Flying Objects

1

As a nine year old, I wasn't exactly the most liked person on the playground. I didn't know why at the time and to this day I still have no idea why. All I know is, people made fun of me for my name. 

"Jette Thompson is set for lift off," they would tease and giggle simultaneously.

I know it's stupid and it's not smart to get upset about it. But I was nine. How is a quiet nine year old supposed to deal with that situation? By sitting in the corner with her notebook and avoiding everyone. 

But the day they took my notebook was by far the worst. Jack Lakeman, who was the considered the hottest guy in the fourth grade, pried it from my weak hands and began to flip through the pages. 

"Look, Jette wants to become and airplane and fly away," he said revealing my short story to the entire class. Well...all except for one. 

Arrow Smith. His parents were obsessed with the band. People made fun of him for his name more than they did mine. But he was fearless. He was loud. He stood out. 

Flying in like he had just left a bow, Arrow snatched my notebook out of Jack's hands and swiftly made his way over to me. 

"Here, Jette," he said holding it out to me. 

I quickly took it from his hands nodding and went back to my corner. Arrow took care of ridding our classmates from that section of the playground. Once it had grown quiet I assumed I was alone. Until I heard someone plop down next to me. I pulled my head out of the notebook to see Arrow sitting across from me picking up little rocks. 

"That Jack Lakeman is a total jerk," he said tossing a rock to the side. 

I was completely shocked that he was even talking to me. I mean we were nine, but he was considered the troublemaker of our class. We were a small class too. But I didn't think he even knew my name. 

"Yeah, he is," I said.

I turned around slightly so I could see his face and he threw his last pebble before looking up at me. 

"I just wanted to tell you that if you ever need a friend to talk to, you can come to me. I don't have too many friends either."

Once he was finished, the bell rang and we got up to go inside. As he began to walk towards the line, I ran up and tapped his shoulder. 

"My big brother's coming home from college this weekend and he's gonna take me rollerblading. Do you want to come?"

His smile quickly faded to a frown and he proceeded to tell me he didn't know how to rollerblade.

"Neither do I. But he's gonna teach me. He can teach you too. If you want to come."

And in that moment, the flying objects came to be.