The air is brisk going down the freeway of the Oakland Bay bridge.
As I look upon the empty beaches, I reminisce about the time we had gone to Baker's Beach—my first time going to a coastal beach. It was much hotter but the heat was durable. The sand was warm, and the ocean brought in its wind to regulate the temperatures.
It's funny, cause so much happened that day. Stacy and I revealed we were together to the friend group, Skylar posted the vlog and received a million views, Candace had a Shark and boy encounter, I played volleyball for the first time, and a whole lot more went down on that day.
I even remember my second encounter with the female of whom I wish not to speak her name.
~
Stacy was out of sight and so were the others. My face heats up, I tap my thigh rapidly to keep my composure. Not wanting to yell or approach her the wrong way, my plan of action was to just leave where we stood.
"Hi." She says calmly, approaching me with small footsteps.
~
Whenever I think of her, my mind plays feedback of memories, and I remain in an auto-pilot state of mind.
However, I break away from my mental landscape and my eyes are back glancing at the empty beach. I redirect my eyes to Stacy, and she's looking in the same direction but hasn't said a word.
I haven't said a word.
Yet, she's always the one to start a conversation. Turning the volume down, she looks at my hand on the nob.
"You don't like the song?" She's the first to speak.
"Wassup?"
"Wassup?" She questions me back.
"You tell me," I reply. "What's going on?"
"Nothing's going on."
"You're not talking."
"I'm quiet."
"For what reason?"
"I can't be quiet?"
"You're never this quiet, it's been 10 minutes and you haven't said a word."
It's the last thing I say before the car is silent again. She exhales in frustration and stares back out the window. I frown but refrain from getting an attitude.
Maybe it's just me... I think to myself, and I'm getting on her nerves. That's the last thing I wish to do, so I grit my teeth and leave it alone. I turn the volume back up in the car, as we entered the city of San Francisco. There's this tunnel when entering the city. The tunnel was filled with those bronze lights as if they were light poles in the designated country areas. The volume of the music diminished, and that's when I noticed Stacy turning the nob of the volume.
"How do you feel about USC?" She breaks the tension between us both, and my mind is immediately shifted to football.
I look in her direction to question if she was being serious, but by her expression she was.
I respond. "How do you feel about USC?"
"You already know how I feel about USC." She replies. "Now I'm asking you."
It gets dark, for we've now entered the tunnel—the bronze color taints everything underneath them.
"I think it's a nice school, a hell of a football program, and home of some of the world's greatest athletes. Besides you're going there, so it's one of my choices of school right now. What's on your mind?" I question her.
YOU ARE READING
Telegraph Ave: Final Chapter
Teen FictionBook 3 to Telegraph Ave (Read that first) Xavier Dixon, once known as the new kid in the neighborhood, been settled in Oakland, California for 6 months now. He's recently hit the age of 17, and is blossoming into a well known public figure in his c...
