A Boy Can Dream pt. 2

A Story by Little Crow

The second part of my little venture into "What if?".

I'm perched somewhat precariously on the sink in the corner, my back against the wall, and one dirty and scuffed Converse encased foot resting on it as I flick open my lighter, the familiar clink echoing around the bathroom, I close my eyes and take a deep drag off my third Newport 100 of the day. The green is starting to fade a little from the pack having spent so much time on the floor of my truck, although they're stale, but the familiar nicotine high is what I need.
I've got my well worn copy of Slaughterhouse Five with me today, it's sad I planned to skip class in the very first week of school, but hey, at least I'm reading. Well...okay mostly I'm staring at this book while my mind wanders to that Katrina girl, she seems really cool, and she's got a great sense of humor. I'd really like to be friends with her...or more even, she's really quite attractive. I know better than to hope for that though, even I can't fool myself into thinking she would want to be anything more than a friend...if that.
Regardless, I can't help but feel more than a little alone here, ever since moving it's like...everything is different, I miss everyone from back home, I miss having a best friend, or really...anyone to talk to. Maybe a friend is exactly what I need, and who better than a pretty girl who reads real books?
As I'm pondering this, I hear the voice of someone who's obviously fighting hard not to laugh say "Are you...uhm...okay?"
I open one eye and take a look at the guy who interrupted me, he's kinda on the short side, and pretty stocky, not fat, but not skinny either, curly blond hair, and he's got this dumb grin plastered on his face. It's in that moment that I realize how ridiculous I must look, sitting on the sink with my eyes closed and grinning like an idiot. I decide to pretend I don't care that I look like a total tool. ", something I can do for you?"
He looks pointedly at the sink and says "Uh...yeah, I need to wash my hands"
I let my foot slide off the sink and I spin around to put my back against the mirror as he washes his hands. He keeps shaking his head and laughing. I give him a shove with my foot, and ask "What do you find so entertaining?"
He nods his head towards my chest, and I look down only to realize that my cigarette took the liberty of ashing itself all down my front. Apparently, I'd been lost in thought a little longer than I felt. I look up to make a remark about it and I just catch the tail end of a shoelace left untied as the door swings shut behind him.
"There's a lot of odd people here." I mutter as I frantically try to get the ashes off my shirt, leaving gray streaks along the front of my black shirt, and ending up getting most of them in the pockets of my faded and worn jeans.
I finally give up, after getting the majority of that stuff off of myself, and I tug the door open, letting it close slowly behind me as I step out into the hall. I decide to wander for the last twenty minutes of class, and I assume a leisurely pace down the hall towards the gym. My thoughts wander again, thoughts of money for diesel, so I can get to school without walking fifteen minutes to ride the damned bus, wondering what I'm going to do for dinner, wondering what Katrina is up to... Before I know it, I'm standing next to the big polished wooden doors of the gymnasium, and I peer through the little glass portholes to see what's going on in there. The first thing I notice is that the size of the place is actually a little astonishing in comparison to my old school. The second is a very familiar pair of pink and black Vans resting atop the railing of the bleachers. The third thing I notice is that I've leaned too far over in my attempt to catch a glimpse of the face that goes along with said Vans. The fourth and final thing I notice is that the gynmasium doors open inwards...and they're not latched. My head and hands connect with the door, and it swings wide, spilling me out onto the floor and I groan at not only the pain in my face but also the embarassment. I roll over and look up and behind me with my head upside down at the bleachers and I catch sight of an easy smile with raised eyebrows over those brown eyes, and I give her an awkardly lopsided upside down grin as I wave. She laughs with me and waves back, then shoos me away as the gym instructor makes his rather slow and lethargic progess towards me.
I spin around and scooch out the door, then jog down the hall to recover from my incident. My nose feels hot, and rather sore...it's going to be a long day.