After School

[Nick Smith] September - Tuesday - 3:15 p.m.

[Nick Smith]

September – Tuesday – 3:15 p.m.

The thumping of his leg jingled the keys in his pocket. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be in a classroom after school. It was stupid.

He should be at practice. On the field, running drills, getting shout at, getting tackled—… well maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to be in a comfy room where he’s not on the verge of death.  Besides, it was a pretty hot September afternoon.

Coach Lacoste excused Nick from today’s practice because of an important club meeting regarding Club Rush Day. This is where all the clubs get together and annoyingly try to get new members by displaying themselves. Club members would dress up in weird costumes or show all the “accomplishments” they did. Nick new better not to join one when he was freshman. In fact, he knew not to join period. Most of the clubs treated new members like crap no matter what grade they were in. Grunt work is what they did; for a whole year. Putting up signs, building whatever needed to be built, wearing ridiculous outfits throughout the year to promote school spirit and what not. He found himself lucky that he wouldn’t have to do any that since he was probably first and only member.

Nick sat at a desk familiar to him in the center of Mr. Tanimoto’s classroom. He never understood the arrangement of the class. It looked like a rainbow, cept it with two colors, both being that tanish-brown desk color. His desk was in the middle of the inside color.

Mr. Tanimoto had a long talk about symbols in stories earlier in first period. Just about everything meant something. Nick didn’t pay much attention to it. He was too busy trying to figure out the Tupperware thing still. The only thing that caught his ear was from the discussion was Mr. Tanimoto saying, “Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.”

Whatever the hell that meant.

He looked over at Mr. Tanimoto ducking under his desk. Mr. Tanimoto didn’t look like a cigar guy. Maybe the rainbow desk thing meant something he slightly thought to himself.

“Mr. T, who are we waiting for?” His voice echoed a little in the empty room.

Mr. T popped his head out from under his desk, “The president of our club. Oh, and can you hand me that container behind you. Looks like a missed one”

Nick got up from his seat and picked up the round container on the floor behind him. He now knew that he wasn’t the only member, or the first for that matter. The thought of grunt work worried him. Placing it on Mr. T’s desk he asked, “Why can’t I be pres?”

“You don’t look like you can handle the responsibility.” Mr. T responded while carefully putting the container in the box.

“You shouldn’t judge a book by its cover Mr. T.”

“Is that your lesson for the year Mr. Smith?” Mr. T’s face, half covered by the desk, raised a brow.

“I’m just saying Mr. T.” Nick replied in a denoting tone.

Mr. T sat up on his desk and looked up at Nick. “You are right, I apolo—oh, hello, you’re here.” A smile shot on his face as he looked at who just walked in.

Nick slowly turned to see a girl standing next him; her eyes piercing at him through her glasses. She’s cute. She could lose the glasses, but she’s still cute.

“Nick this is my niece.” Nick held out a hand and put on his best smile. She just looked at his hand, and then to her uncle.

“He’s that Nick?”

“Yup,” Mr. T. said nodding.

Nick softly takes her hand and lowers his head slightly so his eye can meet hers.  “Hey, I’m Nick. Nice to meet you,” he said warmly.

Her eyes started to round out and soften. Her lips lightened into a smile that made Nick’s smile bigger.

Suddenly a sharp pain shot up between his legs. Nicks vision started to narrow as the girl’s eyes began to pierce at him again. He slowly found himself falling to his knees. She then dislodged her foot from between Nick’s thighs as his grip slipped from her hand on to his crouch.

“Hi. I’m Benny.”