In The Spotlight

Firey- Middle School Reunion

I can't believe I'm really here. I was a C student. I'm standing in front of a live studio audience, smiling into a camera, when it hits me. It was only a month ago that I was on my sofa, partaking in a drunken dare.

It had been the middle of January. Which is my least favorite time of year, by the way. It's too cold, and the extreme high of the holidays soars into even lower lows. Winter was making me bored to death and stuck inside.

But, thanks to the magic of Christmas and the spirit of giving, I was bored to death and stuck inside with booze.

I was getting tired of lying in bed and not moving for hours, so I sat up a bit and grabbed my phone. I need to have someone over. Force myself to change into clothes on a Saturday.

I text pretty much all of my friends. Most of them tell me they're busy. The other's say they're too tired. Which is weird, honestly. I didn't know you could be too tired to drink with one other person at 8:00.

I scroll through my contacts, inviting anyone and everyone. No one says they'll be there. It got to the point that there's only person left who might even for a second consider coming over.

Hey. You wanna hang out at my place?

Kind of weird, considering I haven't really seen him in months.

No thanks, ginger.

Yikes. I hadn't really thought he'd respond so quickly. Maybe the alcohol will persuade him?

You sure? I've got tequila and margarita mix.

I slipped the phone into my pocket and finally left my bedroom. I had almost reached the bathroom when my pocket buzzed.

What time?

Water had never had much of an effect on my hair, but it never kept me from trying. I wrestled with it for a moment, then decided to give up. I stared in the mirror, trying to figure out how to tackle my zits. Realizing how dumb that was, I started laughing at myself. My old middle school friend was coming over, and I was worried about acne.

I looked down at my outfit. Nothing special, but we're not going anywhere, so it'll probably be fine. I didn't smell great though. I spayed some deodorant, poured two drinks (even though I knew that wouldn't even begin to be enough), and turned the TV on.

Sometimes I worry whether I'm grown up enough. It makes me worry about meaningless things, like what channel I put on in the background. I decided on HGTV. It seems pretty adult-ish. Plus, even though I'd never tell anyone, I kind of have a soft spot for Fixer Upper.

I scrolled through instagram until I heard my doorbell ring. I walked over to the entryway, eager to talk to anyone but my reflection. I open the door, and it squeaks so loudly that it hurts my ears a bit.

"Hello fireboy." His voice always has a threatening tone, as if I'm not twice his size. That's ignoring the giant coat restricting his range of motion to a few inches.

"How are you doing Coiny?"

At first, we had been pretty bitter. Each of us blamed the other for never hanging out in the past. After a drink or two though, things were loosening up.

"You wanna know why we work?" I asked him, with eyes wide. I presented it to him as a question as if I wouldn't tell him the answer anyway.

"Sure. I think I know but go ahead." He said.

"It's because we're two sides of the same coin. Super competitive, cool, and kind of overbearing sometimes." I listed numbers out on my fingers like I was counting. "We argue because we're so similar."

He looked at me like I'd told him I wet my socks before wearing them. "You go on believing that!"

"Okay, well why do you think we go so well together?" He smirked like he was hoping I'd ask him that.

"We balance out. I'm brutally honest, and you're out-of-your-mind-delusional." He looked so proud of himself for that one.

All of the sudden, an ad came on that was much louder than the show itself. I hate that, by the way. "Do you like money?" Said the person in the video. "Are you smart? Sign up for our program at this site!" The person was too enthusiastic. No one under the age of 60 is that excited about a 'program.'

"Our new revolutionary game show is looking for sign ups! " they continued. Their hair covered a lot of their face, making them look sort of mysterious. "As yet untitled, the show will focus on each player's intelligence. Think you've got what it takes? Try your luck!" Then the ad ended and the screen returned to a home renovation show.

"Dude, I've always wanted to be in a game show." Coiny said, as he turned over to me.

"I'll sign up if you do." I said. It felt like our middle school days. Having sleepovers in the living room, daring each other to do stupid things.

"Hell yeah!" He said. "Just wait until the commercial comes on again. Then we can use the link."

For the next couple of minutes, we watched TV, hoping for the ad to play. Along the way we made fun of the spray tanned show host, the awful design choices, and the cringe jokes. I snorted at Coiny's impression of one of the guests.

Finally, the ad once again offered the website, and when I put it into google, I was taken to a form. It had some basic information, name, phone number, email, age. I filled it out, not even really thinking about it. Of course, if I had been firing on all cylinders, I would have checked to make sure this website was legit before telling it everything about me.

Once I got through that, it asked gave me some trivia questions. I didn't think I'd do very well at this part.

Who was the quarterback of the 1987 Miami Dolphins?

I've never been much of a sports guy, so I must have just picked this one up from others' conversations. Nevertheless, I typed Dan Marino and moved on.

Which scholar discovered the Earth's size and shape?

I learned this in 6th grade world history class. I stored this mostly as a fun fact because many people still thought it was Columbus. I answered Eratosthenes and continued.

I found myself knowing way more than I expected myself to. Nepal. The Battle of Baltimore. Yuri Gagarin. 42.

There ended up being 100 questions. I felt I did decently on them. Once I reached the end, a screen saying they'll be in touch appeared.

I looked over at Coiny. He seemed to have finished way before I did. "I am so tired after that. It used like, all of my brain power." He said, rubbing his eyes.

"At ten o'clock? Okay, old man." I said. He rolled his eyes.

"I'm gonna head out." He said as he put his humongous jacket back on.

"Night. See ya!" I waved goodbye to him for the night. "Tell me if they call you 'bout the show!"

As he walked out the door, he said, "I will, but I'm not giving you any money once I'm filthy rich from it."

I had all but forgotten about the show by the time I had fallen asleep that night. I was more preoccupied by the prospect of us being friends again.

So the texts I got the next morning really confused me at first.

(A/N: I've been working on this for a while, and I'm really liking it. I hope you enjoy it too! 1286 words. Song for the day: Mulberry Street- 21 Pilots)