Chromatic

8

I fall asleep before my parents come home, and I get lost in the world of dreams.

i am alone in a black room. there is no light, but i can perfectly see my own body. i blink a few times to gain awareness. senseless distorted sounds echo around me, and as they grow louder, i can almost hear what they are saying. but as soon as i can barely make them out, they diminish into nothingness. this goes on for hours, and i sit down. i can't feel the floor, but somehow i know that it's cold. echoes ring in my ears.

I'm awake. I turn off the alarm on my phone before it goes off. I almost fall asleep while brushing my teeth, and I don't even bother trying to style my hair. I leave it as the tousled mess it is. In the "second day of school" tradition, I put on my favorite shirt. It's a soft cotton tee, striped and simple. I feel happy when I put it on, so I go down to make some breakfast. And by that, I mean putting frozen waffles in the toaster. As soon as they pop out, I grab my bag and hop into my car.

Someone is calling me: Jackson. He's a great friend of mine who I just met last year. He's super silly but also understands when I need to be serious. Also, he's one of the few guys I've gotten close to that I have never been romantically attracted to. Which is fine by me.

I pick up.

"hey!" I try to mask my drowsiness with perkiness.

"what's up? can you meet me at Starbucks right now?"

"sure. i'm on my way." What does he want this early in the morning? I planned to visit Ms. West before school to chill, but I guess that's cancelled.

I pull up into a parking spot under a tree in the Starbucks lot, and from my car I can already see Jackson and Victoria sitting at a small table in the shop.

When they see me walk through the door, they both greet me with happy smiles.

"What's up?" I ask.

"Nothing really, I just wanted to hang out," says Victoria. Something about this seems suspicious, but I clear my mind of that.

"Oh, alright," I say, pulling up a chair to the table and unwrapping the napkins in which I wrapped the waffles I made. We sit in silence for a while, enjoying the quiet bustle of the store early in the morning. Jackson breaks the silence.

"This is going to be a good year." His voice cracks in the middle of the sentence, as if he's unsure of his own words.

Victoria and I agree in unison, trying to lift his spirits. We finish up our meals and begin to head out. 

"Group hug?" he keenly asks. I glance at both of them, and then shuffle over to agree. The three of us embrace each other, each quietly hoping that what he says will come true.

As I close my car door, a tear streams down my cheek.

Please let this be a good year.