Bleed The Dream

Chapter Two: Sandwich

"You know I can't be found with you"

The 1975

CHAPTER TWO:

Months before my meeting with Mr. Pete Garth, I was asked the question, "What's your plan?"  by Brent Lucas Thompson. He was the only person that deserved an answer. 

Brent- Sandwich, as we called him- was my eighth grade boyfriend. He was also my only boyfriend; ever. Our 'history' was holding hands in the middle school cafeteria and calling each other babe. But we drifted apart, as thirteen year olds do. Sigh. To give the situation justice, I'll give you a rundown of our history.... 

 Seventh grade: We met at the end of Seventh grade. The last month of school, my class had to do a "Fitness test". This basically meant that the twenty girls in my class had to run a mile in the hot sun. In order to run a full mile, you had to circle the track three times.

I was running it with my friend, Sunny. She fell behind a little to take a break. She told me to keep going as she slowed. I hit my stride, running as fast as my feet could take me, flying over the asphalt.

I came around the corner and heard someone clapping. It almost made me trip over my feet and tumble into the asphalt in surprise.

An English class was having their class outside. The teacher- Miss Miller- was a hippy with a sinus problem. I should explain- Miss Miller, had, and I quote, "extremely sensitive nostrils". She couldn't stand anything scented. Candles, air fresheners. Don't even mention cologne or perfume in her presence. One time, a boy brought a really strong air freshener and taped the top so that it would spray continuously and tossed it into her classroom. The result? Chaos.

And now you know why there was an English class sitting in the soccer field.

A boy stood at the edge of the track, having wandered away from the class, throwing his hands in the air as he shouted, "whooo! The girl in blue! You've got this!"

I couldn't tell if he was mocking me or not, so I just kept running.

He did it the second time I passed. I decided to wave. This made him yell louder.

The third time, I stopped and took a bow, grinning wildly. This got all of his buddies cheering with him.

Miss Miller was heading back to her class, a bag of chips grasped tightly in her hand, her sandals dangling from her wrist as she trotted through the grass. I took off running again.

Three days later, the last day of school, my friend Kelly was signing my yearbook as I wrote in hers. I felt a tap on my shoulder. "One sec," I said without looking up, signing my name at the bottom of the page.

I handed the yearbook back to her, taking mine when she passed it to me, turning to look behind me. He stood there with a goofy smile on his face, a dimple in his left cheek, holding out his yearbook. "Sign it?"

Surprised to see him standing there, I nodded, taking the book and laying it across my lap. I stared up at him, waiting for instructions of what to write. I didn't even know his name.

"To Sandwich," he instructed. I stopped my pen, looking up at him to raise an eyebrow. "It's a nickname," he shrugged, the smile widening, his green eyes twinkling as if he was enjoying himself.

I wrote the words, then waited expectantly, staring up at him. This made him run his fingers through his curly hair, his fingers fluttering at the base of his neck as if he had a nervous twitch. "Then your phone number and name."