To Be Decided

1

It was autumn, we were both fifteen years old and freshly placed into our sophomore year. I was ready to get out of high school, to leave it's daft drama behind. I always told myself and my mother "I mean... I enjoy high school, I love learning new things and putting my effort into schoolwork to show my teachers and all the other miscreants just exactly what I'm capable of. I enjoy every aspect of what high school is meant to be, I just really really do not enjoy the part that comes included."

She gives me the familiar side eye that whispers "Yes I'm listening, I also have to keep my eyes on the road so keep talking."

"The kids drive me insane, the way they whine and always try to change things to only their benefit. If you're going to insist the teacher changes an entire project so you can have it your way, oh honey you have another thing com-"

She cuts me off with her classic snickering and amusement plastered to her face. The same speech I always recite to her, the same reaction each and every time. Obviously it's not word for word every time but you get the gist of it. We pull up to a typical Texas, high school football stadium, steel bleachers that rocket upwards with crappy ass gates, two concession stands who's "employees" are volunteering couples that have a kid attending our school. Then the rest is to your imagination, it's quite simple to illustrate in your head. She stops the car to drop me off at the football game, which I have been dreading to go to since I woke up and realized it was Friday.

"Have a good time kid, don't be stupid!" says my never humorless mother "You kidding me? I was planning to have the best time of my life! Shoot I guess tonight is not the night I get stoned off my ass huh?" She gives me this "What the hell kid" grin that I cant help but laugh at as she joins in on the enjoyment of our sarcastic sense of humor. I shut the door and wave her off. As I see her drive off I'm left alone, I feel the anxiety surge through every nerve in my body. My chest gets heavy and constricted, I feel as if my stomach is going to implode. I shakily turn towards the stadium gates and the breath of the schools students, band, volunteers and athletes eerily makes it's way into my ears sending a chill throughout my body. Music, bass of the drums, screaming and shouting its all too much.

Why does my mother insist I go to these stupid games? They just throw me off, a feeling as if every emotion occurring on my side of the stadium is attaching itself to my body and draining the courage I have, its all too much, it's too scary.My feet walk towards the gates entrance, my head watches my feet begging them to stop, but they don't, they just keep going. Suddenly my feet stop walking and begin soaring upwards and sling to the side, and so does the rest of my body as I flop onto the asphalt. I take my eyes off my feet and I see it, I see him. The force that gave me what I was begging for, to make me stop walking into the miserable excuse of a football game.

"Goodness babe I'm so sorry, you alright?" Australian, it's him the exchange student from Sydney. Whats his name? Something unusual? Something you wouldn't hear often. He's decently tall for someone our age, his hair a dark brown color with a wavy texture. He has a baby face that doesn't match his body, a lean piece of flesh sculpted from hours of playing soccer. I look up at him, his eyes a beautiful brown that has a reddish tint, like copper. " I- I'm fine I think I just scraped up..... my arms or something. I'll be okay, really you can continue your rambunctious outing, no one cares enough to stop you. Quite frankly I don't think you would even listen if someone cared, this proved that enough, obviously nothing not even a physical body would stop you from running until you fall. Did you not see me? What the hell were you thinking running around like that? He scoffs in disbelief, I do the same except I only hear it in my head.

"The names Calum Hood, I would like to get that gruesome scrape on your arm cleaned up if you'd like?"

Once again disbelief roams inside my head, I hear him talking but he sounds muffled like the sound effects they add in movies for a dramatic and realistic affect. "Whats your name love?" he says as he stares at me with a concerning look, as you should be when you body slam into a complete stranger.

"Imogen, Imogen Laine."