October

“Trina, you need to get your act together.” My father told me for the fourth time today. He was big on making his points clear with me. “College isn’t going to last forever. You need to do better. Go see that professor right now. Don’t wait..” My mind thankfully started to wonder. Instead of complying to my fathers orders, I stared down at an empty snickers wrapper flapping around the slight fall wind. I was definitely not visiting that senile professor today. Probably not tomorrow either. I’m really not doing as bad as Dad thinks I am. He likes to overreact and try to mold me into a cute, perfect little daughter I’ll never be. The star wars tattoo he still doesn’t know about, peeked out from under my t-shirt on my forearm. I brushed my fingers against it as he told me to not get distracted anymore.

I soft melody started playing, and I scanned my eyes across the courtyard to find the source. A boy with shaggy chocolate hair sat alone on the wide lawn with a guitar pressed to his side. His eyes stayed down, unnoticing the freshmen girls looking back at him over their pompous shoulders. The pink floyd song he was strumming most likely made them think that he was ‘mysterious’ or ‘deep’. Of Course, he could be the intensely sensitive guy these poor girls wished him to be, but I doubt it. Most likely, he’s just another college bum, studying some futile major, still a little buzzed on his last joint, and playing his dad’s old guitar in the courtyard to make him look intensely sensitive to girls with bouncy curls.

“Hey Dad,” I said between his brief breaths of disappointment. “I gotta go, I’ll go see my physics professor, don’t worry. Love you, bye.” Than I clicked the big red button and put my phone in my back pocket. Despite my quick judgment on this guy, I found myself walking towards him. I took four quick strides and stood above him, waiting for him to notice me. After he didn’t look up, I plopped on the grass next to him. He was so intently involved in his music playing, that my entrance had gone completely unnoticed. I hugged my knees into myself and leaned forward on my elbows. I let a section of my butterscotch hair fall into his view, hoping he’d catch me in his peripheral vision. He slowly pulled his tanned fingers across the strings one more time, and then looked up at me.

He had black deep set eyes, hidden behind long eyelashes. When he blinked, a crooked smile revealed chester cat teeth. His face was surprisingly clean, except for a little stubble growing on his chin. I briefly wondered why he chose to shave, but kept his hair in a dreadful mess.

“Hi there.” His voice was the perfect balance between boyish and deep. I smiled back at him, brushing the loose strand of hair behind my four-pierced ear. Glancing behind him, I recognized a physics book identical to mine. I hadn’t noticed him in my class, but then again I wasn’t looking for him.

“Hey,” I said. “ I heard you playing, what’s your name?” I asked, while squinting my eyes slightly. I rocked closer to him, keeping my stance casual.

“My name?” He shrugged his shoulders not letting his ridiculous smile waiver. I noticed he kept strict eye contact, almost making me uncomfortable. “I’m sure yours is more interesting.”

“No.” I replied firmly. I sat straight up changing my stare to two jocks throwing around a football. “It’s normal. Trina.”

“Hmmm,” he mused, now admiring the yellow leaves above our heads. “Trina.” He pulled the big, worn instrument over his head, freeing himself from the dark red strap. He laid it next to the trunk of the tree we sat next to, then layed back onto the grass. Spreading his arms and legs out like he was in his own bed at his house, he happily thought over my name. “Trina.”

I bit my bottom lip to keep from laughing. This guy was definitely playing the part. I looked down at him as he put both hands behind his head still sporting the crooked grin. His eyes sparkled with the sunlight, making me understand why the cute girl with the heart-shaped face across the lawn stared us down. I smiled a wicked smile , and she grimaced back. I considered winking at her disgusted expression, but decided to lay down next to Mr. Thoughtful instead. When I was settled next to him, he turned his head to look at me.

“Trina is a perfectly non-boring name.” he chimmed.

“What a compliment.” I murmured, breaking our stare to watch a pigeon sail high above our tree. I bent one of my knees and tapped it to the beat of the song he got stuck in my head.

“Do you like to be complimented?” he asked innocently.

I scrunched my face wondering if I should lie to him. I could pretend to be the polite, modest trina, or I could scare him by being my harshly honest self. Deciding I didn’t need to impress him, I answered, “Yeah. But I prefer to be praised, thanks.” I turned my head to sneak at his reaction. He beamed back at me.

In less than 5 seconds, he jumped to his feet, holding the old guitar close to himself. Peering down at me with his absurd smile, he bent into a low bow letting his hair fall over his face. Then, he started strumming wildly, kicking his legs in odd angles, and spinning in many ungraceful circles. I sat up on my left elbow to peer around him and see the stalking barbie seemingly upset at his little show.

“Oh Trina,” he sang. “My Trina, Trina, Trina.” His barefeet bounced around the lawn, while people passing starred with concerned glances. I tried to keep my face as serious as possible, but the sides of my thin lips pulled upward, giving away my amusement.

After another minute or so, he slammed his palm against the strings, making the music abruptly stop. He was still holding onto that cheesy smile when he raised his eyebrows at me. Silently asking what I thought of his performance.

I sat up, hugging my knee close to me, pretending to ponder over the thought. He remained patiently still above me, waiting for my verdict. One of my hands reached down, running over the blades of bright green grass. I pulled some out and threw it away. Then I pulled one long blade from the ground and held it between two fingers.

“You’re quite the talent.” I gave, not meeting his eager eyes. “But, I think I’ve got you beat.” I held the piece of grass to my lips and blew into it. A soft whistling noise came out and barely met my ears. I looked back up at him to see his smile even bigger than before.

“I doubt I could ever compete with you.” he said. I lifted my boney shoulders and let them fall. He was one of those optimistic personalities. So positive all the time. It would drive people like me crazy. We were black and white. My crude sarcastic comments will clash with his sincere ones.

I wrestled my way to my feet, brushing grass stains from the back of my worn shorts. I stood close enough to him that I could tell he was only slightly taller than me. By one inch maybe. I let myself asses all of him now. His bare feet against his browning skin, his exposed shoulder hugging the strap of his old guitar. He was wearing a cut off black shirt with some beetles lyrics on it. He was very cliche.

“Are too much of a secret to tell me your name?” I asked.

“I wouldn’t say too much of a secret. Maybe just the right amount.”

“Right.” I huffed at his very confusing response. “Your a modernised hippie.”

“I don’t think I could really be categorized as that.”

“Are you going to passively argue against everything I say?” I said getting a little frustrated. He smirked, hiding his perfectly straight teeth.

“Not everything you say.” Now very frustrated, I let my mouth speak before I had time to evault it.

“Your head is like a balloon. Everything you say is just air.” He swung his balloon head back, laughing so loudly that his shoulders shook. A small smile crept up on me, but i made it vanish before he looked back at me. A glimpse of blonde caught my attention, and I could see that his stalker gf was now walking towards us. I smiled bigger now, sensing a challenge. I reached over and lightly grabbed his arm, to give her a headache. He didn’t seem to notice or mind.

When she finally reached us, she stood behind his unknowing back, puffing like a dragon. She strategically kept her eyes of me and glared into his curved back. Her delicate little hands were placed squarely on her tiny waist.

“Jake,” her squeaky voice said. “I called you like three times last night.” He turned his head back to look at her, but then turned his gaze back to me just as quickly. That seemed to piss her off.

“See you around, Jake.” I winked at him before walking back to the building I just left. I couldn’t hear clearly, but the girls voice got even squeakier when she asked where he’s been. I laughed silently to myself picturing her pretty face getting all pink.

My back pocket started vibrating. I pulled my phone out to see a new text message from Dad. He wanted to know If I had gone to see the professor yet. Then in all capital letters, he sent : DON’T GET DISTRACTED. Hippie Jake was definitely a distraction. But he’s an innocent one, who just so happens to be taking the same physics class I was currently failing. I clicked my fingers against the screen and replied: Not by anything that’s not worth being distracted by, Dad.