Love: Military Style

Love: Military Style Chpt. 8

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Ryan was becoming one of my best friends. He was funny and charming, and he was more western than Tanya or David. Which meant I had someone to go to Grizzly Rose with, or go ride horses with. I boarded my horse at the same barn that he did, and he declared that we were destined to meet because of this small fact. He always made me laugh, whether it was by doing amazing impressions of my favorite comedians, or just talking to me.

In fact, we were becoming so close that I invited him to Tanya's upcoming party on Friday. She was throwing two parties in one week. This Friday's party was celebrating our last week as seniors, and the  party next Friday was celebrating our passage into adulthood being over. 

I let her know as we walked into school on Tuesday.

"I invited Ryan to the party, just this week's though."

"Good," she pushed her bag's strap back up on to her shoulder, "next week's is just for our class and their hot siblings."

We made our way to my locker, where I proceeded to shove all of shit into it haphazardly. Senior check out was next Monday, and I figured I would clean it then. The mess had been a year in the making, and if I was being honest, I was proud of the bio hazard I'd created. Slamming my door shut, I glanced at the clock in the hall. I had two minutes to make it to my Civics class.

Because it was the last week, we were doing presentations and makeup work if there was any needed to be done. My presentation was the first to go, so I could have as much free time that I wanted for my makeup assignment. I'd botched an essay, and I wanted an A in this class.

Sitting down at my normal desk, I pulled out my laptop and booted it up. It was really pretty, David had made a design for me, when I had it custom built. It was deep red, with swirling music notes and in silver, my favorite quote of all time, from the Great Gatsby. "Reserving judgements in a matter of infinite hope." F. Scott Fitzgerald was genius.

It reminded me hold off on my judgements, for the hope that they would prove untrue. While that hadn't been true in most cases, it had made me more open to people, hoping that in return, they would do the same, rendering judgements useless and unnecessary.

I proceeded to write the end of my essay, and turned it in. I had three free periods in a row because I had completed so many classes early in my high school career so I could have the free time my final year. It was time for me to head to the music room and work on the song that I would be performing for Uncle Dan's client.

My music was in my locker, so I ran to it. The halls were fairly empty, with the exception of a few other seniors who like me, had an off period, and a teacher who was supervising to make sure we didn't set something on fire, or get into a fight. They were probably watching us to see if we would pull our annual senior prank. 

Our prank was planned for Thursday. During lunch, we would be sneaking around the school, setting up what would be the most epic paint fight of all time. We would be filling up water balloons with paint, and once lunch was over, the war would begin. Designated people would burst into classrooms and begin the bombardment of paint, while others would have hidden the supplies in their bag, to attack their classroom and lead us into the parking lot, where all of the seniors would ditch the rest of the day.

The rest of the day passed by quickly, and I was pleased with the way my song was turning out. I was confident that the client would love it. 

Climbing into my truck, I plugged in my phone so I could play music. The radio was OK, but I preferred no commercials and only songs that I liked. It had an incredible sound system. I drove a cherry red Ram 3500 Laramie Longhorn with a 6 inch lift. It had been birthday present from Dan, and he even made sure that the paint job had lots of sparkles that flashed in the sun.