was just an animal.”
“I was attacked that night I checked out the house,” I said as I recalled the haunting memory. Maybe it didn’t really happen, and now I felt hot like he was going to catch me in a lie.
“Attacked?” he said. The smile slid from his face.
I nodded. “By an animal,” I said.
He pulled his cap down further as a burst of wind carried the rain in and we were splashed with cold water. “You live in the woods that could be any animal. It doesn’t mean my house is haunted.”
Shrugging my shoulders, I took my hands out of my warm pockets and took another quick bite of my sandwich. He watched me and once he figured out what I was doing he bit down on the tip of his right glove and pulled it off then he did the other hand and he tossed the pair of gloves at me. They landed near me. I looked up at him he nodded for me to put them on. I was too cold to object so I slipped my icy hands into the gloves which were nearly two times too big for me.
He got up, finished with his lunch, and headed toward the doors.
“Hey,” I said.
He paused with his hand on the door and turned his head to look at me.
“How’d you know I was lying?” I asked.
“Because that picture is of my mom,” he said then opened the door and disappeared into the noisy cafeteria.
Despite the warm gloves now protecting my hands, I was left feeling even colder than I was moments before.
I spent the rest of the day in a sort of daze. I wanted to find him and give him the picture now knowing that it belonged to him, but the revelation also raised a lot of curiosity like why was a picture of his mother in the abandoned house to begin with? My new neighbor was suddenly very interesting and I planned to find out more about him. But it wasn’t just the golden haired, Southern, boy who churned through my thoughts more than before, but also the picture which I held, folded in my hand the rest of the day, While in class I’d unfold the black and white photo and study the woman with a warm smile, that looked more familiar, and freckled arms, and long fingers that caressed her protruding stomach, and I wondered if in the photo the woman, Reign’s mother, was pregnant with him.
Suddenly the photo changed in significance. Not only did it hold more meaning than before, but it also no longer belonged to me and I realized it never had. I don’t know why I liked it so much when I saw it alone in the broken frame on the cracked wall in the dirty basement, but I guess I felt it was too beautiful to leave alone for another odd amount of years in a sinking house. Once he returned to the house, did go straight to the basement to seek the forgotten photo? Did he even know it was in the house?
Reign. Reign. Reign. Golden hair, a sweet molasses voice, and a bright smile that offset his dark eyes. That’s all I thought about the rest of the day.
Then seventh period my thoughts turned into actuality when I was graced with presence, well actually I was graced with the presence of the entire English class taught by Ms. Stewart, who had to go home because her basement was flooding. They couldn’t find an emergency sub so our principle merged the English classes for the last class period of the day.
I sat by the window in the back row and with my head supported by my hand as I studied the water pour down from the grey sky because this was more interesting than listening to Mr. Arnold lecture about Jane Eyre .
When I heard Kristen’s high pitch laughter, I turned abruptly from the window and my thoughts, and saw twenty-three students file into the room with Kristen in the lead. Her hair was straightened and highlighted blonde. That was new. Her eyebrows were darker, her cheekbones highlighted, her eyelashes longer, her lips plumper. She scratched her upper arm with painted pink fingernails and whispered something in Sydney’s ear who stood close by to her. Their arms almost linked. They both wore their blue and white cheerleading uniforms.
“I was attacked that night I checked out the house,” I said as I recalled the haunting memory. Maybe it didn’t really happen, and now I felt hot like he was going to catch me in a lie.
“Attacked?” he said. The smile slid from his face.
I nodded. “By an animal,” I said.
He pulled his cap down further as a burst of wind carried the rain in and we were splashed with cold water. “You live in the woods that could be any animal. It doesn’t mean my house is haunted.”
Shrugging my shoulders, I took my hands out of my warm pockets and took another quick bite of my sandwich. He watched me and once he figured out what I was doing he bit down on the tip of his right glove and pulled it off then he did the other hand and he tossed the pair of gloves at me. They landed near me. I looked up at him he nodded for me to put them on. I was too cold to object so I slipped my icy hands into the gloves which were nearly two times too big for me.
He got up, finished with his lunch, and headed toward the doors.
“Hey,” I said.
He paused with his hand on the door and turned his head to look at me.
“How’d you know I was lying?” I asked.
“Because that picture is of my mom,” he said then opened the door and disappeared into the noisy cafeteria.
Despite the warm gloves now protecting my hands, I was left feeling even colder than I was moments before.
I spent the rest of the day in a sort of daze. I wanted to find him and give him the picture now knowing that it belonged to him, but the revelation also raised a lot of curiosity like why was a picture of his mother in the abandoned house to begin with? My new neighbor was suddenly very interesting and I planned to find out more about him. But it wasn’t just the golden haired, Southern, boy who churned through my thoughts more than before, but also the picture which I held, folded in my hand the rest of the day, While in class I’d unfold the black and white photo and study the woman with a warm smile, that looked more familiar, and freckled arms, and long fingers that caressed her protruding stomach, and I wondered if in the photo the woman, Reign’s mother, was pregnant with him.
Suddenly the photo changed in significance. Not only did it hold more meaning than before, but it also no longer belonged to me and I realized it never had. I don’t know why I liked it so much when I saw it alone in the broken frame on the cracked wall in the dirty basement, but I guess I felt it was too beautiful to leave alone for another odd amount of years in a sinking house. Once he returned to the house, did go straight to the basement to seek the forgotten photo? Did he even know it was in the house?
Reign. Reign. Reign. Golden hair, a sweet molasses voice, and a bright smile that offset his dark eyes. That’s all I thought about the rest of the day.
Then seventh period my thoughts turned into actuality when I was graced with presence, well actually I was graced with the presence of the entire English class taught by Ms. Stewart, who had to go home because her basement was flooding. They couldn’t find an emergency sub so our principle merged the English classes for the last class period of the day.
I sat by the window in the back row and with my head supported by my hand as I studied the water pour down from the grey sky because this was more interesting than listening to Mr. Arnold lecture about Jane Eyre .
When I heard Kristen’s high pitch laughter, I turned abruptly from the window and my thoughts, and saw twenty-three students file into the room with Kristen in the lead. Her hair was straightened and highlighted blonde. That was new. Her eyebrows were darker, her cheekbones highlighted, her eyelashes longer, her lips plumper. She scratched her upper arm with painted pink fingernails and whispered something in Sydney’s ear who stood close by to her. Their arms almost linked. They both wore their blue and white cheerleading uniforms.
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