When It Makes Perfectly Illogical Sense

Chapter 2

Somehow, I managed to show up to my classroom late. I didn't dawdle or get distracted along the way, so I didn't know how that was possible. I didn't make a big deal of it and slipped in next to a guy sitting in the middle row. Luckily, my music teacher had his back to the class, wiping the previous day's writing off the board. I straightened my chair and focused my attention to the front. I was wearing a forest-green flannel over a white t-shirt, with a pair of dark-blue jeans. I remember when Mr Moroz – my music teacher – told me I looked like I could be a country singer. Except for the fact I couldn't sing. I loved Mr Moroz, because he had so many things about him that inspired me.

"Okay class," he said, making eye contact with me for a brief second. "Today, we're going to be talking about the importance of being able to read music notes." His greying hair was a messy pile on top of his head, and his light eyes made him look like he was in his late thirties. I didn't think of Mr Moroz as a middle-aged man. I straightened my posture and got ready for what he had to surprise me with. This class never disappointed me.

At lunch, I trailed behind a group of boys from my Digital Tech class.

"You know what Mrs Pakington reminds me of? A Styrofoam peanut. You know those things that they package your glassware in? I mean, her last name is even Pakington!" I said. Mrs Pakington was our Digital Technologies teacher.

The boys stared at me funny, then smirked at each other.

"Why don't you go... play guitar or something?" said Rider, the rough and tough one of the group.

"Yeah, isn't that what you always do?" asked Garret. I squared my shoulders and furrowed my brow.

"Whatever," I said. "Sure. At least my guitar gets my humour." I turned on my heel and left. When I got to the Music room, I realized how much of an idiot I probably looked to them. Did I really just act like my guitar is a living being? Ugh, what's wrong with me! Before I could go inside the classroom, two girls approached me.

"Hey, Dallas," one of them said, touching my arm. "Why are you all alone?"

"It's really no big deal," I said. "I like it this way."

"So, you wouldn't want us keeping you company?" she asked. I subtly rolled my eyes.

"Thanks girls, but I'm good." With that, I stepped into the Music room and closed the door.

After school, I made my way to the community centre. Not for any particular reason, of course. Pfft, no! I just wanted to relax in a peaceful environment... and maybe see the girl from the previous day.

When I arrived, I looked around to see if I could spot her, but I couldn't. So, I went over to the vending machine and put in a two dollar note. I wanted to buy a Coke. It clattered down into the space at the bottom of the machine, and I pulled it out. May as well do my homework while I'm here. And that's what I did. I sat in the corner of the centre and knuckled down on my schoolwork.

At around seven PM, I got home to our cosy residence. My family's house was a very warm, comfortable feeling place. With the yellow walls and the new, but not modern looking furniture. It wasn't too small, either. I'd grown up in this house.

I walked through the loungeroom, to the kitchen, where my parents were waiting for me.

"Hey there, my mischief," said Mom, pausing what she was doing to look at me. 'My mischief' was what she had called me since I was a baby. "Did you get all your homework done?"

"Kinda," I said. "I've just got to finish one major assignment, then I'll be free." Mom looked the most put together in the family. Her shiny smile, and greeny-brown eyes. Just like mine.

"Good for you," she said. "You know, we should go out sometime to celebrate your hard work this semester." Dad smiled and leaned forward on the kitchen counter.

"That doesn't sound half bad," he said. "I vote the Outback Steakhouse." Dad's brown hair was thick and reflected the house lights. His face had always seemed to closely resemble mine.

I hated the Outback Steakhouse, and I definitely wasn't going there again. Nothing bad happened, I just liked basic American food, over heavily deep-fried Australian wildlife. Luckily, Mom saved me this time.

"No, Dallas can choose," she said.

"Okay, okay, calm down," said Dad. "We can go to McDonalds if he really wants to."

"Thanks guys," I said. "I'll have to think about it." Mom continued to make the meal we were having for dinner, which happened to be Cold Rolls. She liked to create different culture's food, rather than American cuisine. She was a pretty good cook.

On Saturday, I went for a walk through the town Crestone. We lived on the edge of this little Colorado township and it always gave me inspiration for music. I was looking for that around about now. As I passed the strange temples and signs talking about the Crestone Ziggurat – I'd always wanted to visit that – I thought I heard a familiar voice. It was low and sweet, sort of like the sound of an acoustic guitar. I listened, enchanted by the familiarity of it. My eyes found someone, and I swear I stopped breathing. It was her.

"Thanks, have a good day," she said. She was talking to a man, who must have been a local in Crestone. I wanted to move forward, but it was like my feet were glued to the ground. I felt as if I was losing myself in her ambience. Although, she seemed out of her regular comfort precinct and didn't look as calm as she had been back at the community centre. I finally was able to bring myself to head towards her, when a girl wearing a plaid skirt, came running up. She grinned at the girl with the grey eyes and began to drag her in the opposite direction. To my luck, she had reluctance written on her face and didn't go any further.

"Wait, I barely ever come here. I think we should get proper directions before we go any further."

"You need to chill," said the girl with the plaid skirt. "We can get directions along the way."

"That's easy for you to say. You check out new towns all the time. I like to be in charge of situations, okay? And right now, I need someone to tell me where to go," said the second girl. I felt weird just staring at them, but what else was I going to do?

She huffed and when she lifted her eyes, she met mine. I cleared my throat awkwardly, but she started towards me. This is either gonna be really uncomfortable, or the Disney Channel epic...

"Are you staring at me?" she asked, light-heartedly. She gave me a playful look.

"S-Sorry," I said. "I didn't think I'd see you here, in Crestone." She pointed at her friend.

"Sienna, here, wanted to take a look at all of the famous things Crestone's known for." I smiled, then peered over her shoulder at the girl with the plaid skirt. That was Sienna. She had long black hair, light-tan skin, and deep brown eyes. She also looked as if she was half Chinese, or some other Asian culture.

"And what's your name?" I asked.

"Oh, I'm Presley," said the girl. She looked from me, down to the ground. "I probably should've told you when we spoke at the community centre."

"Well, now I know. I'm Dallas."

She met my stare again. "Huh... what, were you born there, or something?" She had a teasing gleam in her eyes.

I rolled my eyes, playfully. "Actually, I was born here. In Colorado." She giggled, then Sienna interrupted us.

"Sorry to butt in," she said. "Presley, are we gonna go?" I was suddenly awkward.

"Oh, yeah," said Presley. "I forgot what we were here to do. I guess I'll see you 'round?" I didn't say anything, but as she went to walk away, I grabbed her arm.