For a childish example: as kids he would always try a new flavor of Popsicles, insisting that there is so much of life I haven't tasted because I've chosen to settle with something I was already comfortable with. I had the same flavor...every day. Not a big deal huh? But to him, I was the worst person in the world (jokingly) because of it.
"Jaime, you havent lived until you've tasted the blue!" He would tell me and I would just stare at him. "Get out of my mouth and let me enjoy my red pop!" I shouted back, getting ready to slap his popsicle out of his hand. "The red taste like poop." He said, sticking out his tongue. "You look like poop!" I yelled back. "Well you smell like poop!" He said, blinking back at me. "YOU ARE POOP!" I screamed.
We were only 7 at the time, so calling someone a 'poop' was the lowest blow ever. And I've hit it many times. But now we were 17 and in high school and I stayed in my same routine. And I didnt care and he no longer scold me for still, 10 years later, choosing red pops. But always gave me the option of having both the red and another of my choosing. I have yet to.
"Hey, it's the first day back at school. Cheer up!" Jackson said, pinching my cheek and I cringed at him. His ebony eyes marveled back at me, complimenting his olive skin.
"Say that first sentence again." I muttered. "It's the first day-" I stopped him by holding up my hand. "That's death in a sentence. I want to go sleep. I could care less about being an upperclassmen or about the pep rally this week that these freshmen are so excited about." I said, groaning.
"Trust me Sleeping Beauty, I dont think you can get anymore beauty rest. You're as beautiful as they get." He said with a slow smile, ignoring my comments about the pep rally which I then questioned if I'd even attend, but still I glared at him amusement. "Ha-Ha nice try." I say, shoving away from him and made my way to my new locker, which was conveniently close to my dear friend. A herd of girls migrated our way as they exchanged giggles and whispers. No doubt for Jackson but it didn't bother me. Our attraction has always been subtle- at moments- but we both never reacted to it drastically. The foundation of our friendship was too precious for the both of us to jeopardize it with teen love. He captures my glance with his own, as if trying to send me a message to me as the girls strode past us. I heard comments asking if they knew we were together or just friends, only to be replied with a crude remark about the awkwardness that seemed to consume me.
"Break the eye contact please." I say, with a quick scoff, but he did not speak towards the girls.
"Getting lost in my memorizing eyes?" He says, as he hands me my bag which would soon be filled with textbooks I wouldn't even read entirely.
"You wish, but no. I was trying to escape in my thoughts." I added humor to my tone, just in case he didn't hear what the girls had said. But even if he did, would he have said anything?
And as if on que, the bell rings and I slam my locker with slight irritation. "Time to go to class champ." I say, feigning Glee.
"What's your first period?" Jackson asks, digging into his pocket and taking out a folded piece of paper, probably eager to see if we shared one, that way we would be excluded from attending a class as The Loner. At least we'd have each other.
"Journalism/ Creative Writing." I reply and he frowns, "Guess you wont be seeing my face until second period my dear," He says and I roll my eyes. "Oh how will I go on?" I say dramatically and he smirks. "You're a clever girl, you'll find a way." Jackson was such a damn flirt! No, scratch that- unnervingly charismatic with everyone he talks to. But with me, it was something lighter and more intimate and for that, I would be eternally grateful.
I think everyone can agree that, when a teacher makes you do work the first day of school, they are now immediately on your Bad Teacher list.Mr. Yide for example, instructed us to write about an experience in our lives. About our family.
How comedic.
I looked at the clock and and wondered what Jackson was doing? Probably flirting with the teachers.
Pig.
I tried to concentrate but the pencil stood motionless in my hand. What was I supposed to write about? This was such an intense subject for the first day of school and sort of clashed with my new mantra of trying to remain positive. This subject basked in despair and it would take a lot for me to bounce back. It was draining. But then I asked myself a question: are you obliged to speak your truth when asked to?
Chapter 1: Does Jesus Love Me?
Start from the beginning
