A Bad Year In Romantics

Chapter 2

I picked my clothes for school the following morning from the pile of laundry I deemed to clean to put in the laundry but to dirty to fold and put inside my drawer.The bus station was 3 blocks away from where I lived.During the spring I liked to pedal my bike to school.But we were still in Winter which meant if I took my bike I was sure to catch a cold even if I was well covered up.

The bench at the bus stop was occupied so I had no other choice but to stand.My thermos sat on the floor between my feet while I chewed on a bagel I had prepared before I had left the house.The bus came at 7:05.I boarded and took a seat in the middle section of the bus.When I was all settled in I took my phone out to see any messages I had.

Mom:Morning Champ.Haven't heard from you in a few days.Give me a call when you get the chance.Nothing urgent,I would just like to know how my little boy is doing.Love you x.

Parker:Hey dude.Don't forget to eat breakfast.I don't want to get another call saying how you owe a lasagna after you passed out and fell face first into one.

Luz (my sister):Hey booger face.Text me.."

I texted each of them back respectively.

"Hey mom.I'm still alive.I suppose one can still survive on energy shots and grilled cheese sandwiches.Doing great! I'll call you later on tonight when I'm home.I love you too."

Then:

"I know man I'm sorry. We'll stop by the store on our way home so I can pick up ingredients to make one."

And lastly:

"Hey i'git. Returning your text.I won't text you back until later though.Stay ugly."

The bus stopped right in front of the college gates. I didn't really have friends,it was mostly because everyone attending culinary school was either too young or too old to be my friend.The ages ranged from 18 to maybe 35 or possibly older.So I was mostly a loner,and I was alright with that.

I've always liked food. Unlike most people who don't choose to pursue a career in culinary arts because of the hectic work atmosphere,i like it. Growing up in the semi rich part of Chicago,my parents would take my sister and me out to restaurants where the chefs would prepare the food in front of you.The passion these chefs put into what they made inspired me.I also lowkey loved having my clothes smell like spices.

Along the way though I had a couple of other ideas on my career. I thought about being a vet but I wouldn't like putting sick dogs down or performing operations,and that ruled out being a doctor or anything else in the medical field. I considered becoming a lawyer but it's so much school time and the chances of actually practicing what you that career is slim to none. I even considered going to music school.I can play a total of 4 instruments. Piano,ukulele,saxophone and harmonica. I acquired these skills spending 3 summers with my uncle,who's a professional musician,in Tampa Florida.But no.My life was destined to be in the food industry.

We started off class that day taking notes whilst the Professor wrote on the white board.It was always like this.Taking notes was the first part of the class and when we would came back from our lunch break we would make something. This lesson's food portion was orange chicken,noodles,white rice balls covered in teriyaki and egg rolls.

During my lunch hour I sat under a tree. It wasn't hot or anything like that but If I sat on the benches the sun would get in my eyes and I didn't bring my shades to protect them.

I never really had lunch to be on the benches either.Instead I would buy myself a Diet Coke and a bag of chips from the vending machines.I had just pulled open my bag when something hit the back of my neck. I flinched and looked behind me. It was a small rock. I huffed