Daydreams (An Owl City Fan Fiction)

Chapter 2 - Nostalgia

"Breathe. Just breathe. No one is staring at you. No one is staring at you. No one."

I mumbled under my breath, unsuccessfully reassuring myself in the process. I swear I could hear everybody laughing at the back of my head. I could feel their burning stares boring on my skin.

I carefully balanced the tower of textbooks in both my already shaking hands. I clutched them closer to me, anxious that they might fall off and lead to my further humiliation. The corridors were crowded, as usual, so I had no choice but to cross the parking lot and make my way to the library. I trudged forward unsteadily I almost tripped. Oh, for the sake of the love of God! I was lucky enough to remain standing.

The afternoon sun was casting its blinding sparkle so I could not see clearly where I was going. Plus, the books were blocking my line of sight. Yet I kept on walking, hugging the wobbly tower of volumes, paying no heed to the sneering students passing by.

But woe! I was roughly halfway through the dusty parking space when the most terrible thing, the very thing that I was worried to happen to me, caught me by surprise. Something, no, someone, had hit me.

I was certain it was someone.

The whole thing happened so fast all I could utter was an exaggerated squeal. The books I was once holding flew in all directions. I found myself sprawled on the scorching cement, with a black skateboard sitting lazily on my side. I was numb for a moment, until I felt the aching on my head and the stinging sensation on my right arm.

"Ow." I forced myself to sit up, but a hazy outline of a tall, skinny guy came to my rescue. I squinted through the daylight, trying to have a clear vision of this mysterious lad. Was he a knight in shining armor? Or perhaps a magical prince from a far, far away castle riding a snowy horse?

I must've hit my head really hard on the pavement.

"H-hey... I-I'm so sorry. I didn't see you. Are you okay? Here, here, let me help you..."

My high hopes crumbled down like cookies as he helped me get up on my feet. He's neither a knight nor a prince. NOT AT ALL. I saw the skateboard on my peripheral vision, apparently, HIS skateboard. My blood pressure skyrocketed through the atmosphere. I poked him, burying my finger in his chest.

"You!" I glared angrily at him. "Of all people, why me? WHY ME?"

He mentioned his apologies over and over again. I was a little lightheaded and much too furious that time I couldn't respond to his pleadings. I, however, managed to keep myself firm even though my knees were trembling. I warily wandered my eyes all around. Nobody was there. Nobody. Except for the textbooks lying on the ground, nobody else had witnessed the horrible collision. It was just between me, him, and those pages swaying in the afternoon breeze.

I started picking up the books one by one with my good left arm. He must have seen the raw scratches on my other arm because he's apologizing all over again.

"Look, I... I am truly sorry for what happened. I-I didn't mean to... to... y-you know... run over you."

I kept on scowling at him, though I could hear the sincerity in his voice. The throbbing in my head and the sting in my arm were already getting in my nerves, coupled with his redundant requests for forgiveness. I was like a ticking bomb.

I looked up to him so I could give him a long sermon, but instead, I gasped as a rivulet of red fluid trickled down just above his eyebrow. My wrath suddenly evaporated and turned into a deep concern. There was blood on his forehead, for crying out loud.

"Y-your head... blood... Y-you're bleeding." I stuttered.

"I'm w-what?!" He winced slightly as he attempted to touch the small gash on his forehead. "Oh, snap."

I could not remember how the two of us got in the school clinic. There I was, sat on a springy cot, holding an ice bag on my head. The nurse had already cleaned the bruises on my arm and had it wrapped up nicely. It still hurt but I felt much better. Sigh. I just wanted to go home and have some hot chocolate. I laid back, closed my eyes and made myself comfortable against the cottony soft pillow. Then I felt someone watching me, making me bolt upright. The boy was peeking shyly from behind the blue curtains. There was a small bandage covering the wound on his forehead. He strutted towards me, swinging his skateboard on his side before resting it on the foot of the cot.

"H-hi. How are you feeling? I...I'm really so- -"

I cut him off before he could launch into yet another apology streak.

"Please. Enough with the apologies, okay?"

He just nodded and smiled a smile of relief. I beamed back at him and held out my hand.

"Breanne. My name is Breanne Duren. Just call me Bre."

He stared at my waiting hand for a full 5 seconds looking flabbergasted before he reacted.

"Oh. A-Adam Young. I'm Adam Young." He laughed nervously. "I was... I was a bit stunned 'cause y-you're the first person who ever talked to me. Like, seriously, I... I never had friends before."

I chuckled to myself. "Well... I guess that makes two of us."

There was a moment of hush before we both burst out giggling. We talked and talked, discussing casual stuff while we waited for the nurse to discharge us. You know, the 'getting-to-know-each-other' sort of conversation. Minutes later, the school nurse came back with our discharge papers. At last, I could go home.

The school hallways were already empty when we exited the clinic. It was getting dark. I checked my wristwatch. It says 10 minutes past 6. Two hours. I spent two hours in the school clinic. Great. Just great.

We walked along silently, until he broke the quiet space between us.

"Uhm... Bre, I was wondering. Hmm... I was wondering if... if..." He took a mouthful of air before continuing to speak. "I-I was wondering if we could be... friends? Can we be friends?"

I stopped on my tracks and had a fit of laughter at his question. He tilted his head and gave me a 'what's wrong with you' look. It took me half a minute to pull through. I bit my lower lip so that I could refrain from laughing.

"Of course, you silly. We can be friends."

He pulled me into a bear hug and spun me around like a carousel ride.

"Oops... Sorry. I'm... I'm just ridiculously happy."

I frowned at him. "Seriously, Adam, when will you stop saying you're sorry?"

"Sor--err. Guess I'll have to work on that." He scratched his head and made a face. "Whatever. So... friends?"

I nodded in agreement and clinched my left arm to his right and gave him a wide grin.

"Friends."

A smile crept on my face upon my reminiscence. We became best friends ever since that 'disaster'. The rest of our friendship tale was history.