Petrichor

Ryan

        I stared at the blank page in my notebook for what felt like hours. But I couldn't think of anything to write. I'd start something then crumple it up and toss it. I had a serious case of writer's block.

I mean, I had some ideas. But they were all jumbled up in my head, and I had no idea how to get them out. Finally, I just close the notebook and slump back in my chair.

"God, I need a break." I sigh, leaning back in my chair.

Allen picks up my notebook and flips through it. "From doing what? You haven't written a word."

"Hey, writing's hard work I'll have you know," I retort and snatch the book back from him. "You can't force it, it'll come to you when it comes to you."

"Kinda sounds like you're just lazy." He scoffs.

We were in the library. It was our free period and I'd decided to try writing something, anything, in quiet. But I had failed to do so.

"Why are you even here," I comment. "I've never seen you reading a book willingly."

"Uh, you asked me to come here with you," he shoots back, folding his arm and leaning against the table.

I didn't remember doing that.

"Maybe the reason you're finding it hard to write anything interesting," he continues. "Is because you're boring?"

"What- boring?!," I exclaim, shocked. "I'm not boring, I do cool stuff all the time!"

"Yeah, sure bud," he says. Call me crazy but I don't think that yeah was genuine. "Anyways, I'm going to class. I really can't be late for Math again. See ya."

The sheer audacity. Calling me boring. I'm not boring. My life is a roller coaster of exhilarating events. Besides, he's one to talk....

Maybe he's right, maybe I am pretty boring. I sigh, resting my head on the table. I had almost zero experience with what I was trying to write about. But that's why it was called fiction, right?

The school bell rang out. Great. I've got History class now, I sigh. As if I wasn't bored out of my mind enough already.

-----

"Hey. Ryan!"

I look behind me. It's Mikhail. He must also be on his way to class. I walk slower so he can catch up with me.

He jogs up to me, running his hand through his hair.

"I didn't see you at all yesterday, how are-"

"Do you think I'm boring?" I blurt out, interrupting him.