Sophomore Slump Or Comeback Of The Year?

So…a week before school started, my family convinced me to stop moping and do something. Or, more specifically, my little brother Eric did.

I mean, I’d been doing stuff since I arrived in Chicago. I had unpacked, and cried, and texted Natalie, and cried, and played guitar, and eaten lots of junk food, and IM’d some of my friends, and cried, and slept, and doodled, and eaten more junk food, and—rarely—played with Eric.

Lots of people have issues with their younger siblings. I don’t. Eric, the little, hyperactive, adorable, seven year-old boy is a little, bouncing ray of sunshine in my life. He seems to be the only one that’s making a genuine effort to cheer me up. His little coloring pages with oddly-tinted trees and bunnies and who knows what else have never meant so much before: I’ve put two or three of them up on the wall, somewhere between my MCR posters, photos of friends, and other random tidbits.

I knew I owed him something for his small attempts to making me feel better. That day, Eric asked Dad to take him to the park. The poor kid was on the verge of tears after Dad explained that he had been looking for work all morning and he was tired and blah blah blah! (I say he just didn’t want to miss the soccer game on TV) As reluctant as I was to face the outside world, I offered to take him instead. Dad seemed relieved when Eric ran over to me, suddenly much happier. Dad told me how to get there (“Just go down the street for two blocks, you can’t miss it!”), and we set out.

Eric grasped my hand as we walked down the sidewalk, practically skipping as he beamed at the world. I made him stand still for a second—not at all an easy task, mind you—and pulled my iPod shuffle out of my pocket. I might as well bond with my music, right? I clipped the little gray rectangle onto my t-shirt collar and put on my bulky, not-earbud headphones (I personally think they look cooler. Besides, they don’t fall out, and they’re really good at blocking outside noise.) As the music of the Way brothers, Frank Iero, Bob Bryar, and Ray Toro flooded my ears, I felt my arm wiggle. I turned to my brother and saw him pointing at something. I looked at the place his arm had indicated and saw…

A squirrel.

For real?

I rolled my eyes and pulled him along. We came to an intersection, and I halted him. I stopped the music and reminded him of the safety crap (“stop, look, listen!”) before crossing the street. We crossed and continued our trip, my music once again accompanying me. Off in the distance, I could see a splash of color; I guessed it was a piece of the playground. I felt Eric tug on my arm again. I was forced to pause the iPod in mid-song as he asked “Are we there yet?” I smiled and, tousling his soft, brown hair, replied, “Not yet.” I turned the music up again, ready to enjoy some of the newer Panic music until I arrived at the park.

It was not so. Once again, Eric wiggled my arm as he stopped to pick dandelions. I waited patiently, tapping my foot as he tried not to destroy the little clusters of seeds. When he was content, he extended his hand towards me, handing me one of the few undamaged puffs. I felt my heart warmed by the gesture, and I joined him in the childhood ritual.

I wish I had my friends, I thought, dispersing the seeds with a soft breath. Only half of them flew away, so I huffed a little harder. Then, I watched with amusement as Eric tried to blow the seeds away from three different flowers at the same time, eventually brushing off the remnants with his hand. He grasped my hand once more, interrupting me twice more to point out a passing pooch with its owner and another squirrel. I resolved to ignore him until we got to the park.

We were now crossing the final intersection before the park. We stepped along the crosswalk, and I stopped on the sidewalk, taking my small, drawstring backpack off and opening it to retrieve Eric’s Frisbee.

I handed it to the little boy, and he dashed off onto the grass to find a place to play. I lingered on the sidewalk, taking off my headphones and putting them in the Frisbee’s old spot. I turned off my iPod, but before I could put it away, I heard a nervous-sounding “Who-oo-a!”

I turned and saw someone on a speeding skateboard, only about three feet away from me.