new york wonders [joshler]

III

::.Josh.::

Brendon and I sat in Trig Stat, bored out of our minds. So far, Mr. Cameron was a cool teacher, but today was just a day for going over the syllabus. Eventually, I decided that it wasn't even worth listening; I would just read it on my own later. Brendon looked over at me every once in a while, catching my eye a few times.

"Hello?" I heard someone say, and I looked up, "Mr. Dun, do you mind paying attention?" My teacher announced, holding the seating chart in his hands. I blushed and apologized, stumbling over my words. Brendon chuckled and looked back to the front of the class, eyes focused on the whiteboard.

Trig Stat dragged on, and the bell rang at 8:14, exactly an hour after sitting in this class. I picked up my books and rushed out of class, looking at my schedule. I must have walked out too fast, because I saw Brendon running to catch up with me.

"I have AP Lang with Demarco next hour, how about you?" I asked Brendon, keeping my eyes on the floor, watching my feet stride across the linoleum. "I have him too, let's go." As we walked, I started thinking of that kid from the blue car. He reminded me of Vincent van Gogh; beautiful yet haunting. I had a sudden urge to talk to this boy, even though I was far too frightened to talk to people like him.

"Josh! You alive?" I felt someone punch my arm, startling me out of my thoughts. It was Brendon, looking down at me.

"Sorry, I'm just thinking." I begged my pardon to him and continued to walk. Once we got to the class, Mr. Demarco was standing at the doorway.

"Pick your seats, I'll change them if I have to," He told us, in a raspy voice. Brendon and I sat in the front since we were actually looking forward to this class. The bell rang at 8:19 and Mr. Demarco walked in. He had sort of a limp, but nothing too serious. Demarco pulled out a box of books, struggling to carry it.

"Do you need help Mr. Demarco?" I asked him, slowly standing up. He accepted the offer and I awkwardly shuffled in front of the class, uncomfortable being in front of everyone. I peeked into the box and saw that it contained The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald. Luckily, that was my favorite book, so I wouldn't have any trouble reading it. Demarco asked me to hand the books out to everyone, which I obliged to with hesitation.

I dragged my feet up and down the rows, and my inner voices came out.

Someone will notice you. You're going to get talked about.

I ignored the voice and continued handing out the books. As I was walking down a row, someone's foot hit mine and I went flying. He was right. I looked up from the floor to see three laughing boys. I easily pointed out the person who tripped me. He had black hair with a bit of blonde at the top, resembling a skunk. His long face frame moved as he laughed at the gesture that wasn't at all funny. I slowly picked myself and the books up, passing the rest out.

"Mr. Barakat. Please come to my desk," The teacher said, irritated. The boy who tripped me walked up to the front, turning back to grin at his friends. I heard mumbled words, but not loud enough to be audible coming from Mr. Demarco.

"You may go back to your seat now, Jack," Jack walked back to his seat with a pink carbon copy slip in his hands. Evidently, he got a referral. The kid who tripped me, I had already forgotten his name, pulled out his book and started reading, too embarrassed to be talked to.

You're so pathetic. You can't even remember someone's name.

Please. No. Not right now.

You see, I have an odd relationship with names. They're all basically the same, so I don't usually ask people for them. I don't know how many people in the world are named Joshua Dun, although all of them must be completely different from me. So, names don't really mean much to me, I remember the more important things. I remember people's favorite color, favorite food, or even their favorite pencil they use every day. Now, it may sound creepy, but it's just how I work. It's always embarrassing to ask people for their name for the umpteenth time, so I just make up a nickname for them.