Days of the Week

This was very random. And I hope you can get a feel for who's talking.

 

Wednesday

 

“Come with me.”

“Come with you where?”

“To Japan.”

“Japan?”

“Yes, Japan. Do you have a problem with that?”

“No. I just don’t want to go to Japan. Let’s go to England instead.”

“Racist.”

“What the hell? I’m racist because I’d prefer to go to England instead of Japan?”

“Yes.”

“I’m Japanese, dingweed.”

“So. Doesn’t mean you can’t be racist still.”

“…But it does mean you can’t be racist against your own people.”

“Yes you can.”

“No you can’t.”

“Idiot.”

“I agree, you are an idiot.”
“Shut up.”

“Okay.”

 

And then we continued eating our lunch.

 

We were always acting stupid like that. Me asking something random, him answering concededly, and then ending with me calling him a racist.

 

It was how we did things, and how things got done.

 

….That didn’t make any sense. But that’s alright.

 

Thursday

 

“Are you going to the dance?”

“What dance?”

“The dance at my house.”

“…Huh?”

“You know.”

“Uh, no, I don’t know.”

“Well, you should know, stupid.”

“Why am I stupid?”

“Because. All racist people are stupid.”

“I’m not racist!”
“Yes you are. I should know.”

“Why? Because you’re racist?”

“No. Because my grandfather’s racist. He’s always talking about how much he hates Jews.”

“…Alright then.”

“Yup.”

“So when’s the dance?”

“What dance?”

“The one at your house.”

“I’m not having a dance at my house. What are you on, racist?”

“Drugs. Lots and lots of drugs.”

 

Friday

 

“Are you lactose-intolerant?”

“Where did that come from?”

“Where do all my questions come from?”

“Touche.”

“So are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Lactose-intolerant.”

“Oh. No, I’m not.”

“That’s good.”

“Yup.”

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“How are you?”

“I’m okay.”

“Just okay?”

“Yup.”

“Because you don’t look great.”

“I don’t?”

“Nope.”

“Well, I’m not great. I feel like crap.”

“Oh.”

 

Silence.

 

“That sucks.”

“Yes it does.”

“I hope you don’t feel like crap anymore sometime soon.”

“I hope I don’t too.”

 

We smiled at eachother.

 

Monday

 

“I like cheese.”

“Interesting…NOT!”

 

He started laughing hysterically.

 

“…Are you alright?”

“YUP! I’M SUUUUUUUUPER DUUUUUUUPER!”

“Are you sure?”

“No. F**k off.”

 

Tuesday

 

He groaned.

 

“Are you sick?”

“I feel like crap again.”

“Yesterday you seemed fine…Except for the f**k off part.”

“Oh, yeah. Sorry about that.”

“Yeah, that’s okay.”

 

I looked at him. I mean, really looked at him.

 

“Are you okay?”

“No.”

“What’s wrong?”

“I feel like crap.”

“Again?”

“Yeah. It never ends.”

“What never ends.”

“The desire.”

“The desire for what?”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know.”

“You’ve known me for a while now. You should probably know.”

“Well, I don’t. So just tell me.”

 

He paused.

 

“Drugs.”

 

I looked at the ground.

 

He got up and walked away.

 

Wednesday

 

He walked by me in the halls.

 

I said hi.

 

He ignored me.

 

I ate my lunch alone.

 

Thursday

 

I saw one of his friends in the hall.

 

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“You know where your friend is?”

“Which one?”

“Japanese, shaggy hair?”

“Oh.”

“…Well?”

“He’s gone.”

“Gone? What do you mean?”

“He did too much.”

“Too much of what?”

“Drugs.”

 

I didn’t say anything.

 

“We miss him.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“Was he your friend or something?”

“Yeah, he was.”

“…Sorry.”

“No problem.”

 

I took the rest of the day off and went home.

 

My friend was dead.

 

This sucks.