There is a great distinction between being alone and feeling lonely, although many mistake them as one and the same. Feeling lonely is a state in which I have known very little to genuinely enjoy. However, being alone is something I have often craved and, over the years, become quite good at. In school, though little would agree, it can be a very good state to be in. There's fewer distractions, less harassment, and more freedom to accomplish what you need to. In the end, it leaves me with more free time to just relax and let my mind wander. Being alone is a choice; being lonely is not. And while my mother seems to believe I belong to the latter group, I am actually quite content spending quality time with myself. After all, it's always been my choice to sit alone; I've just never had any contesters. None, that is, until my first day of senior year. And, as my luck would go, he was a persistent talker.
"Alright, everyone, quiet down. before we get started, I would like you all to check your schedule again and make sure you are signed up for Intercultural Communications with Keegan. If not, this would be your cue to leave."
Ms. Keegan was a fairly young woman, probably no older than thirty-five, about average heigh, and a small frame. Still, despite her youth, the amount of energy she possessed seemed unnatural. Her words almost strung together into a single unit as she delivered an entire speech in a mere breath. And, no sooner than a quick breath would allow did she continue on her list of introductions that were so clearly memorized and recited far prior to the resuming of school.
"Great, now that you are all here, let us begin!"
Ms. Keegan continued on her rant but I was only paying partial attention to the words that flew out of her mouth. It was mostly a run down of the year, and I caught the phrase "year-long project", at which point I entirely tuned out, not because of boredom, but rather because I already had my completed copy resting in a folder that was in the backpack currently between my feet.
Instead of worrying about that, I was able to sink into my chair comfortably and enjoy how good it felt to have a smile spread across my face and enjoy my success. This was my last class on the first day of senior year, and I had successfully scored a table for one in every one of them... or so I thought. Just as I was taking out my journal from my bag, a knock was heard on the classroom door, followed by one of the school's counselors escorting in a student- one whom I had never seen before.
"Ms. Keegan, sorry to interrupt. Mr. Vice here just moved to town this weekend and I was showing him around. He will be joining your class, so please mark him present."
New student. Well that explains the whole unfamiliarity part. Though I hadn't made friends with many people at school, I knew just about everyone from spending countless hours in the school's publishing lab as chief editor for the newspaper, which gave me access to all media files, including yearbook pictures.
"You can take a seat wherever you like. I was about to pass out the syllabus for the year, so you made it just in time."
Instinctively, I put my head down and stared at my feet. Over the years, I have learned the best body language cues that give off the "don't speak to me" vibe. And while avoiding eye-contact almost never works on a teacher, but in fact makes them even more inclined to call on you, this same act of avoidance works very well on my fellow peers. I had a one hundred percent success rate with it over my entire schooling career. But, as with everything good in life, it must come to an end at some point. And "Mr. Vice" here dropped that stat down to a ninety-nine as he pulled out the chair beside me and took his seat. This kid seriously must be ignorant to social cues.
I let out a barely audible moan as I slid my journal back in my bag, knowing that all opportunities of me having private time with my thoughts in this class had been tarnished.
"I'm sorry, did you say something?"
I quickly looked up and stared at the kid sitting next to me. Making quick once-over, I came to realize that my new partner was either an athlete or had a strong obsession with workout attire. I also concluded that he was most likely not a pothead or a smoker of any sort as he smelled clean, as far as boys go anyway, and the whites of his eyes were clear of the red that consumed about half the student body here. Instead, you could see his eyes for what they were, a golden brown, much like that of his tousled hair.
"Hello?" he asked slowly, starting to look confused.
"What? Oh, no. No, I uh- I didn't say anything," I managed, trying to make up for my rude staring while not trying to give off the impression that I was looking for a conversation or a lifelong companion.
But, with the break in Ms. Keegan's speech to hand out the syllabus, this kid had plenty of time to pursue talking.
"As you've probably figured out by now, I'm new here and I don't know a single soul at this school. I'm crap with names, but as you're the first person I've had the chance to meet, I know I won't have any trouble remembering yours?"
It was really more of a statement than a question, but I could tell the way his voice went up every so slightly at the end that this was his indirect way of asking me what my name was. Typical. Nevertheless, I replied, "Dani."
"I like that. Nice to meet you, Dani," he flashed a smile, revealing perfectly white teeth- another good sign that he probably didn't smoke. Either that or this kid bought white strips by the box.
He shook my hand and held it in his rough, callus-y hands. Formal, polite, and doesn't have a smoking issue. I was running out of reasons to get away from this guy. At this point he had held on to the handshake just a second too long and I found myself pulling my hand away gently, resuming the grip I had held on my arm. But he was still looking back at me, making me question if he could hear the thoughts running through my head and once again I was reminded why I preferred to be alone. He was probably secretly judging me in that pretty little head of his; the thought of it made me want to barf.
"This is the part where you say,"Do you have a first name, Mr. Vice?""
I drew my glance away from my feet and back to his face. Was this kid serious?
"Oh, c'mon, humor me."
It was an innocent smile he gave, but it was about one level of pushiness away from a smirk and I wasn't in the mood to put up with that. Still, it was an innocent smile and I barely knew the guy well enough to place some judgement on his motive in all of this, so I decided to play along. "Do you have a first name, Mr. Vice?" I mimicked, smirking at the end for good measure; a smirk almost to the point where it was cocky, much like the one I'd despise him for dishing, but enough of a smirk to let him know that I wasn't about to be played by any games. This kid had one shot that would determine if I would ever speak to him again. His reaction would be the determinator. Once again, he failed to give me a reason to hate him.
"Thank you," he smiled, clearly getting off on my teasing. "And yes, I do. I'm Asher, and I am very pleased to be sharing this glorious table in eighth period with you."
And with that, I mentally slapped myself. Why couldn't he be a normal teenager and smoke or something?
There are two types of people in this world: those who thrive on doing the unexpected, and those who prefer to skip the spontaneous phase of life that is high school and college, and instead stick to the same daily routine that keeps them in their comfort zone. Very few people fall somewhere in-between, and that's because we are human; and, no matter how much we like to preach that balance is good and healthy, we all fall into an extreme group where we feel like we belong, and then label ourselves as such, even though we joined a campaign preaching labels are bad (Yay for being a part of the anti-label group! Go, anti-labelers!).
Anyway, as I was saying, there's two groups of people. And, if you are part of the 'I-stay-within-my-comfort-zone' crowd as I am, you would know that any incling to go outisde that routine is a rarity; the pursuance of it is an act of God. I had never in all my seventeen years of existence come anywhere close to an incling. So, when the heavens opened up and pushed me to actually put my guard down and talk to this guy as a normal person would, I was just about to call up the local church and let them know a miracle of the Lord just happened.
"Dani? Hello?" Asher waved his hand inches from my face, bringing me out of my daze.
"Huh? What?"
"Question 2. You didn't answer me."
I looked down at the paper Ms. Keegan just gave out. It appeared that she was one of those teachers who thought it'd be a brilliant idea to do a First Day Icebreaker. The first question was just the name of our partner, which Asher had already filled in neatly. Yes, I said neatly. I was beginning to question if this creature who sat beside me was actually a high school boy or some alien from a distant planet. Maybe Tattoine?
"You're not signing your life over to the question. It's just three words. How about you say whatever comes to your mind first?"
Asher already had his pen hovering over the line for the answer as he waited for me to say something. Trying not to let my mind wonder again, I looked at my paper for question number two.
'Question #2: Three words to describe yourself.'
"Nerdy, " I paused.
Wow, great start, Dani. Nothing says cool like describing yourself as nerdy. Alright, get it together on the next one something cool, like-
"Alternative," I blurted out.
One more, Dani. Better make it good.
"And wallflower, I guess."
Wallflower? Really? You just slammed yourself in two of your three words. Nice going, Danielle.
I watched Asher's hand move fast across the line, followed by his mouth opening slightly, as if to make a comment.
"What are yours?" I asked quickly, cutting off any attempt he had planned on making to confront me on my awkward choice in words; I wasn't feeling that daring.
"Professional adventurer," he replied, looking up from his paper only after he finished speaking as if to catcha glimpse of my reaction as a cheek smile spread across his face.
"Professional?" I remarked as I finished jotting down his response. "Well I don't see any credentials, Mr. Vice."
"Well it's not exactly a profession you widely advertise. I don't need any fangirls mobbing me in the halls on my first day. Ya know what I mean?"
I smiled, not being able to control myself, but persisted on questioning. "And that was only two words. She asked for three. Care to share another?"
Without saying a word, I watched as Asher drew out a notecard from his binder. He placed the card in his left hand and began writing on it, sheltering his encryption from my view as if he were about to unveil some huge plot twist.
"Here's my card. If you want to figure out the rest, call that number."
I looked down at the card and read his message:
Asher J. Vice
Professional Adventurer
(571) 262-8639
"I must warn you though," he continued just as I finished reading, but his worse drifted off with an awkward pause.
"What?"
My comment was interrupted as the bell rang, followed by an eruption in the hall of all those getting ready to go tailgating at tonight'ls first home game of the season.
"It comes at a price," Asher continued as the general uproar died down.
I felt my face scrunch up in confusion as I put my folder in my bag and then slung it over my shoulder. I was about to ask Asher about what his comment meant but he was already walking down the hall.
"Nothing is free in this world, Dani. Never forget that."
I wanted to press the issue but I managed to muster enough self-control to resist it. I mean, who ever said I was going to call him anyway?
"Will I see you at the game tonight?" Asher inquired as we walked to the bus lot together.
"No," I answered shortly, continuing to walk forward just as he had done earlier when he left me in the classroom.
"Why not?"
"Because the thought of spending more time with these people on a voluntary basis repulses me and gives me the urge to gag myself with a spoon. Oh, and I have no friends," I wanted to say, but decided it was best if the ugly truth remained in my head.
Instead, I went for a partial truth. "Football games aren't really my thing."
I turned around once I reached my bus, adding,"Besides, I've already far exceeded my daily dose of socialization for the day. If I were to tack on another three hours with you people, someone would end up needing to call an ambulance to take me straight to people detox in the anti-social ward and drug me up on some homo sapien-less rooms filled with Netflix and books. And what a pitty that would be."
Realizing I had just said that out loud, I found it a good time to turn around and head back onto my bus. Unfortunately, Asher wasn't done with me and I soon found myself stopped in my tracks by his voice.
"Hey, Dani, one more thing."
I turned around so I was looking at him, praying he wasn't giving me a look of disapproval and disgust that I had experienced far too many times.
"That card I gave you? Please, dont forget it?"
Relieved my rant had gone unnoticed, or at least unbothered, I smiled. But I had already said far too much already. So, in attempt to save myself from anything else slipping from my mouth, I just nodded. And that seemed to be enough for the both of us.