If You Fall

The hallway is loud and cluttered with the sounds and smells of adolescents. One of my arms swings and brushes against bodies as I weave through the crowds, taking my usual long, heavy, and measured steps. The other holds onto the thick cushioned strap of a backpack I've had since elementary school.

It used to be easier carrying around hoards of stuffed animals than text books, that's for sure.

I begin to roll my eyes as a group of girls to my left begin to squeal and jump up and down, causing heads to turn in curiosity. When my eyes meet the eyes of my friend Dan a few feet away, we both laugh a bit and shake our heads.

"Top o' the morning to you." He says in a fake British accent, trying to disguise the low octave of his natural vocal chords, completing the charade with a bow and wave of his arm.

"Hey there." I say bemusedly, a smirk on my face from his playful cantor. We fall into step towards English class in the L-Wing, and his familiar scent of laundry detergent and dog hair is comforting. I take a deep breath and turn towards him, taking in the darker tan of his skin and the tufts of dark brown hair in front of his eyes. "So how are things going for you this morning?"

He pauses just a second long enough to contemplate how much he is willing to share. "Eh, same old, same old, you know? Mom fell asleep on the couch again, and I had to get my brother ready for school." his voice is just hesitant enough for me to know he doesn't want to say much more.

"That sucks, man. You're a good brother though, Dan. He's lucky to have you." With my response, I try to be gentle, and extend my hand to put on his large shoulder just briefly in a comforting way. I know what he's not saying: That his mother was too wasted last night to wake up this morning. Ever since his father divorced her, he's had to take care of his little brother, Zachary.

"Yeah, whatcha going to do?" He shrugs and laughs half-heartedly, turning towards me. When I begin to bite my lip and nod in understanding, he changes the subject. "How about you, Lizard?"

I laugh naturally, the familiar nickname still sounding as silly as ever. "Oh you know, always just working. Going to see if I can't finish up that homework assignment in class before he collects it."

Seizing the opportunity to shift gears and tease me, Dan playfully shoves my arm, scolding me for being such a procrastinator as we continue down the hallway.

````

"When working with more than one variable.."

I sigh as my math teacher begins to talk about finding the value of X, letting my hand hover above my notebook as I look out the window. Its fairly sunny outside, and the wind is moving the trees just slightly. I watch the subtle movements of the leaves shifting and falling for a few minutes, lost in thought.

'How am I going to afford to buy gas next week? Or groceries for that matter. I have to figure out how much I'm getting paid..'

As soon as these thoughts enter my mind, I glance away from the window and make eye contact with my teacher. I do this so she knows I'm listening as she writes more on the board in a pale yellow chalk, arrows and equal signs taking up more and more room. Once I'm satisfied that she's confident in my attention span, I begin writing.

'Okay, so my next paycheck is in two days, and I've got to send that check in by Thursday so..' As I begin to have conversations in my head about budgeting, number begin to appear on the page of my notebook. Luckily, I can disguise these numbers and equations in math, where the same language is spoken, if not directed toward something different. I already understand how to solve the equations she's explaining, so I feel fine.

So much of my time spent in class is spent figuring out something else. On some days, I wish I could just skip class and go get everything done that I need too. On others, I'm satisfied being in a place where things are so seemingly simple: Figure out this equation, read this chapter, write this paper. A place where I don't have to figure out problems that "adults" should be handling.

Dan had asked to hang out with me that night, and I felt so bad telling him that I couldn't because I have to close up the store at 9. I promised to call him later though, and figure out a time that I could see him. I knew he needed to vent.

'Just another day..' I think as the bell rings and others begin to gather their things, talking about the game that was being played tonight, and the clubs they were going to after school.

Closing up the notebook I had out with budgets scrawled into the corners, I tuck it into my bag and zip it up. Before sliding the bag onto my shoulders, I pull down the end of my shirt that had ridden up again, perpetually defying gravity. Then I pull the straps over my tired shoulders. Finally, I take out my I-pod, and pres play, letting the loud intro to one of A Change of Pace's songs begin and give me some relief from my thoughts.

It is so loud I can't even hear the sound of my own Doc-Martins falling upon the ground as I make my way out to my car alone.