparently don't pay attention, so I was wondering... Do you maybe want to help me out a bit?"
Oh, now it all makes sense. "If you mean doing all of your work for you, than no thanks." I walk ahead of him.
"Wow, wow, wow." He grabs my arm a pulls me to a stop. "What made you get that idea?"
"I don't know, maybe because we've been going to school together since the fifth grade and you have never spoken one word to me until now, and its to ask me to 'help' you do your homework. Doesn't that sound a little weird to you?" I say it all calmly, never once wavering my gaze from him.
He just stands there for a moment, stoically still. "Oh. You think that I'm just asking you to do my homework for me." It's not a question.
"Yeah. Sounded pretty much just like that." Okay, now I'm sounding a little snotty, but this guy has just always sort of bothered me.
"Well I'm sorry to tell you this, but I really was just asking for help and nothing else, and you seemed like the perfect person to ask considering your perfect grade in there."
Now it's time for me to be stoic. He just looks straight ahead and starts walking again without a glance back. Crap, now I feel bad.
"Wait!" I call. He does and turns to give me a slightly exasperated expression. "I'm sorry." I continue. "It's just I'm not used to guys all of the sudden turning up to me when they've never even talked to me before. It's not normal for me. I'm sorry. Yes, I will help you with your English homework."
His weary face suddenly slips to happiness in a matter of seconds. "Great, thanks. Should we just meet during lunch then?"
"Yeah, lets do that." Seemed like the least confusing time of the day to me.
"Awesome. And..." He lean's closer to me, a hint of some delicious musky aftershave mixed with the smell of his mint gum. All of the students bustle around us, eager to get out of this building. "I'm surprised that you think that this isn't normal for you, because I know that there are several guys who would love to date you."
I stare at him, confusion spreading across my face.
"Oh come on." He say's. "Don't act so innocent. A girl like you has got to know something like this."
"Um, no." I say slowly. "I went out with one guy for about two to three weeks this year, but that just didn't work out, but other than that I honestly can't think of anyone else."
He raises his eyebrows at me. "That," he says, "is extremely hard for me to believe."
"Why?" I say, truly curious.
"Because you are too pretty and smart of a girl to miss that."
What? "You... Um." I bite my lower lip. He's staring at me, and a redness has risen to his cheeks. The hallway is nearly empty besides two stragglers. I continue on walking. "Listen," I say, "if this is your way of coming on to me then please just don't right now. I already am confused enough about boys as it is. And strangely, I barely know you, even after years of school together that you don't even remember. But don't worry, " I say lightly, "I'll keep lunch open for you. Now sorry, I have to go. My sister is waiting for me."
I don't get that far ahead before he reply's, "No, I remember you. AND you admitted it. You do know that you get guy's attention. That's okay, I like a girl who know's what she's got." It isn't before he turns in the opposite direction that he gives me another one of his sly smiles, and leaves me feeling more confused than ever.
"Now you all have an assignment on this. This is going to be worth one-hundred points, so pretty much, if you don't turn it in, you're screwed."
"Seriously?" Someone say's.
"Yes, seriously. This is going to be five to ten page paper on who was your favorite and least favorite people in the book."
"What?" A new voice chimes in. "How are we supposed to write even five pages on that?"
"It's quite possible you guys. You just need to apply yourselves."
After several minutes of complaints, my teacher finally gets the class to quiet down again. "Now I know that it might seem like a lot on your heads, but you guys can do it. By the way, it isn't happening."
A pause.
"Huh?" Abby Dunforth finally says.
Just as simply and nearly devoid of emotion as he began, he simply said, "Yeah, it isn't happening. It was a joke people."
"Oh you Mr. Rice!" Someone behind me says. "You totally had us." I turn around and its one of the most annoying guys in my grade, but also one of the funniest. Philip Tollman. He gives me a sly smile and a wink, and before I can even think about it, I turn back around. Like I'm not confused enough as it is right now with boys. So I am just going to not think about it. Nope, I am not thinking about it. I am not thinking about it. Oh jeez I can't get it freaking out of my head now. It is making me feel self conscious, but in a good way. In a way where I felt pretty enough to be winked at. I'm sorry, but I cannot just let a wink go by. It's like when your best friend tells you that her cousin facebook stalked you, and you are strangely flattered by it, because, well, you're good looking enough to be facebook stalked.
Sadly, while in the moment of my internal rant, I just realize that I have completely missed the real assignment that Mr. Rice was preparing us for. But all of the sudden the bell rings and I need to go.
"Hey." I turn to Philip. He just looks up at me and smiles.
"Hey."
"So I wasn't paying too much attention. What did he say the assignment was?"
He laugh's. "We need to write a one page analysis of how the book was to us. You need to copy that so you can remember?"
There is no teasing in his voice, just friendliness. Luckily English is our last period of the day, so we don't have to run to any classes afterwards. I quickly copy the assignment down and then begin my walk out the door and down the hall. Without noticing he suddenly joins me, walking into step with me.
"So you're Sam, right?"
Oh please don't be stupid. "Yup." We've only been going to school together since fifth grade.
"Hi, I'm Philip." He extends a hand toward me, and without thinking it through, I take it and my hand gently shakes his, while his is a little firmer. The way I like it.
I am so confused. He has never bothered to say one word to me over the years, let alone acknowledge my existence, and now, in our senior year of high school he's trying to be my friend?
"So, Sam..." He continues. "I've noticed that you're really good in English, even when you apparently don't pay attention, so I was wondering... Do you maybe want to help me out a bit?"
Oh, now it all makes sense. "If you mean doing all of your work for you, than no thanks." I walk ahead of him.
"Wow, wow, wow." He grabs my arm a pulls me to a stop. "What made you get that idea?"
"I don't know, maybe because we've been going to school together since the fifth grade and you have never spoken one word to me until now, and its to ask me to 'help' you do your homework. Doesn't that sound a little weird to you?" I say it all calmly, never once wavering my gaze from him.
He just stands there for a moment, stoically still. "Oh. You think that I'm just asking you to do my homework for me." It's not a question.
"Yeah. Sounded pretty much just like that." Okay, now I'm sounding a little snotty, but this guy has just always sort of bothered me.
"Well I'm sorry to tell you this, but I really was just asking for help and nothing else, and you seemed like the perfect person to ask considering your perfect grade in there."
Now it's time for me to be stoic. He just looks straight ahead and starts walking again without a glance back. Crap, now I feel bad.
"Wait!" I call. He does and turns to give me a slightly exasperated expression. "I'm sorry." I continue. "It's just I'm not used to guys all of the sudden turning up to me when they've never even talked to me before. It's not normal for me. I'm sorry. Yes, I will help you with your English homework."
His weary face suddenly slips to happiness in a matter of seconds. "Great, thanks. Should we just meet during lunch then?"
"Yeah, lets do that." Seemed like the least confusing time of the day to me.
"Awesome. And..." He lean's closer to me, a hint of some delicious musky aftershave mixed with the smell of his mint gum. All of the students bustle around us, eager to get out of this building. "I'm surprised that you think that this isn't normal for you, because I know that there are several guys who would love to date you."
I stare at him, confusion spreading across my face.
"Oh come on." He say's. "Don't act so innocent. A girl like you has got to know something like this."
"Um, no." I say slowly. "I went out with one guy for about two to three weeks this year, but that just didn't work out, but other than that I honestly can't think of anyone else."
He raises his eyebrows at me. "That," he says, "is extremely hard for me to believe."
"Why?" I say, truly curious.
"Because you are too pretty and smart of a girl to miss that."
What? "You... Um." I bite my lower lip. He's staring at me, and a redness has risen to his cheeks. The hallway is nearly empty besides two stragglers. I continue on walking. "Listen," I say, "if this is your way of coming on to me then please just don't right now. I already am confused enough about boys as it is. And strangely, I barely know you, even after years of school together that you don't even remember. But don't worry, " I say lightly, "I'll keep lunch open for you. Now sorry, I have to go. My sister is waiting for me."
I don't get that far ahead before he reply's, "No, I remember you. AND you admitted it. You do know that you get guy's attention. That's okay, I like a girl who know's what she's got." It isn't before he turns in the opposite direction that he gives me another one of his sly smiles, and leaves me feeling more confused than ever.
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