Combustion

red giant: seven

I was not excited about the start of sophomore year. Unlike the past year, I had a group of friends to talk to before the bell rang. There would be no Mr. Russel-esque moment that day. The thing was, we had already seen each other so much over the summer that I didn't really have much to talk about. I would spend this year again in stupefied silence doing much more listening than talking.

Of course, there were things that I could talk about that you hadn't heard before, but they didn't exactly seem appropriate. And since I barely had the confidence to enter grocery aisles where other shoppers were present, I doubted I could have mustered up the courage for any of the wild proclamations that screamed through my brain whenever you were there.

You had not dressed up for the first day back. Unlike the rest of the school, who were obviously frazzled by the earlier awakening and trying too hard to look energized what with polo shirts or summer dresses, you were genuinely electrified. I'm sure you had something to talk about- your hair springing with excitement, and your hand gestures fluttering through the air. You were one of the few who were excited about school restarting. It was nice to see that the enthusiasm was still alive in some.

At the time, I did not see any reason to be excited. It would be the same old first day routine. It would be all introductions and syllabuses and a lot of papers requiring parent signatures. Then, we would be plunged back into stacks of homework, and life would be leeched out of us. This would just be the beginning of recovering all of the stuff we forgot about over the summer. There would be essays and homework. I was sure that it would be a drag to everyone, except maybe you. Last year, it had seemed that you had all the time in the world. You liked nothing more than having everything thrown at you at once and ripping it all apart to move on to the next big project. Or if it didn't interest you, you would feel no remorse with leaving it behind.

However, I finally realized that the beginning of the school year is exciting in the way that New Year's is exciting. This year could be better or it could be worse. There are a million unforeseen paths that we could venture on to, and there is nothing we could do about it. You loved it because the future is so messy. There was nothing more exciting than unpredictability. Taking what you can and running furiously with your path blazing furiously behind you.

Maybe we were both composing resolutions. You, to keep the fire burning, continue looking ahead rather than behind, burn through life like a firecracker. Me, to follow in the aftermath of your dazzle and attempt to collect whatever sparkle you'd left behind.

You didn't say anything quite so visionary, but I'm sure you were envisioning many things that could occur over sophomore year. Maybe you'd fail a test or bring home straight A's. There could be at teacher you hate or a lab partner you'd fall in love with. Maybe you'd kiss someone or get a detention or finally learn how to play that piano. Whatever it was that the future had in store, you were going to take it as it came. You would not change the sails in the face of the storm. You would only power through, undeterred, not listening to any instruction except that of your heart.

The thing with you was that you saw each of these brief alternate realities with such clarity that they might as well have actually occurred. They seemed so possible, so tangible to you that you couldn't help but feel excited. I, on the other hand, while also composed of fantasies and daydreams, thought that there was a distinct border between the events in my head and the way things would inevitably play out. So even though there wasn't a day that I didn't imagine your wandering eyes were for me, that maybe I would be the thing you'd focus on for just a little bit, I was not wholly convinced that my thoughts would become real even in the face of the new school year. I certainly did not fathom a reality where I would take charge, but sometimes things happen that I can't explain. I suppose you were a bundle of peculiar instances.

Anyways, the year starts with Aaron telling us how he would be getting his licence in less than two week's time. You were begging him to give you a ride to and from school so that you could sing along to music and have only one person yell at you. The thought of you singing unabashedly along to a song on your iPod during your bus ride home made me smile. The bus interior so stuffy and gray, but your voice adding all the character it needed.

As the warning bell rang, signalling us all to our first period class, you were excited about the idea of newness. Really everything was new. There are some things that cannot be planned, no matter how much I desired for a simple solution to exist. I am not agile enough to handle everything that life throws at me. There are so many curveballs and so many turns to be taken, that I can't help but feel a little lost because of it all. There is a difference between being excited and being overwhelmed.

I liked the idea of spontaneity, of acting on impulses and creating while the fire is still hot. I just always thought it was beautiful how you could take something freshly awakened in your mind and create it in reality. There was no thought or hesitation, and everything that happened always seemed so pure.

You were never afraid of being burned, and I could see you charging head on into the forest fire of high school. There was never a doubt in my mind that it would be you who came out unscathed, and the rest of the student body would be burned by your presence.

I also liked the idea of you, and how you were all impulse and wildness. There were a thousand adventures that you had not planned that laid in front of you. There was creation and destruction. I liked the idea of you and I sitting in the back of my car (once I finally got a car and a license) watching the sunset or maybe the sunrise or whichever you preferred. Maybe we'd watch both. I liked the idea of staying up with a bowl of popcorn watching cartoons meant for kids or a horror movie to remind us that we were alive. I liked the idea of homecoming and spirit days and seeing you for the school hours and then the hours after. I liked the idea of making up constellations and walking around lakes. I liked the idea of more horrid dancing and music-filled days. I liked the idea of you and me together for a long time.

And I guess I was not as spontaneous as you, because I could see all these moments, but it would take me a while to act on them. I felt horrifically cowardly in the face of a person so brave. But it was the beginning of the school year, and anything could happen. With you in my life, that was something that I was sure of.

The doors were open. There was much to discover about us. Eventually, I would also be consumed by your flaming personality, and I can't say that I minded in the slightest. You were proof that ideas were not meant to stay locked in minds, but I could never completely disregard caution in a way that you made seem terrifyingly easy.

I settled into a seat in the corner of the room, imagining all the ways to move at ten thousand miles an hour.

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wrote this a while back, but it's pretty subpar. on the other hand, i think i know where this story is heading now, so that's good. hopefully i can be motivated enough to finish it up. thanks for reading.