Slipping Through My Fingers

Little Things

The day is finally almost over, and I close my eyes just for a moment as I take a seat in a 'decorated over the years' chair in art class. I look over at the empty dusty green chair beside me. Where could Trevor be? He said he'd be here, not home sick of school. I make a mental note to call him later. As the bell rings for class to begin I get out of my seat to grab my stamp off the rack. I see mine, and notice Trevor's stamp beside it. The one he doesn't want me to see yet. Curiosity gets the better of me and I glance over it. By what I can tell it's a tree, designed by carving different details in and out in diverse designs. I can tell there's more to it, but that's all my eyes are able to discover for now. Trevor's work is always so intricate and detailed with the smallest of designs that often hold hidden meanings.

The chatter grows louder as people finish their stamps and talk about the 8th grade dance and summer. The dance is less than a month away. Apparently it's a big deal since it's our last dance as 8th graders before becoming high school freshman. I catch girls fantasizing about their dream 'proposals' for such a dance in the corner near my table. Apparently someone over there had been asked to the 8th grade dance already, dang, talk about saving a date. Oh, but summer, sweet summer, how great that sounds right now. I can almost picture the lovely warmth and no school worries, it's great. Too bad it's still 2 months away. I remember something that makes me smile. Tomorrow I'm going to the Band Festival with Brier. I can only imagine what my mom is going to say to that, and my dad? Oh boy, breaking the news to them will be fun.

I add a few more details to my stamp, admiring how much work I actually got done since Trevor wasn't distracting me the whole time. I carefully place my stamp back beside Trevor's on the rack, once again looking over his work. I'm a little jealous, but I really do love his art. Anything he makes is always portrayed very beautifully. As I gather up my supplies and put them back up at the front of the classroom, a familiar girl smiles at me. I remember her from one of my old classes, but I can't remember her name. I believe it started with F or something like that. "You're stamp is pretty cool." I smile back at her, noticing the star and the moon she carved into her slab. "Thanks, Codi. Yours is looking nice too." I nod and turn away back to my seat. I'm not entirely the conversationalist type. I'm more of a say-only-what-you-need-to-say type. Maybe that's why I hardly have friends, and I realize that with Trevor gone, it's pretty lonely. Gosh I'm so lame. I put up my chair like everyone else and shrug my backpack over my shoulders. Nothing to really do except stare at the clock as the announcements buzz on, 2:58...2:59...3:00pm. The bell ends the day and I walk towards the door. I realize I have track after this. I grumble as my footsteps lead me to the locker room. It happens to already be open, and I eat my violet grapes on the way in.

I dress in a plain gray sports tee, and shorts showing a collage of blues as I pull my hair into a ponytail and secure my braided bangs with a bobby pin. Other girls come in gossiping about their latest girl drama and boyfriends, so I shove my things in my P.E. locker, lock it, and leave. I jog over to the sign in sheet on the other side of the gym and quickly jot down my name under today's date, April 26th, Codi Lynaya Smith. I sit up on the edge of the stage beside the paper, wondering what I could possibly do for 10 or more minutes. Sighing I lay back, so half of my body lay behind the red curtain of the stage, and the other half is lying outside of it. I look around in the darkened corners, seeing bits of cardboard, ropes and dangling wires with small little microphones. I've always dreamed of being an actor on TV, but I've never gotten the chance, nor am I ever brave enough to even tryout for any school auditions. I have this lame fear of being rejected by others, whether it's' acting or singing, or even speaking. I'm shy, but not majorly. I'm definitely not afraid to take a stand. I guess I'm better at being in the moment. Which reminds me about Justin, did I slap him so hard he decided to admit his faults? I don't even know what happened there. I shouldn't have slapped him though, but he was totally asking for it! Enough is enough. Someone needs to show him how to straighten up. I hope Mr. Owen wasn't serious about the whole counselor thing. I can only imagine how badly that would go down. Basically it'd be me and Justin arguing over each other. What a mess my head's in right now. And I confess, I'm actually grateful for track allowing me to run off some steam.