Monday, October 4, 2010

4. That room always smells of chemicals.  The people that tell their opinions say it is distasteful, but I disagree.  It smells like creation and understanding.  Today we played jeopardy, I was the team captain of group number three.
     "Lilas," the teacher said, her voice as high-pitched as ever,"Pick someone."  By then all the seniors and juniors were taken, as was required; upperclassmen first.
     "Melissa."  I made my decision quick, though I wished to revoke it, call his name.  She sat beside me, a friendly voice from the dark the day before.
     "Pick Skylar," she told me when my turn came again.  I consented, she knows friends more than I do.  I look up at Deric, standing against the wall, his face revealing betrayal that Melissa did not say to pick him.  I believe he favors her, for they are always laughing and joking, flirting.
     "Deric next." I picked again, and he walked over, sitting next to Melissa in the empty green plastic seat.  She told me the next name, a girl named Emily.  I called it, she joined our group.  Then she picked him.
     "Pick John."
     "Okay."  By then our table was full, John sat at the corner, diagonal me.  The game began, rules unexplained.  When his turn came around the second time, he looked at me and mouthed,"Help me!"  I laughed quietly, smiling at John.
      The game was over, the bell rang and John and I were left in the classroom.  I stalled, unconsiously wanting to walk out beside him.
     "Your John, right?" I ask once he catches up.
     "Yea.  And you're the quiet junior girl."
     "Yes.  That is me."  I smile, happy in this moment.
     "What is your name, really?"
     "Lilas.  But I answer to Lilly too, people tend to call me that, I'm not sure why."

Monday, September 13, 2010

3. The grating sound flew through my open window, pulling along a rhythmic slap, slap, slap.  My attention was easily pulled away from analyzing Hester Prynne.  The sound slowly grew louder; whatever was coming wasn't coming very fast.  I craned my giraffe neck to see, and finally he appeared.  His back was facing me, riding his skateboard.  He wore no shirt, just black pants, a curious hat and black flip flops: the source of the slapping.    My eyes were glued to his figure as he rode by my house, my ears listened once he was no longer in sight.  I can't concentrate on Hester Prynne now, I'm wishing so hard that he will come back, this time facing me.  I want to know who he is so I can hold on to the tiny thread that my daydreams will come true.  A few more sentences are squeezing themselves out of my brain, applying themselves to paper.  I hear it!  He's coming back!  Now he is in my view, quicker this time for the street is shorter that way.  He is facing me. Oh golly gee he better see me.  Now he is gone.  I noticed his dark hair, appearing-to-be handsome face and good-on-the-eyes shirtless state before he disappeared from my view for the second time.  He didn't notice me and he hasn't come back.

Monday, September 6, 2010

2. I walk swiftly through the electronic guard towers, the everlasting smell of this underground library greeting my nose like a long lost friend.  I re-check a large book I had not yet completed and walk over to the teen area.  Recently these books have regained my attention, for many of them provide a high school experience, however fake it may be.  I gather my thoughts and set to finding intriguing books, all the while wishing the young man restocking shelves would need to restock the teen area shelves; I wished to say hello.  My mind wanders as I pick books, then decide to leave.  As I walk away, I see he is in the teen room, I didn't hear him approach.

Saturday, September 4, 2010

1. Cold

Swiftly as it could, the room turned cold.  I shivered, wishing my sweater wasn't outside in my truck.  I gathered my arms around me, all others in the room seemed oblivious to the frosty bite the air now held.
"Hey"  I look up, not expecting to be the one addressed with the word of hello.  "You look cold."
"Yes.  I am."  Insecurities rushed towards me like soccer moms upon the opening of a store-wide sale.  Who was this person, why was he talking to me?
"I has gotten a bit chilly in here, hasn't it."
"Yes.  It has."
"I'm Derrick."