spoken word. (gxg)

thirteen.

thirteen.

When the school bell finally rang, I practically sprinted downstairs. Mrs. Lee's classroom was dim, as usual, lit by the various lamps littered about. June was on the couch, a desk pulled around to the side, chip bags and a 6-pack of something on it. When she saw me, she motioned for me to come closer. I waved at Mrs. Lee as I passed by her and she smiled at me.

"Did you get my email?" She asked.

"Uh, not yet," I told her, "but I can check right now."

"It's just about the stuff we talked about last week," she let me know, "go, have fun." I offered a small smile, hurrying to where June was.

"Chips?" I quirked an eyebrow.

"And juice," she nodded solemnly. Upon closer inspection, the 6-pack seemed to be small cans of apple juice. I grinned.

"Nice."

She reached to hand me her novel, but I hesitated.

"Isn't it easier to listen to it as an audiobook? Like the other day at your house when we listened to Matilda." Surely that was more appealing than listening to my bad voice acting, tripping over words every four seconds.

"I like listening to your voice better. Besides, we're almost done." I flushed, hurridly opening to where we left off. But she was right-- we were almost done. It was almost sad. What would happen once the book was over? It seemed naive to assume I would just pick up another one and we would continue on like that forever. I decided not to think about it.

My voice and the occasional crunching of chips filled the air as time and pages passed. Ever so often I would pause, reaching over to grab another handful of crunchy goodness. June was between me and the chip bag, so she would lean back to allow me access, and I would lean over her, trying not to spill chips on her lap. Not that it mattered-- the one time I did she picked it up and ate it. For some reason, that action made me blush.

As time passed, my pace naturally slowed. She usually left at around 6 pm, and I didn't want to start a new chapter when she would have to leave. Even if she didn't care, I hated quitting in the middle of a chapter.

"It's almost six," I murmured after speaking the last word of the chapter. She opened her eyes, eyebrows furrowed as she checked the time on her phone. The way she groaned and let her head fall back against the couch was cute.

"Shit," she cursed. I laughed.

"Go on, you don't want your family to get angry." Unexpectedly, she bored her eyes into mine.

"Come with me," she stated.

"Uh," I stuttered, flustered. I had no reason to say no. And, really, did I want to say no? It was a good opportunity to answer all the questions floating around in my head-- and really, to spend time with June.

"Sure," I agreed, smiling. She searched my face, eyes unreadable, before nodding.

I crumpled up the chip bag, tossing it into the trash can and frowning when I missed. I reached to grab one of the empty juice cans, trying again. It bounced off the side. Pouting, I turned ot June, who was looking at me in a musement.

"You try," I offered,snatching up a juice can and holding it out to her. She shook her head. I scowled, crossing my arms. "Come on-- you're athletic, I know you'll get it in." Still, she made no move. Maybe she actually was bad at throwing. It seemed unrealistic, but I couldn't explain why else she was so against trying.

Being good at fighting doesn't automatically mean you're good at sports, I reasoned. Besides, it made sense if she was bad at sports. It would be unfair if she was smart, pretty, strong, and sporty.

I took a step forward.

"Just try," I grinned, "it's fun even if you don't make it in." Until you have to walk all the way over and clean up all of your failed attempts, I thought, but didn't say that part out loud. June stared at me again, which was unsettling because her expression was always blank, and finally let me give her the can. She threw it, still looking at me. I pivoted.

"Aw, at least take it seriousl-" The can landed in the trashcan. I trailed off.

"Let's go," was all she said. I scowled at her.

"That's not fair," I complained, jogging to catch up with her. "You can't just... do that."

"Hmm," she placated. My mouth gaped open. Was she not even going to rub her victory in my face?! Humbleness was worse than salt in the wound because now I couldn't even call her a jerk.

Honestly, it was frustrating how talented she was. Everyone noticed it, which was why she was constantly surrounded by others.

"Why..." I tried to structure my question in a way that made sense, "Why do you always hang out with me after class instead of your other friends?"

"Because my friends go to college in different states," she told me.

"No, I mean, your other friends. The ones that go here." She squinted at me a little bit.

"What?"

"All the people that hang around you," I explained, referring to the crowds that always decorated wherever she happened to be.

"They aren't my friends," she stated.

"They aren't?" I was surprised. I thought back to how her mother said all of her friends went off to college. Did she really not have any other friends? That was... sad.

"They're annoying," she stated, deadpan. I gaped.

"Annoying? So, they aren't your friends? Why do they hang around you, then?" She shrugged.

If there was one thing I knew about June Willow, it was that she answered questions shortly and that was it-- no extended narrative. That, coupled with the fact that she hated starting conversations, meant that almost every conversation with her was bound to collapse into an awkward silence. Like this one.

Except, I was getting more used to it, and silences that were once unbearable became comfortable. I was okay just being in her presence.

Unfortunately, it also meant that getting answers out of her was like extracting teeth from a bull.

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A/N:

Mia: JunE aNd I AreN'T fRiEndS

June:

June's mom:

Me:

You:

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