CHAPTER 12: Dusty

You know sometimes when you wake up for school and you're a bit early so you're like "Hey, I bet it's not a problem if I sleep another minute or two!", and next thing you know you're chasing the bus as kids taunt you with a waffle in your mouth.

I was riding Chris's red Huffy bike up and down their neighborhood tapping mailboxes as I passed them. Chris's house was number 3778. I'm pretty sure there aren't more than 4,000 houses here, but they use four digit numbers. 

I started at the top of the driveway at Chris's house and rode down really fast and did my best to avoid the passing cars. 

Ring-a-ding-dong-Ring-a-ding-dong-Ring-a-

That was my phone, I slowed down my bike and stopped it near someone's mailbox. I fumbled the phone out of my pocket and flipped open the dark blue top.

"Hello?" 

There was a brief heavy breathing and then an answer.

"Hello? Oh hey, Dusty!"

An unfamiliar voice. A deep one, but not deep enough to be a grown man. It was similar to Andrew's except crackly. The voice spoke again.

"Hey, not to be rude or anything, but you got any, cooking oil? Like peanut or olives."

I said nothing, I checked the screen and it just read "CALLER" and their number. Unfamiliar. 

"Dusty, you there?" 

"Hey," I finally answered. "not to be rude, but who are you, again?" 

The guy gave a soft chuckle and then replied.

"It's me! Rian! Holy s**t! It's like an alien came an' wiped yer mind!" 

"Rian?" I asked.

"Yeah, Rian!"

I sighed, that was not the answer I wanted. I pondered again over who Rian could be. Rian the employee from Wal-Mart? The man in the army that was petitioning at the mall? No. Who in the f**k was Rian?

"Yeah, I don't really remember you." 

Rian gave a heavy, heavy sigh and replied with a monotone voice.

"Why did the chicken cross the road?" 

All the memories in my mind flashed back the the certain part in 7th grade when Rian and I were paired up together for "Reading Buddies". We were given the book "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix". Seeing as Rian and I had read this book ages ago and loved it, we didn't read it, but instead talked. And joked. 

"So he could get run over by a f****n' KFC truck." I explained. 

We both burst out in laughter. Now I remembered, Rian, the class clown. We had been best friends in middle school but departed for different high schools. 

"Rian! Now I remember!" I exclaimed. Months of suffering were now over.

"How'd you get my phone number?" I asked.

"Hours of research." He muttered. 

I was beaming with happiness, if I were anymore happy, light rays would shoot out of the gaps in my teeth and illuminate the evening skies above. Speaking of evening, it was time to go home.  

"Rian, listen, I gotta get home. I'll call you back in an hour or so." 

"'K. Bye!" He said sheepishly. 

"Bye." 

I pressed the red button on my phone and then quickly saved his number onto my contact list and rode back.

I reached my temporary home and before I opened the gate on the side to enter the backyard, I saw a woman come out of the house left of mine. 

"THEN SCREW YOU!" The woman screamed.

She had a furious look on her face and sat herself down on the curb and began bawling. I knew it was no business of mine but I had to, I put my bike in between the door and walked slowly to the woman. I sat myself down, the lady didn't glance at me but instead began having the crying hiccups when you try to hold them in.

"Hey, you alright?" I asked. The woman gave a small reply but I couldn't understand it over her whimpers. She turned to me and wiped her tears on her sleeve leaving dark mascara smudges on her and the shirt. She had bronze colored skin and dark hair that was scrunched up to her shoulders. 

"I-I-I'm fine." she replied with a stutter. 

"No you aren't, seriously, who was that?"

The lady looked over to her door and turned back to me. 

"My b-boyfriend. Or my ex.." she shrugged. 

"What'd he do?" I questioned, I was nervous, I was afraid to talk to neighbors, let alone strangers.

"He's a jerk, b*****d that's what  he is. He's making me clean his messes, do his laundry, make him food! While he just sits on the computer all day long doing who knows what! He thinks woman are just, maids! Or-or workers! He treats me like a slave! I'm plannin' to break up with him as soon as I clean up, make him pack his things and KICK HIM OUT!" 

"Serves him right." I mumbled. "Hey, your name?" I quickly asked. "I'm Dusty."

"Tarala." she said with a smile. "It means, bumblebee, a honeybee." 

I giggled. She giggled. Instantly we were friends.