headed down the hall towards the science wing.
“Just joined last week."
“You like her don’t you?"
“I just hope she helps us win against Portland next week. So are you going Thursday?"
“What’s happening on Thursday?”
“Rugby? Town hall meeting? This ringing a bell? It’s open mic so anyone can get up and speak."
“Count me out."
“Dammit James it’s the only thing your involved in, how can you not at least show up?"
“Because, honestly, in the big scheme of things whether they keep or get rid of rugby doesn’t matter. It’s just a game," I said. It was total bullshit, rugby was everything to me, but I was trying not to sweat it. “Maybe I’ll join debate instead."
Dean shook his head, “It’s people like you that have allowed this country to fall to shit, nobody willing to fight for a damn thing.”
“I only got one good fight in me—so I’m saving it for something really important."
“I don’t know how you can be so complacent." Dean didn’t wait for a rebuttal before he stormed off. He was mad, but he would get over it.
Arguing with a girl is far different from arguing in debate class. First, girls don’t argue using logic or reason, but emotions. No matter how sound your argument is you can’t win.
By lunch Summer made it clear we were fighting. When I sat down next to her at the lunch table she elbowed Emily and they both got up and left without another word. And that’s how she behaved the rest of the day. By last period I stopped checking my phone and dumped it to the bottom of my bag. I didn’t need it taunting me. I wasn’t about to call her, not until I was certain I knew why she was mad. I jammed to Puddle of Mudd’s She fucking hates me all day.
When I arrived home the garage door was up and my dad’s car was gone. Dad must have been in a hurry because it wasn’t like him to leave it open. I collected my things and made sure to close the garage door behind me as I headed inside. I threw my bag on the kitchen table and went straight to the fridge for a pop. Drank half a can in one gulp and belched Pepsi breath at the fridge.
I leaned against the kitchen sink chugging down the rest of my pop and staring out the bay window into the backyard. It used to be pretty and inviting outside. Our backyard got more gasps, and oohs and aahs, then any of our neighbors. Lawn devoid of crabgrass, flowerbeds of brilliant colored flowers, and lush trees provided shade from scorching summer sun. That same yard no longer looked inviting. Grass brittle and yellow, trees overgrown with branches and flowerbeds filled with nothing more than dirt. I can’t even remember the last time I went out there. Our pool cover hadn’t been taken off in years and looked faded and cracked.The water was probably green beneath it.
Movement in my peripheral pulled my attention to the hallway; two papers fluttered in and settled on the floor next to the dining table. One was receipt for a motion my dad filed and the other was a paternity suit filed by a Lorelei Vargas against a Jameson Franklin. The name niggled at the back of my mind, then I noticed the date it was filed, August 2, 1997. Weird, August 2 was my birthday. A loud knock came from the hallway. I placed the two papers on the table beneath our napkin holder.
I followed the knocking sound down the hall toward my dad’s office hollering his name. Something didn’t feel right. No, it’s all in your head. The hairs on my arms stood up and an overwhelming nervousness hit me.
It was irrational so I pushed it aside.
“Dad you in here?" I opened his office door. There, behind my father’s desk stood a man in a black ski mask. His eyes locked on me.
The intruder dropped the folder he was holding and charged me. Before I could react, or at brace myself he slammed into me sending me back into the bookcase where I crumpled to a heap on the floor. Bolts of white blurred my vision and then everything went black.
Water
“Just joined last week."
“You like her don’t you?"
“I just hope she helps us win against Portland next week. So are you going Thursday?"
“What’s happening on Thursday?”
“Rugby? Town hall meeting? This ringing a bell? It’s open mic so anyone can get up and speak."
“Count me out."
“Dammit James it’s the only thing your involved in, how can you not at least show up?"
“Because, honestly, in the big scheme of things whether they keep or get rid of rugby doesn’t matter. It’s just a game," I said. It was total bullshit, rugby was everything to me, but I was trying not to sweat it. “Maybe I’ll join debate instead."
Dean shook his head, “It’s people like you that have allowed this country to fall to shit, nobody willing to fight for a damn thing.”
“I only got one good fight in me—so I’m saving it for something really important."
“I don’t know how you can be so complacent." Dean didn’t wait for a rebuttal before he stormed off. He was mad, but he would get over it.
Arguing with a girl is far different from arguing in debate class. First, girls don’t argue using logic or reason, but emotions. No matter how sound your argument is you can’t win.
By lunch Summer made it clear we were fighting. When I sat down next to her at the lunch table she elbowed Emily and they both got up and left without another word. And that’s how she behaved the rest of the day. By last period I stopped checking my phone and dumped it to the bottom of my bag. I didn’t need it taunting me. I wasn’t about to call her, not until I was certain I knew why she was mad. I jammed to Puddle of Mudd’s She fucking hates me all day.
When I arrived home the garage door was up and my dad’s car was gone. Dad must have been in a hurry because it wasn’t like him to leave it open. I collected my things and made sure to close the garage door behind me as I headed inside. I threw my bag on the kitchen table and went straight to the fridge for a pop. Drank half a can in one gulp and belched Pepsi breath at the fridge.
I leaned against the kitchen sink chugging down the rest of my pop and staring out the bay window into the backyard. It used to be pretty and inviting outside. Our backyard got more gasps, and oohs and aahs, then any of our neighbors. Lawn devoid of crabgrass, flowerbeds of brilliant colored flowers, and lush trees provided shade from scorching summer sun. That same yard no longer looked inviting. Grass brittle and yellow, trees overgrown with branches and flowerbeds filled with nothing more than dirt. I can’t even remember the last time I went out there. Our pool cover hadn’t been taken off in years and looked faded and cracked.The water was probably green beneath it.
Movement in my peripheral pulled my attention to the hallway; two papers fluttered in and settled on the floor next to the dining table. One was receipt for a motion my dad filed and the other was a paternity suit filed by a Lorelei Vargas against a Jameson Franklin. The name niggled at the back of my mind, then I noticed the date it was filed, August 2, 1997. Weird, August 2 was my birthday. A loud knock came from the hallway. I placed the two papers on the table beneath our napkin holder.
I followed the knocking sound down the hall toward my dad’s office hollering his name. Something didn’t feel right. No, it’s all in your head. The hairs on my arms stood up and an overwhelming nervousness hit me.
It was irrational so I pushed it aside.
“Dad you in here?" I opened his office door. There, behind my father’s desk stood a man in a black ski mask. His eyes locked on me.
The intruder dropped the folder he was holding and charged me. Before I could react, or at brace myself he slammed into me sending me back into the bookcase where I crumpled to a heap on the floor. Bolts of white blurred my vision and then everything went black.
Water
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