Mind and Matter

02 | Leo

The only word that came to my mind when I first stepped foot in this town was picturesque.

The houses resembled the ones depicted in the puzzles I used to spend hours completing as a kid. They were different colors: some were blue like my grandparents', others white or olive green, and a few were made of faded red brick with chimneys big enough for Santa Claus' fat ass to fit in. The grass on everyone's lawns was a shade of green that showed there was a person behind it who cared for both nature and aesthetics.

I didn't know what to expect on the first day of school. My dad had said it would be a great school before he'd shipped me off from Manhattan to Middle-of-Nowhere, Maryland and simply walking to the front steps, I could tell it was. The building itself seemed recent, with modern architecture and a very clean interior, and the students dressed well—a little too well. I was definitely aware of the dress code, but there was not a person in the world who could convince me to wear a button-up shirt and colored shorts to school of all things.

On the other hand, the guy next to me as I hurried down the stairs at the end of the day was dressed in salmon-pink shorts and a checkered shirt. I contemplated making a sarcastic comment about his style of dress but kept my mouth shut. Not like I need anyone to hate me on the first day here.

I decided to shoot pink shorts a smile and make my way over to a tall oak tree on the front lawn of the school. Folding my arms across my chest, I leaned my back against it as I watched everyone leave the school. My grandfather had insisted he pick me up even after I had said almost ten times I'd be just fine walking home. I could tell he was just trying to make my life easier, and it was difficult to be rude to him, so I smiled and said thanks before I left in the morning.

I sighed as I felt a headache coming on and rubbed the side of my forehead before dropping my hand. It was useless when I worried about them, so I tried to forget about the headache and focus on the two new people standing near the tree across from me.

Maybe new wasn't the right word since I had seen her before at least. She—Emerson—was in Mr. Clark's class with me and the only person he didn't seem to make a witty remark to when they said something. When we got up to leave at the end of homeroom, I averted my glance to her only because I had been staring at the back of her soft curls the whole class.

If it wasn't socially unacceptable, I'd have ran my hand through them before I'd left.

My thoughts were cut off by an object flying in the corner of my eye. Reflexively, I reached my foot out, stopped the ball on the grass, and kicked it back to the guy jogging towards me. It flew right into his two hands.

"Hey, nice kick, man!" he called, stopping a few feet away from me. It was pink shorts. "You play?"

"For fourteen years now," I answered, stuffing my hands into my pockets. "Center forward."