In Your Skies

Chapter 3 (Part 1)

They slither wildly as they slip away across the universe…

I felt my right cheek warming by the second; I felt the light seeping through my tightly-shut eyelids. I noticed the shadows playing about. I opened my eyes slowly, strained because the sun was already on a high, I rolled onto my side and like an Energizer Bunny, I got up and ran to the shower.

Fuck, it was already 8 in the morning.

I zoomed through my closet and picked up a random orange shirt and a black knitted cardigan threw them over the black pants and canvas shoes I had on yesterday and nabbed my Aztec printed tan leather rucksack then continued running like a madman.

“Not having breakfast?” my mom asks.

“Nope, I don’t think so,” I kiss her and I continued to sprint out the door.

I don’t have a bike and the car’s not in the driveway, I guess my dad took off earlier than I did. As if I was being chased by a pack of oddly fast, maybe ex-Olympiad runner zombies, I dashed to New Oliver High School, almost losing my footing due to the badly asphalted pavements. I pass by a group of young runners garbed in gray tank tops and black nylon shorts and remember the movie Juno and how she imagines pork-swords everytime she sees them, now I get why.

Finally, I reach this shithole I have to surrender myself to for 7 hours daily. I spot Anya standing by the gates, wearing a slick leather jacket and neon pink The Sex Pistols printed top, smoking like a real badass not caring if she gets apprehended for the Nth time this school year.

Panting and catching my breath and almost needing a ventilator, I grabbed onto her shoulders, anchoring her down.

She looks down at me with an eyebrow raised and asks me “One question: Is it Halloween already? If so, let me take a guess on what you’re supposed to be today, a raped jack-o lantern, perhaps?”

She snorts out in laughter, throwing the butt on the ground and stepping on it with her black suede platforms.

She was referring to the poorly chosen color combination of my outfit today. I look at her and her eyeliner was done thicker than usual.

“Yeah, and your Hooker-slash-Wednesday Adams-eating-Uncle-Fester look is beyond amazing, Anya.”

“So what took you so long? Come on, let’s go, Alvin went ahead already.”

We walked inside the campus, Anya who was walking ahead of me unzipped her belted black leather bag, pulled out a light green bottle of perfume with her black and white marble painted nails and sprayed the living soul out of it all over her body. The fruity scent was whiffed onto me as we walked, both of us smelled like green tea and pear although hers was gym-sock like because of the counteracting putrid smell of cigarettes.

Kids who skipped first period on a Monday was lying on the lush green lawn in the courtyard with their sunglasses on, chitchatting and surveying every guy who passed by. Others were clearly not ready for school, seeing them lie on their stomach with mouths half-opened and minds miles away from their bodies.

“My alarm didn’t go off, what a useless piece of metal and LED crap!” I complained, trying to get her sympathy.

“Hey, hey, hey, don’t go flaming on the poor clock, it’s not his fault you were fantasizing about that guy you met at the bus last night”

“Ha ha, funny. Let’s assign ‘The Looker’ as his code name so we won’t have to repeat a phrase to get his name right.”

The corridors, like the majority of schools, was filled with the usual lockers painted in the school’s colors, ours happened to be a deep, mossy green. Decorated with banners for the upcoming game against the Canyon Creek Rhinos, I thought ‘Go New Oliver Iguanas!’ Fucking lame, and disturbing. Nothing sexy and fierce about Iguanas. Nothing.