"Sigh the day was finally over," I say scratching the inner scalp of my white hair.
The bells ring continuously as my fellow students rush themselves from their chairs like caged animals. Animals that waited, counted, and prayed for this moment to come. I, Lincoln Folium, wasn't one of them. How could I be? I've just scored so much today from the test I'd taken to my soon-to-be girl choosing me to go on a date with her out of everyone within our class.
So, while everyone crams the halls, clawing at their blue and white uniforms, and stuffing their backpacks as they did their stomachs during lunchtime. I just walk straight through the middle with a glim in my step the whole way down.
Time feels its slowest while the harmony of snake boots plays repeatedly inside my head. I feel like I'm at the peak of the world imaging that song inside my head, and nothing can stop me.
I wait for the animals to bust down their door of oppression, letting them rampage back towards the buses or their homes. No offense to my classmates. I happen to be friendly with most of them, especially since there was no other private school for my age closer than this.
Just like snake-skinned boots on a Saturday night, I kick down the steps, tapping my feet and making my way toward a park bench that rests outside our school's gate.
Letting the music go into its instrumental course. The sunlight makes the whiteness in my hair abstract, sadly to my dismay. I gawk at all the parents hugging their children with fondness, preparing them for the coldness of their cars.
My mates have no idea how lucky they are. My mother is always on "business trips." In reality, she's just playing with beakers and tubes at The Covenant facility not too far from here.
My little sisters would usually accompany me, luckily, they were staying after school. Today my best mate is meeting me here. Eddy-boy, my ace in the whole. Unlike others in my circle of friends, he understands that it's a mad game out here. So, when you need an assist, he can't resist.
Right on queue, Eddy waddles his way over, his books luring over him like a leaning plaza. The only reason I know it to be him is because of how he always steps with sprawl legs when he exceeds his weight. He almost trip over himself if it wasn't for my legs, flying me over to his location.
My head acts as a support beam to the falling structure, saving a few pieces from pulverizing the ants below.
"You know, old chum I could have helped you with your books."
"Sorry Lincoln." His arms shake in sweat. "I didn't want to hassle you. I got this."
My brain is completely confined because of his words. Yet I should have seen this coming. Eddy's the type of person who never wanted to appear weak when it was in his control. Especially to his best friend. No matter what he pleads I extend my arms into crane formation.
As if we are in a basketball game, we pass the books to one another, shooting two-pointers in Eddy's backpack. I even score a few three-pointers toward my own. We are so engraved in this little game of ours that we made people stop and stare. In other words, we do make quite the pair.
With that now settled I can finally see him, or at least what the sun will allow. The sunlight makes his skin crisp and shaded more than it already is. His glasses are still held together by bits of duct tape and glue. His hair looks like the tip of a broccoli stem, giving him the nickname broccoli brain by some of our peers. They call me old man Lincoln due to my pelt of snow, yet it stands out to me. I wouldn't have it any other way.
The grass always smells fresh, giving our noses the sensation of a new car smell as we steadily made our steps on the slick line pavement towards the rows of neighboring houses. With that the bushes, trees, and flowers tried to overshadow them, using their stellar good looks. My mind can never decide on a winner.
"Can you believe it, old chum?" My voice rises towards the sky.
"Believe what Lincoln?" He says with most of his attention focusing on the glacier melting from his forehead.
"About how such a day this is turning out to be." My smile slides across to one side. "I can't see it getting any better."
"You're telling me. I can finally get some cold air around here and get out of this stuffy uniform." He proceeds to continue wiping away the ocean forming around his face.
I grin as my hands also crash into my forehead as the Titanic once did long ago. Eddy's hands are already layered in sweat with his short jeans only acting as a temporary sponge. I should be disgusted, yet my hands commit the same act. I can only be disgusted at myself.
"You might want to change out of your uniform before your big date tonight." Eddy's elbows nudge at my shoulders. The colors of my peach-flavored checks shift to rose-red very quickly. As Eddy notices his nudges become more persistent.
"How did you find out about that, Is all I could mutter. He begins to smirk, smacking my backpack a big one. The pressure goes straight through my back and out of my chest.
"The whole group knows about it, dummy." He smiles like he just took out a cigar, letting the flumes flow into his veins. "How couldn't we find out about your date with the lovely Ronnie Anne."
He has me at Ronnie. Whatever he did or said next is replaced with the image of her greatness. Her smooth shiny espresso-colored hair swaying pleasantly in the air as I imagine her frolicking around the deep green fields behind our school. She has a heart-shaped face, matching her black diamond eyes, cinnamon-toasted skin, and a slim figure that shows off her curves even in our school uniforms.
She has everything guys wanted and more, but most of all she has hands smelted by a Goldsmith. Small and appealing yet soft and warm to the touch. So many things I can imagine her doing with those hands. My daydream can only start to begin swiftly after that
"So, did you tell your sisters about the whole thing?" Eddy asks, his eyes gaping into my own to see if I'm still in my little dream world. Once he brought up my sisters, I wish my mind still was.
"Heavens no old chum." My eyes roll. "I don't want them meddling in my business again. This is my perfect opportunity, as long as all of them stay out of it."
"I don't know Lincoln. You should appreciate that your sisters care about you enough to try and help. Besides, she finds it sweet how your sisters think so highly of you.
His words sink deep with frustration like a ship just blown to bits by hundreds of cannonballs. Him being an only child, he would never understand. The fact that he didn't comprehend even a tiny bit disappoints me.
What hurt the most was the reminder of her words. Sweet. The only thing I ever disliked coming from her mouth. I need to... I want to be the man she deserves. And to that, I need to prove myself.
My father told me once "Son, Sweetness is a true man's poison."
His body lies deep below the earth now. I don't get it. If I want to be a man, why do I tolerate such sweetness? It doesn't feel like poison, yet its outcomes are just as deadly. My father would rise, spitting on my own grave hearing me think like this, and I would never rise to face him. My face already looks up at him as it is.
I remember my father always telling us stories as if he saw Halley's comet over 20 times. I hope to live and remember something comparable to that of Halley's comet. A 75-year life experience. I'll be making the best out of that time and so much more. It's destiny's calling, he would always say. It's destiny's calling.
I just hope he was right.
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