Gray Zones

One

Okay, this is how it really happened. I promise that this time, my mind is completely sane. I am not under the influence of alcohol, drugs, or any other foreign substance. I am absolutely capable of recounting the story in it's entirety.

On January 11th, 2014, I had hit rock bottom in my short life. I was 17 years old and also a junior at Madison High School in the southeastern district of Houston, Texas. I was living in my dad's house about fifteen minutes from the school at the time. Every morning, I would wake up at 7:10 and take a shower, brush my teeth, have a quick protein shake, and check my Twitter, Instagram, and Snapchat. Then I would go downstairs, grab my backpack and gym bag for basketball practice, and then walk to school, and depending on the amount of time I had, I would either take the regular or the "scenic" route.

   The regular way to school was a straight shot fifteen minute walk to school. Usually, the people in the houses there were either inside or at work. No one really bothered you, the street was never that busy, and there were some green patches of flowers and other plants growing from the sides of the streets. There was also good shade from the trees that hung over the pathway on the sidewalk. Everything went well there. But that was boring.

   The scenic route was my favorite. It took thirty five minutes to get to school this way, but it went through the rough side of town. People usually were outside with a Corona and a pistol in their garages working on some project or another. This didn't get to me in large part because I knew a lot of these people. And these people were often misjudged by the rest of the city. They were known as thugs and criminals but most of them just had their radios and their beers and were fine with not bothering anyone. When I would walk the cracked and dry pavement leading up to their houses, they would usually greet me.

   "Aye Brandon!" I hear from behind me. It was one of my best friends, Quinn. "Hey Q." I say, meeting up with him as we start walking down the streets together. I look at the hazy sun starting to rise up in the horizon. I feel the chilly air and the sun seems like a jalapeño on a block of ice. It does no good to this type of weather. Quinn nudges my shoulder, breaking my trail of thought. "Hey Brandon, did you hear about Jessica and her friends bro?" I think about that girl for a second. I had a crush on her since freshman year, but I always kept it on the down low, because I knew she was the one in my heart so I didn't want to get with her until I had matured enough. But now my own friends were calling me out. The pressure was on to make a move. "No, what about them?" I ask Quinn, hoping for some useful information, something I rarely got out of him. Quinn glances behind his back, then looks back at me. We turn a corner and he proceeds to tell me the news. "Okay, so I know in the past that you have liked Jessica, and you know that we have playoffs for basketball this week." I nod. "Yea. What does that have to do with anything though?" Damn. Quinn never tells me anything new. I look down the road at the sky that is slowly starting to become a canvas to the blue paint that will be brushed across it as it is each day. I realize that I am freezing cold and have nothing but a short sleeve shirt on with jeans and my Jordan Bordeaux Camo's. I reach into my backpack, only slowing down a little, and after a little bit of searching through the mess I find my Oakland Raiders hoodie. My favorite team in all sports, thanks to my grandfather who showed me that a die-hard Raiders fan always stayed a Raider. (Even if they weren't exactly good these past couple of years.) "Damn, Brandon. Can't believe you wear that hoodie, dog." I stare at him with a disappointed expression on my face. He knows I've told him this story at least a hundred times before over the past winters we've been going to Madison High. "Quinn, you know why I wear this hoodie, I've told you one too many times. Don't tell me you don't remember." Quinn smirks slightly. "No I don't remember. Why don't you tell me the story again for good measure?" I give him a brotherly shove. "Yea right. You know it was my grandpa's. I'm not gonna elaborate." Quinn looks disappointed and satisfied at the same time. "Okay, okay. Let's just go to school. I got a lot to do today, Mr. Thompson is giving us a test today in physics. My face drops. "Are you kidding?!" Honestly, I had forgotten all about that stupid test. But I was too tired to study now. "I guess I'll study at lunch or something. I took notes anyway." Quinn laughs genuinely. "Now that's a first for Brandon Savage." True. At least in his eyes. I always study for tests. I have been an all A student since 4th grade. But I don't make those grades public or anything. At school I just act like an average student just getting by. In reality, I know I can at least get a low A on this test. And that's good, because today is the day that I'm going to ask her out. Finally. I can feel it today. It just seems like the right thing to do. No matter what Quinn or anyone else says. I know I can do this, I believe in myself, and the butterflies in my stomach almost confirm my initial thoughts: this is very real.