You hold the sun in your hands..
The sidewalk. The cement was cracked where tiny plants were meant to grow. I always felt like one of those plants. So small, never seen or heard. Pointless. I didn't know that underneath the thick layer of cement was a flower trying to bloom.
The sound of my footsteps was pleasing. Yes, it's odd, but I like it. Even off brand Converse was music to my ears. The wind blew, picking up my shoe laces. The orange leaves fell from their trees. I sighed, shivering the slightest.
My eyes were open, but they closed when the wind got heavier. My peachy hair blew in every direction. I loved the color of my hair. It was a pink, but had an orange look to it as well. So I described it as a peachy pink. Kind of like a salmon color, but more pink. My cat-eared beanie hid my roots. Sadly, the school guidelines say no hats, so I had to say goodbye when I entered the school building.
I pulled it off, knowing my hair was probably frizzy after. I rushed to my locker, realizing the time. The lockers were a slate gray. I entered my combination and opened my locker. It was mostly empty besides a book and a few folders. I shoved my bag in, zipping it open. After I gathered my supplies for class, I darted through the students, making my way to first period. Luckily, I wasn't late this time.
"On time, Miss Black?" My biology teacher, Mr. Maxwell said. He glared at me as I took a seat. A few of my classmates turned to look at me. They're not looking at my roots, are they? I sighed, opening my notebook. I grabbed my black ink pen and began to click it repetitively. It was pleasing. Yes, it's odd, but again, I like it.
"Class, open your textbooks to page forty-three," Mr. Maxwell instructed, deep-voiced. I did as he ordered, along with the rest of the class. "What happens when you don't take notes on the lessons?" Mr. Maxwell asked. I stared at his black moustache. It fit his face quite well.. and I swore it was staring back at me. My classmates were silent as usual. Mr. Maxwell repeated his question, adding, "Hands please." A couple students raised their hands. Mr. Maxwell pointed to a boy with blonde hair in my row.
The boy cleared his throat and answered, "You fail, sir." When I looked at the boy, I could tell he was checking out our teacher's moustache too.
"Is that true Mr. Michaels?" Mr. Maxwell's eyes stared straight into the student's.
The boy said, "Not exactly. If you pay attention and have good memory, you could pass, but most would fail, sir."
Mr. Maxwell nodded. "Who agrees with Mr. Michaels here?"
Every student in the class raised their hand, including me.
I had no idea why Mr. Maxwell asked that question, but he continued on with our daily procedures.
Later, we were dismissed from class. I gathered my things and headed towards the door where the boy from earlier was speaking to Mr. Maxwell. "Miss Black, hold up," he ordered. So, I waited. Mr. Maxwell motioned for me to come to him, so I did. "You are a very hard working student," he told me.
"Yes, sir. I try my best and give my all," I said, trying not to stutter. I was always nervous when speaking to adults or just people in general.
"Mr. Michaels here needs a little help," Mr. Maxwell said. "Your tardies are lowering your average, Miss Black. Doing this could give you extra credit." He wanted me to be a tutor.
The student rubbed his neck, glancing at me. I studied him. Blonde hair, dark eyes, slender figure.
"I'll do it then," I decided. I smiled warmly at both Mr. Maxwell and the Michaels kid.
"I'll let you two work it out then. You are dismissed," Mr. Maxwell smiled back for once.
I walked out of the classroom. The boy followed me. "So uh, what's your name?" He asked me
"November Black," I said, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear. I bit my lip as I looked at him.
"Yeah. I'm Michael. Michael Michaels," he chuckled. He was acting shy around me. I assumed he was an introvert.
"Sounds catchy," I grinned, holding my books close to my chest. Doing that, made me feel protected.
"Yep. My parents thought so too apparently," Michael licked his lips, still giggling. He was looking down at the floor, avoiding eye contact. Definitely shy.
"Can we talk at lunch?" I asked.
"Of course," Michael replied, looking up. He smiled.
"See you then, Michael."
I headed to my second period class, which was Mathematics. I yawned, when suddenly I was pushed to my knees..
"I am SO sorry, Hoevember!"
Fucking Julian Carlile.
