Failed Theories

1

There is a theory called Solipsism, it is the theory that one can only know themselves and to them the outside world doesn't exist or matter.

A lot of people have no idea this theory exists yet most of them seem to be practicing it almost religiously.
These people only pay attention to what matters to them and wouldn't care one bit about other people.

I see this very appreciative quality in Ambra Castle, every day, in the school hallways lined by light blue lockers. Ambra isn't popular by any means, nor does she represent society's normal view of beauty. She simply lives in her own world.

I arrive at school at exactly 7:45 AM sharp, I do this, every day, for nine months a year. I grab my army backpack from the backseat of my truck and head inside Cromwell High, it's a crappy little school in a crappy little town whose whole existence thrives on Friday night football and a team that hardly wins.

Running my fingers through my black curls and rubbing my converse on the doormat to get rid of wet grass, I step inside.

I see my friends, Van and Kyle, sitting on the stairs leading up to the cafeteria. They see me and wave.

"Hey Perry! Excited?" Kyle asks, a bright grin crossing his face.

"Why would he be excited?" Said Van, as always the positive one.

"For what?" I asked, confused but smiling, like I often am, especially in Math class.

"Senior year man! Were the kings of the school now!" He says fist pumping the air before I bring his arm down.

"Dude, were members of the AV club, were literally the scum of the earth in the hierarchy that is high school." I said, shaking my head and making Van laugh.

"You mean the only members of the AV club." Van said laughing even harder.

"I need to get new friends." Kyle muttered before pulling out a cereal bar.

I was about to respond when I saw a sudden glimpse of golden brown hair. I turned around just in time as I watch her walk past me, a book in one hand, an apple in the other. The purple streaks in her hair having faded to a light pink over the summer, beads strung on random strands.

The bell rings and I jerk my head away, only to see the heathens I call my friends looking at me, smirks plastered all over their faces.

"Shut up." I said shoving them both from their shoulders, pushing past them. Their laughs echoing behind me as they follow.

Presentism argues that the past and the future isn't real but only the present exist. If that is true, then right now, in this present time of teenage angst and sexual frustration, I am undoubtedly in love with Ambra Castle.

It isn't the typical type of love where I imagine kissing her all the time (although it takes up a considerable amount), it's the type of love where I just want to see her smile, or how I think it's really cute that she chews on a pencil when she's trying to concentrate. It's the way she wears overalls and white converse almost daily while the other girls are wearing dresses and heels.

Ambra Castle is radiant and beautiful in more ways than one and this is the story of how she ruins me and leaves me sitting in the dust.