Art & Soul
Page 26
“Hey, y’all? Who’s that girl?” I asked, nodding in her direction.
“You mean Awkward Abigail?” Simon said.
I arched an eyebrow. “Huh?”
“Awkward Abigail. She’s the weirdest girl in this school,” he said, tapping his fingers against the table. “A total freak.”
I wondered if he knew how odd it was for him to be calling her a freak when half of the school called him the same thing. I held my hand up in Abigail’s direction and waved her over. “Hey, Abigail.”
“Holy crap, Levi! What are you doing?!” Simon hissed. “You can’t call her over here! That’s social suicide and my social status is already in jeopardy.”
“She seems like a nice girl,” I said, waving her over.
When she approached us with her tray in hands, she tapped her high heels rapidly against the floor. “What is it? Were you calling me? I thought you were calling me over.”
“I was,” I said. “I’m Levi. I just wanted to see if you wanted to eat lunch with me and my friends.”
Her eyes darted back and forth between Aria and Simon. “You want me to eat with you? They’ve never wanted me to eat with them before and I’ve known them since sixth grade.”
She was very forward, and I kind of liked that about her. “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure they changed their minds today, right, guys?” Aria and Simon remained silent. I nudged my foot against Aria’s under the table. “Right, guys?”
Aria raised an eyebrow at me, but nodded. “Right. Yeah, sit down, Awk—Abigail.”
Abigail’s eyes moved to the large clock in the cafeteria and then to her watch. “I only have three minutes to join you.”
“Three minutes sounds great,” I said. She placed her tray down beside me and the four of us sat in weird silence, just staring back and forth at one another.
“Did you Google it, Aria?” Abigail asked.
“Google what?” Aria replied.
“Marcus Aurelius. Remember? Remember I told you to Google him?”
“Oh…right…I haven’t found the time yet.”
“During the Renaissance, people were learning different languages, instruments, painting, building skills, and also fighting off deadly plagues. The fact that our generation now can hardly look up quotes is quite disheartening because we aren’t really doing much with our lives.” The three of us sat quietly, watching Abigail go on and on. She glanced at her watch. “I only have one minute left to sit with you guys.”
Well, hell. I liked her spunk.
“What’s a quote by Marcus?” I asked. Abigail’s face looked up at me, and she gave me a tiny smile.
“‘The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane,’” she quoted.
She stared into my eyes as if she were trying to say to me, “I know your secret.” I shifted around and gave her a tiny grin. “What made you quote that one?”
“Don’t know.” She pushed herself up from the table and picked up her tray. “Just did. Gotta go, time doesn’t wait for anyone, ya know.”
She started off, but before leaving, she turned toward Simon. “I like your sweater, Simon. Maroon makes your eyes pop.” Her cheeks blushed over and she was off, dashing to her next adventure.
“In the South, did you guys not believe in social suicide? Because seriously…you’re pushing us all into the land of misfit toys,” Simon argued, giving me a hard stare.
“I think she likes you,” I said to the panicked redhead.
He opened his mouth to holler my way, but he shut it fast. His thoughts seemed to be racing through his head, his facial expressions showing his confusion about what I’d said. With haste, he pushed himself up from the table. “I’m going to get lunch.”
Aria sat across from me, narrowing her eyes in my direction. “What’s your deal? What was that all about?”
I didn’t answer her, because I wasn’t exactly sure myself.
* * *
“Two words for you, dude. Social. Suicide.” Connor was lecturing me in the locker room as we changed for sixth hour gym class. “You can’t keep eating lunch with those freaks if we are ever going to get invited to the best parties.”
How did I end up having so many classes with this guy? I’d already been invited to the ‘best parties’, I just hadn’t found a reason to ever go. I’d rather sit at home and be ignored by the father who didn’t want me.
“I’m telling you, if we are going to get the kittens to meow our way, we need to avoid certain taboo things. That includes Awkward Abigail. She’s the worst thing a person could be seen with.”
“She’s not a thing, Connor. She’s a person,” I said, pulling my gym shirt over my head.
“I’m just saying, man. I get that it’s probably that Southern hospitality thing, but pull back a little.”
Simon walked into the locker room and opened his locker. He never really talked in gym class, but I could tell it was his least favorite thing, seeing as how half of the guys picked on him and he was always chosen last for teams.
Connor started talking some more bullshit in a sickening manner, but I was becoming pretty good at tuning him out. I would’ve been better off sitting in the front of Mr. Jones’ math class being spat on.
During class we played field hockey out on the soccer field. Mr. Jenson was the fattest gym teacher at Mayfair Heights, and he made sure to always belittle the students who weren’t the best at sports. Luckily I wasn’t too bad, but the way he spoke down to some of the others was disgusting. I wondered if he and Connor were related.
“Alabama,” Mr. Jenson called out to me. The nickname had stuck more than I’d wanted it to. “You’re captain. Jason, you’re captain, too.”
“Hell yeah!” Connor said, walking out toward my team as if I’d picked him.
“I pick Simon,” I said, making Connor freeze.
“What?” he and Simon said simultaneously.
“I said Simon. You’re up.”
Everyone around us started laughing as if I was kidding, but the small smile that appeared on Simon’s face when his name wasn’t called last was worth it, even if we did get our asses handed to us that day.
“You mean Awkward Abigail?” Simon said.
I arched an eyebrow. “Huh?”
“Awkward Abigail. She’s the weirdest girl in this school,” he said, tapping his fingers against the table. “A total freak.”
I wondered if he knew how odd it was for him to be calling her a freak when half of the school called him the same thing. I held my hand up in Abigail’s direction and waved her over. “Hey, Abigail.”
“Holy crap, Levi! What are you doing?!” Simon hissed. “You can’t call her over here! That’s social suicide and my social status is already in jeopardy.”
“She seems like a nice girl,” I said, waving her over.
When she approached us with her tray in hands, she tapped her high heels rapidly against the floor. “What is it? Were you calling me? I thought you were calling me over.”
“I was,” I said. “I’m Levi. I just wanted to see if you wanted to eat lunch with me and my friends.”
Her eyes darted back and forth between Aria and Simon. “You want me to eat with you? They’ve never wanted me to eat with them before and I’ve known them since sixth grade.”
She was very forward, and I kind of liked that about her. “Yeah, but I’m pretty sure they changed their minds today, right, guys?” Aria and Simon remained silent. I nudged my foot against Aria’s under the table. “Right, guys?”
Aria raised an eyebrow at me, but nodded. “Right. Yeah, sit down, Awk—Abigail.”
Abigail’s eyes moved to the large clock in the cafeteria and then to her watch. “I only have three minutes to join you.”
“Three minutes sounds great,” I said. She placed her tray down beside me and the four of us sat in weird silence, just staring back and forth at one another.
“Did you Google it, Aria?” Abigail asked.
“Google what?” Aria replied.
“Marcus Aurelius. Remember? Remember I told you to Google him?”
“Oh…right…I haven’t found the time yet.”
“During the Renaissance, people were learning different languages, instruments, painting, building skills, and also fighting off deadly plagues. The fact that our generation now can hardly look up quotes is quite disheartening because we aren’t really doing much with our lives.” The three of us sat quietly, watching Abigail go on and on. She glanced at her watch. “I only have one minute left to sit with you guys.”
Well, hell. I liked her spunk.
“What’s a quote by Marcus?” I asked. Abigail’s face looked up at me, and she gave me a tiny smile.
“‘The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane,’” she quoted.
She stared into my eyes as if she were trying to say to me, “I know your secret.” I shifted around and gave her a tiny grin. “What made you quote that one?”
“Don’t know.” She pushed herself up from the table and picked up her tray. “Just did. Gotta go, time doesn’t wait for anyone, ya know.”
She started off, but before leaving, she turned toward Simon. “I like your sweater, Simon. Maroon makes your eyes pop.” Her cheeks blushed over and she was off, dashing to her next adventure.
“In the South, did you guys not believe in social suicide? Because seriously…you’re pushing us all into the land of misfit toys,” Simon argued, giving me a hard stare.
“I think she likes you,” I said to the panicked redhead.
He opened his mouth to holler my way, but he shut it fast. His thoughts seemed to be racing through his head, his facial expressions showing his confusion about what I’d said. With haste, he pushed himself up from the table. “I’m going to get lunch.”
Aria sat across from me, narrowing her eyes in my direction. “What’s your deal? What was that all about?”
I didn’t answer her, because I wasn’t exactly sure myself.
* * *
“Two words for you, dude. Social. Suicide.” Connor was lecturing me in the locker room as we changed for sixth hour gym class. “You can’t keep eating lunch with those freaks if we are ever going to get invited to the best parties.”
How did I end up having so many classes with this guy? I’d already been invited to the ‘best parties’, I just hadn’t found a reason to ever go. I’d rather sit at home and be ignored by the father who didn’t want me.
“I’m telling you, if we are going to get the kittens to meow our way, we need to avoid certain taboo things. That includes Awkward Abigail. She’s the worst thing a person could be seen with.”
“She’s not a thing, Connor. She’s a person,” I said, pulling my gym shirt over my head.
“I’m just saying, man. I get that it’s probably that Southern hospitality thing, but pull back a little.”
Simon walked into the locker room and opened his locker. He never really talked in gym class, but I could tell it was his least favorite thing, seeing as how half of the guys picked on him and he was always chosen last for teams.
Connor started talking some more bullshit in a sickening manner, but I was becoming pretty good at tuning him out. I would’ve been better off sitting in the front of Mr. Jones’ math class being spat on.
During class we played field hockey out on the soccer field. Mr. Jenson was the fattest gym teacher at Mayfair Heights, and he made sure to always belittle the students who weren’t the best at sports. Luckily I wasn’t too bad, but the way he spoke down to some of the others was disgusting. I wondered if he and Connor were related.
“Alabama,” Mr. Jenson called out to me. The nickname had stuck more than I’d wanted it to. “You’re captain. Jason, you’re captain, too.”
“Hell yeah!” Connor said, walking out toward my team as if I’d picked him.
“I pick Simon,” I said, making Connor freeze.
“What?” he and Simon said simultaneously.
“I said Simon. You’re up.”
Everyone around us started laughing as if I was kidding, but the small smile that appeared on Simon’s face when his name wasn’t called last was worth it, even if we did get our asses handed to us that day.
