I woke up the first day of school in August hoping that the day would be normal. I dressed in black skinnies, a Metallica shirt and my Converse. I ran a brush through my hair, pulled it back, had a quick breakfast, and drove to school in my '66 Chevy shortbed pickup truck. I love that truck. I got out with my bag and saw a guy walking in my direction.
"I'm Jordan," he said. "Are you new too?" I shook my head no. "Oh. Well, I'm Jordan. It's customary to tell the person your name after they've introduced themselves." I stared at him blankly. "Suit yourself. I'll call you... Lizzie. Because you're so pleasant and pleasant people are usually named Lizzie." I scrunched my nose. I walked up to my locker, Jordan following. He pulled out a piece of paper. "Oh hey, look! We're locker neighbors!" I rolled my eyes. "You know, the best friendships are because people are neighbors." I faced him, sat in a hip, and said one of the worst things you can say to your future best friend. But what can I say, I didn't know that at the time. Obviously.
"Look. I don't tolerate all this bubbliness. If you're gonna be this happy, go away and find someone else to bug, because I sure don't wanna hear it. And my name is Emi. If you make the decision to stick with me, learn what my facial expressions mean so we can continue conversations easily." I grabbed my books, slammed my locker and walked away. Jordan fell into step beside me. Which is like, insanely hard to do because my legs are really long so my strides are very long and loping. I walked into history and sat down, prepared for the day.
The morning passed without a hitch. Jordan, luckily, wasn't in any of my classes. He found me before lunch though. We headed out to that giant sycamore in front of the school. I pulled out my lunch: salad, fruit, and tea. And now Jordan. He saw my lunch and laughed. I punched him. In my defense, it wasn't as hard as I can punch. Just sayin'.
"Wow, you have fire power," Jordan said, rubbing his arm.
"What, just because I'm a girl I can't punch? I woulda thought that my appearance would've warned you otherwise." He shrugged, and I leaned back against the trunk of the sycamore with my salad.
"Well, you sure don't look like you have the muscle to punch that hard," he mumbled.
"I heard that. And duh. You got muscle?"
"No, not really. I should. Can I join you one day?"
"If you can handle it." I grinned.
"Holy crap it smiles!" I rolled my eyes and punched him again. "Ow! Would you quit that?"
"Never!" I shouted, laughing.
"Then I have only one choice." He tackled me, catching me off-guard, and tickled me. I screamed with laughter.
"Will you get off of me?" People stared, but I sent some glares in their directions and they looked away. Jordan laughed and flopped on the ground beside me. I left him there, and we finished lunch in silence. The bell rang and I headed to class.
At the end of the day, I drove home after shrugging Jordan off my trail. I sat and did my homework, Jordan on my mind.
That's probably when I decided he wasn't half bad.
