<Insert Creative Title Here...> Pt. 1
Hey guys! So I had another dream. However, this dream sparked the creative juices in my soul to produce this half dream/half inner thought story. I will continue to post them as I create more of their story, but I am so excited about this!!!
First Day. First Sight. First Fall.
“When I said to knock them dead, I didn’t mean literally…”
Reese
“Reese Lynn, you need to remember I set up for you to work in the training room at school this semester to help pay your tuition, so please do not forget.” This isn’t the average start of the day for a nineteen year old. But for me, this is how my day started.
Today also happens to be my first day of college, but that isn’t a high priority for my mother. Apparently the financial situation at home is more important than a major milestone in my life. Instead of answering her, I march down the hallway straight out the door and to my best friends car.
My best friend, Harper Lee Jenkins (yes, her parents are big fans of To Kill a Mockingbird), walked up to me one day in third grade and said, “You and Me? We are friends now.” Since that day, we have been inseparable, except for that stint of time in sixth, but we don’t talk of that.
I shlump down in Harper’s car, obviously upset about the discussion this morning. Harper either doesn’t notice my sour mood or she decides to ignore it because the first thing out of her mouth is, “Girl, are you ready to catch us some seniors? I would even be happy with a junior, but the freshmen and sophomores will just not do anymore. I am ready for bigger and better things, if you know what I mean…”
She giggles like someone with a secret and continues, “Remember, you told me you would go and watch football practice with me after school, so I will meet you at 3:15 on the dot in the science hall, down by the field. I am ready to hunt, I will leave this week with a football boyfriend if it kills me.”
Oh no, she is not going to like this, “Harp, my lovely mother made arrangements for me to work in the training room this semester to help pay for tuition. So I won’t be done until at least halfway through practice.”
Harper calmly pulls the car into the high school parking lot; there are balloons all over the signs, welcoming us to school. “Reese Lynn Davidson, there is no way you are letting your psychotic mother take away from our goal of having football-playing, senior boyfriends. That is that, your mother will just have to find a different way to pay for your college education. Simple as that.” It scares me how calm Harper said that. Usually she isn’t in control of her emotions, this is just scary.
“Harp, I can’t bail on mother. She will hunt me down, in the stands, at school, and make a huge scene where you are trying to find a suitable boyfriend. Can’t imagine that would look good to possible boyfriends.” I know I’ve got her; nobody messes with Harper’s chance of getting a boyfriend.
She humphs, then jumps out of her car and slams the door. I take that as my cue to get out and start our day.
****
There are a lot of differences with Harper Lee Jenkins and myself. One being how we dress, Harper is dressed to the nines. A skin tight, off one shoulder shirt, paired with “Grease” level black leather pants, rounded off with five inch heals; Harper is a sight. She has some smokey eye think going on with full movie star hair and brilliant red lips. She looks like she should be going out clubbing in California, not attending the first day of freshman year at small college in Middle of Nowhere, Kansas.
Then you have me. My personal style is a complete 180° flip from Harper’s. For example, instead of high heels I have on my trusty maroon Converse on. And instead of leather pants and an off the shoulder blouse, I have on Wal-Mart jeans and a shirt I found in my older brother’s closet. No movie star hair for me, instead I have my brown, almost black locks in a loose messy bun on the top of my head. The last big difference between Harper and myself is my glasses. I have horrible sight, so I have some thick blue-rimmed glasses on my head at all times.
So yeah, I’ve been called a lot of names while around Harper. My favorite is when someone looked at me point blank and called me a DUFF – designated, ugly, fat friend. I get it; nobody is as pretty as Harper Lee, but still. That’s not okay.
Since that day, I’ve had some serious self-image problems. However, I’m quite content just wearing my baggy, outdated clothes in order to fulfill my “DUFF” status. The day that jockstrap told me I was a DUFF, I quit trying. If I was going to be a DUFF while I tried, why not quit trying and give the people what they expected?
****
Anyway, you could say Harper Lee was NOT happy with my outfit choice. “Really Reese? You couldn’t even try for the first day? That’s just not okay,” she sighed at me while walking down the sidewalk.
I just rolled my eyes, I don’t respond to her since I know her little rant isn’t over.
“I mean, seriously Reese? Just because one stupid moron called you a DUFF doesn’t give you the right to look like a homeless person. It is important to look your best just incase
you meet “the one”. I just can’t fathom why you would do this to your future like you are.” Her voice continually rose until she was almost yelling. This is quite impressive.
“Harper, relax. I’m not boy hunting like you are. Maybe take my outfit choice as a sign that I am here to make you look good. I want you to be happy. So I dressed down for you. You’re welcome. “ I’m trying so hard to sell this little fib that I run straight into a wall.
Well, it wasn’t a wall. Instead, it was a huge, mountain of a man. I look up from my spot on the floor, because yes I did fall down after our little collision. I am greeted with the bluest eyes that have ever graced the world. They are the color of the Caribbean, according to pictures on Google. I am taken back, I literally gasp when I see these beautiful eyes.
The next thing that hits me is his jaw line. Prominent with a peppering of hair, his jaw looks like it could cut glass. I am mesmerized. I want to reach out and touch his face, but my common sense kicks in. I jump up and say, “Um, next time could you be more like the Berlin wall and less like the Great Wall of China?”
He just looks at me, never making a sound. So, unfortunately I continue, “You know, crumble? Like the Berlin wall in 1989? Fall next time.” He is still looking at me, saying nothing.
It is probably important to know that I suffer from word vomit if given an awkward situation, so I continue to let the words fall from my mouth. “No big guy, don’t worry. I am fine. I’m just going to get up and head to class, thanks for asking though. That was really nice.”
The giant wall of solid muscle didn’t make a move to talk or help me up, so I got up myself, dusted my backside off, grabbed Harper and brushed past the giant Neanderthal that mowed me down.
Weird............
To be continued.
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28.12.2017, age 22
