Call Me Klein

I open my eyes. My chest tight from the crying fit I just had. I crinkle my nose, my face stiff from the dried tear trails. My lips bleed through the cracks of dead skin. The cold December wind whips across my face leaving my eyes to sting as they freeze. My gaze wanders around. To those whom I call classmates. Some boys playing catch with a football, some girls grabbing onto them. Then I see him. The most amazing thing I've ever seen. Jason Klein. Quarterback for boys football. I scratch at the dried tracks on my cheeks. He turns around, smiling at his girlfriend Marrisa Larkett. Oh, what I would give to be her. To have someone like him as my boyfriend. I'd give anything... But I have nothing, so giving everything in exchange for Jason Klein is not an option. I take in a deep breath, fishing through my backpack for my inhaler. My eyes still locked on him. His flowing brown hair stopping just above his eyelashes, causing him to twitch his head to the side every so often to clear his vision. I freeze. Why can't I have him? Why can't he be mine? I mean, I'm just as good as the other girls... Right? I switch my eyes to Marrisa. She sits there with her friends inspecting her amazing boyfriend just like I'm doing, except... I don't have any friends. Just me and my doodles, as Trey likes to call them. I go back to search desperately for my inhaler in my $20 Claire's bag. The bell rings and I stand up. I'll just suffer another asthma attack. I flip my sketch book shut and swing my bag over my shoulder. 8 years, I think as I walk to the gate. 8 years I've been in the same class with Jason Klein. I had 8 years to say something. 8 years. I laugh at myself. "What's so funny?" The sweet, smooth voice of my dreams asks next to me. I look over to see Jason Klein, smiling at me. Marrisa scowling towards us way behind where Jason's football buddies are walking slowly in front of them. She pushes her way past them only to be stopped by her friends. I look back at Jason. His brown eyes almost drawing the answer from inside of me. "Nothing." I say almost immediately wanting to slap myself. Jason laughs. Clearly knowing I'm lying. "Sure, OK."

I rush through the halls to the nurse. As soon I get there I plop onto the plastic covered bed. My heart racing and my veins pumping blood harder than necessary. I look at the wall of pictures by second graders from 6 years ago. I finally spot the lame one that I drew when I wrote that the nurse was my best friend since I was in her office so much. It's sad for a second grader to only have a 50 year old as their only friend, but it's even sadder when they turn out to be the only person left on Earth who actually cares about them. I sit up and slide over to the inhaler drawer. I look at the names on the boxes as I grab mine in its usual spot. Same offenders. Me and about 4 other kindergartners with asthma they'll most likely grow out of in a few years. I open the box and dump the half empty pump into my hand. "Hey." I hear as I bring it to my mouth. I turn my attention to the magnificent sight standing in the doorway. I lower it, not caring if my lungs explode from all the heavy breathing. "What's wrong with you?" I force a smile and try to sound cool. He lifts up his pale pinky, long and slender. "Paper cut. Pretty gruesome stuff." He smiles. I laugh at his natural, undiluted humor. He walks past me to the bandage jar. "Hmm... gauze or sterile tape?" He taps his pointer finger on the lid. I smile to myself, my hair acting as a curtain to cover my constant blush. He looks over his shoulder at me but I keep my eyes down. "Yeah... you're probably right. I'll go with the adhesive bandage, if it falls over it'll show how serious it really is." I roll my eyes playfully. God I want him. Marrisa Larkett let me be you.