All of My Firsts

Chapter 2

I opened my front door to see Casey's beat up pickup truck, Baby Blue, Baby for short, waiting for us. Casey was immensely proud of Baby Blue because he had spent all of freshman year saving up for it. He used to joke that he would not be seen driving anything other than a blue car. But, when Casey went to the used car place, the only car that he could afford was an ugly, Dorito orange pickup truck with a huge scratch in the paint going from the passenger side door to the trunk. Even though it wasn't blue, Casey was desperate to have his own ride, so he bought it. When he drove it to school the next day, James saw it and said, "So, this is 'Baby Blue'?" The name stuck.

I started walking to Baby Blue and Casey ran in front of me to open the passenger seat door. "M'lady," he said with a bad British accent. I giggled and stepped into Baby. I tried my best to avoid stepping on any empty chip bags or soda bottles that had fallen onto the car floor, but had no success--those things were everywhere. Big hopped into the backseat and Casey began to drive. We were all silent for the next five minutes.

"So, how are you guys holding up?" I said, breaking the silence. They both looked at me, stunned. I guess they'd figured I wouldn't want to talk about it. I grunted when I didn't receive a response. "It's okay if you want to talk about it."

"I don't know about Big, but today has been fucking hard, and it's not even nine in the morning. We still have to manage the rest of the day," Casey said, not taking his eyes off the road, not even to look at me. He was wearing sunglasses, so I couldn't see him cry, but I heard his voice waver a bit and saw a tear stream down his cheek.

Big nodded. "Yeah, it's been tough for me too. I'm just worried about what school's gonna be like." I groan and glare out of the open window. I can already imagine the lame memorial in front of the flagpole or James's old locker with teddy bears and candy and all of that dumb stuff surrounding it, and a meaningless message on announcements saying how much James will be missed. Yay. Can't wait.

We pull into the school's parking lot and the Student Safety Group is already outside, talking to the parents dropping of their kids about how important car safety is and handing out bumper stickers that say, "Buckle up!" with a picture of some happy cartoon kids playing with toys in the car with, of course, their seatbelts on. I guess that Piper Hansen, the president of the student safety group, thought that using James's story would hit people's soft spots and they would be so much more likely to wear their seatbelts. It's pathetic, using my boyfriend as an example. He wasn't even the driver in the accident that killed him. It wasn't his fault.

Big and Casey walk me to my locker, probably just to make sure I don't have a major breakdown, what with seeing all of these pictures of James and walking past his locker shrine. Some people had the audacity to leave sticky notes with words of encouragement stuck to my locker, along with Casey's and Big's, saying stuff like "We're here for you" and telling us to "stay strong."

Don't get me wrong, I love how people want to remember James, but it gets to me how these people who didn't even know James well enough to even say hello in the hallways were suddenly telling these sob stories about how their interactions were so emotional and how they'd never forget him. The sad reality is that most of them will forget about James the second they leave Salt Lake High for college.

I grabbed my binder and notebook and headed to my first class, which was Theatre. Theatre is my favorite class, and having it first thing in the morning on a day like today was bound to bring up my mood, at least a little bit.

I walk into the auditorium, which is where Theatre is held, and set my stuff down on the chair next to me. Casey and Big picked me up and brought me to school early, so nobody else from my class had gotten here yet. I decided to utilize the rare opportunity that is having the stage to myself so I could practice the self-written, two-minute monologue that was due today. Mine's about a girl who's life is a reverse rags to riches, where she starts out with a great group of friends, a great boyfriend, and a loving family, and then, out of nowhere, they all don't like her anymore for no apparent reason. The whole thing is basically her assuming that her friends not liking her is her fault and reviewing everything she's ever done that could have made them angry.