Shoelaces

Pit Stains

Did I survive the school day on Tuesday? Yes. Did I spend the whole day thinking about Santiago? Yes. Did that lead me to say that the major fault line in California is the Santiago Fault in my environmental science class? Yes. Did that lead to my untimely death? No, but I really wish it did. As soon as the bell rang in that class, I picked up my bag and bolted outside, hoping that the whole class could just forget that I existed. That led me to stand in the quad, by myself as always, looking for Jazmine. Her practice doesn't start for a bit, so we usually talk until she has to go. Unless she has another game today... No, no, she didn't tell me, so she should be here. My heart rate starts to pick up, and I feel the sweat begin to accumulate in my pits. Anxiety sweat is the worst. Truly the work of the devil. Instead of your body doing something to help you as you freak out, it decides to produce pit stains which will only further your issue. Great work. More people pile into the quad, yet I'm still all alone in the very center. I stand on my tiptoes to try to get a better view (okay, I'm not short, but I'm definitely not tall. Just a nice average. The story of my life) but I can't find Jazmine anywhere. Maybe I should just cut my losses and head to the bike rack. I turn on my heels to start heading in that direction, which causes me to bump into somebody who was standing right behind me.

I keep my eyes on the ground, muttering out a quick apology, yet the voice of the person just laughs. I look up. It's Jazmine.

"You're such a mess!" She laughs and playfully punches me on the shoulder. She starts to walk in the direction that I was going, prompting me to catch up to her. "How was your day?" she continues, turning over to look at me.

"Uh, it was fine. I made a fool of myself in science, as usual."

"What did you do this time?" she asks in a playful, interrogative tone. Blush starts to creep onto my face, just like it did in APES.

"Don't wanna talk about it." I turn to face the front, but I still feel her eyes on me. She laughs once more.

"You think you're so private and reserved, Goob, but I can read you like a book." She pauses, before exposing my secret to the world. Well, really just the two of us. But still, I would just prefer to forget about this forever. Maybe I should ask to play soccer with her so I can get a concussion. That could work. I think memories are stored in the hippocampus, so maybe, if she headbutts me right in the temporal lobe, the memory will just plop out of my head like a fish out of water. Poor little guy. "Something about Santiago, wasn't it?"

"No," I respond. I'm still a terrible liar.

"Don't lie to such a pretty face." I turn back to face her.

"Okay, maybe Santiago had something, a little tiny bit to do with it."

"Goob!" She blurts out, rather aggressively.

"Okay, okay! Yes, it had everything to do with Sant-"

"No, watch-"

That's when I bonk into a tree at the edge of the quad, headfirst. I stumble backward, trying not to fall. Darrion, you are a mess. Plain and simple. The worst part is, the tree made contact with my forehead, meaning it would only hit the frontal lobe. I should have crab-walked- crab ran into it.

"-out!" Jazmine finishes. She physically holds in her laughter by covering her mouth with the palm of her hand, probably to restrain her laughter until she figures out if I'm actually injured or upset. Once I finally have solid footing, I answer her internal question. I start laughing, covering my face with both of my hands, and dragging them down. She joins me in laughter and slings her arm over my shoulder, guiding me to a bench next to my arch-nemetree. See what I did there? Good, huh?

We stop laughing, which takes a surprisingly long amount of time due to the fact I laugh harder after she starts snorting which causes her to laugh more which altogether makes us laugh until we can't breathe. I tell her my embarrassing story from science, and she comforts me by telling me I at least got three letters correct. I mean, she's not wrong. We reach a pause in our conversations, and the question I did not want to hear is already tickling my back.