The final school bell rang, and everyone burst out of their classrooms. John made his way to the red lockers and put in his combination. The door swung open and he tuned out the sound of hundreds of excited voices to remember what classes assigned him homework. He grabbed four binders and stacked the other two in the order of what periods they were. He slammed the locker door and pushed his way through the crowds of kids to the main exit. At the front of the school, the students that rode home unhitched their bicycles from the posts. John knelt next to his own and unlocked the chain, tossing it to the side. He swung his leg over the side, and began peddling down the street. Cassy pulled up next to him in their dad's green pickup truck, which looked awkward next the the school busses already pulling out of the school.
"I am going to 16 handles, wanna come with?" She asked.
"No, I don't leave the house 'till I have finished my homework."
"OOOkay, fine." She dragged out the word. John waited for her to drive off, then continued peddling down the street, avoiding the cars. He let his mind wander, but didn't think about anything specific. He didn't notice how many rules there are as he stopped at the traffic light. He didn't think about all the little daily rituals he goes through as he made the sharp turn off Duran street. He never stopped to realize all the silly little things that everyone depends on. The proper use of a loudspeaker, or a locker, or a divider. How we need those things. He didn't even notice how he takes the same shortcuts everyday, how he goes down Oak instead of Christopher street to avoid the dog. He rode into the driveway, without thinking any of those things because we don't even know how much we need the little guidelines and rules. All the silly things that keeps us going. How would anyone feel, knowing how much they depended on them, how they are everywhere. John always thought everything was so insignificant- just a divider to keep your binder organized, just a loudspeaker to be used when you've forgotten your lunchbox. Just things with their own proper uses- if he knew how much he depended on all these things, then maybe he would be a little more empowered. Yet still, John unlocked the door and kicked off his shoes, flinging them neatly into the closet. He went into his room, turned on the lamp and pulled out each of his binders. He opened his English binder; the first period that assigned any homework and began, ignoring the constant thought of Cassy enjoying raspberry and caramel frozen yogurt, with four cherries on top.
