Concrete Delusion

A Change of Mind

Chapter 6 Elliot

I woke up irritable and grumpy. I wasn't sure if it was due to the lack of sleep I got by staying up and talking to Sage, or the separation I was forced to have from my dream of her. I would have to change the tune on my alarm soon; the one I currently woke up to was beginning to unnerve me.

It seemed that now matter how hard I tried, I couldn't focus on the important things such as basketball or civics. I knew these things were vital in my scholarship to my dad's favorite university, but in all honesty, I was beginning not to care.

Sage was such an inspiration. We had so much in common and all of it was just so good that I hoped it was true. She read me a few poems she had written and shared with me her dreams of going to a college for it. Her words were beautiful, but I just kept getting lost in the other beautiful things about her. Her dark brown eyes and dark blonde hair that spilled away from her freckled face distracted me slightly as she spoke. I tried to stop it but it was hard.

She was unlike anything I'd ever seen before, and up until seeing her over webcam, she hadn't felt real. I knew she was now, though. Her sweet voice grew heavy with sarcasm when she spoke of things that obviously bothered her, like her sister. I think it was her way of creating a light mood in spite of the harsh unwelcomed anger she puts away.

I admired her. I myself, having the motivation of the entire basketball team and both my parents, was never able to contain my anger. I would just let it grow and grow, throwing oxygen onto it like a fire and it just grew hotter and hotter until it lashed out and touched whatever was near it. Many times, I had given in and said nasty things to the people who had done nothing wrong. Sage wasn't like that. She didn't seem devious like the cheerleader girls I'd grown fond of. I pulled myself out of my bed and brushed my teeth. I pulled on a new shirt and some anti-persperant and laced up my tennis shoes. It was time for practice.

However, I did not care about practice. I did not want to take a basketball scholarship and attend college as the pride of my family. I did not want to enstow them with the joy they sought. I wanted to be selfish, just this once, and take classes about the history of literature. I wanted to explore the works of Poe. I wanted to read all of Shakespeare's sonnets. I wanted to be that witty fool who followed his dreams, not the foolish wit who took the easy way out. I wanted to be with her. I wanted to wrap my arms around the girl I didn't know and I wanted to whisper things in her ear that I wasn't sure I'd feel, but I wanted to feel them.

I knew that it should not matter what I wanted. I went through practice lacking enthusiasm and all of the guys shot me looks and asked what was up with me and made jabs at my petty attempts. "I just need some coffee." I told them, pushing them only to make more jabs at me. One little off day is all it takes for a praised star player to become a joke, appearently. Sage had given me her number last night.

Stubbornly, I downloaded a textfree app onto my iPhone as my friends jeered at me and I sipped my coffee. I could not have Sage knowing my real number. What if my friends found out about her and tried to sabatoge her talking to me? What if they picked up my phone from the locker room and sent her terrible messages that might change her opinion of me and make her not want to talk to me anymore? I couldn't let that happen.

I eagerly typed her number into my textfree.  I sent her a poem I had found.

Sage by Mary Krkljus

The smell of sage,

So overwhelmingly potent.

It exhilirates my senses

The love and energy

The mountains

So openly offer.

All I can do

Is lie down in the sun

With a smile on my face,

A song in my heart,

And thoughts of making love

To the earth.

I caught myself checking my phone every few minutes to see if she messaged back. Finally, I felt a buzz in my pocket. Pulling it out and seeing her number on my screen, I read her reply. "What a piece of work is a man." She had quoted Shakespeare. I sighed in contentment, and my friends all looked at me with widened eyes and raised eyebrows. I tried to wipe the smile away that was written on my face, but instead, found myself laughing.

"What has gotten into you?" Sam asked. I didn't answer him. I didn't have to.