Forever Running

I woke up early , laying on something soft yet firm. I stretched, my back lengthening, pushing my chest into my makeshift mattress. I heard a groan and my eyes flashed open. I was laying on Jayson.

His eyes were closed and his breathing was even. I had to assume he was still asleep and move off him before he realized I was on him. I shifted my body, getting ready to slide out of his arms when they tightened. In doing so, Jayson pushed my hips closer to his.

"Don't move," he half-whispered half-groaned.

"Why?" I tried to sit as still as possible; knowing me I happened to do the opposite of what I actually wanted to do. I ended up squirming. Jayson moaned, then cursed under his breath. I immediately felt his reason for wanting me to sit still.

I bit my lip and blushed. I was used to feeling this. Well, not the feeling in the pit of my stomach, but the feeling outside my hips. It felt weird to be in this position with someone I actually liked.

Jayson opened his eyes and stared at me. Just stared, nothing else. I blushed even harder as we waited out his 'special problem'.

"I like it when you do that," he said suddenly.

"Um, what?"

"Oh, no! I meant I like it when you blush. God, I'm sor- I didn't - I'm an ass," he stuttered and blushed along with me.

"Guess what?" I asked.

"What?"

"I like it when you blush, too."

So we lay there for a while. Trying to ignore Jayson's 'friend'. Trying to make an awkward situation into a funny one. Unfortunately, it didn't help very much. But hey, you can't fault us for trying.

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About an hour later, Jayson and had showered and was dressed in black skinny jeans and a white Pink Floyd tee. When I got out of the shower, he was spiking his hair with a bottle of gel we'd bought yesterday.

I walked into my closet and grabbed the outfit Jayson had picked out for me; gray skinny jeans and a dark purple halter. I put them on and walked back to the bathroom.

I combed my hair and started to blow dry. Jayson took the blow dryer. Afterward, he straightened my hair and gelled it up so it wouldn't go anywhere.

"Why do you know how to do girls' hair?" I asked.

"First of all, it's like doing my hair. Second, I have a younger sister."

"I didn't know that."

"We don't know a lot about each other actually."

"Well, then, when I get kicked out of class for not wearing uniform and you because you back talked, we can catch up."

Jayson chuckled and said,, "We won't get kicked out. And we don't need school to tell each other things about ourselves."

"There's only one problem. Guys don't have to wear uniforms; girls do. If i get kicked out - which I will - they'll call my uncle."

"No, they won't."

"Oh? And why is that?"

"Because they're scared of him."

I opened my mouth, then, having no point to argue, closed it. Jayson smirked. I shoved him and his shoulder hit the door.

I checked my alarm clock and saw that it was time to leave. Jayson shoved his bag out the window and followed it. I walked through the front door - my uncle was still sleeping, so no issues with clothing .... yet. I then walked to the side of the house, where Jayson and I left our bikes. We mounted and rode to the nearest 7-11 and grabbed a bag of chips. we rode the rest of the fifteen minutes to school.

We arrived and chained up our bikes. I took a shaky breath and Jayson reached for my hand. He gave me a reassuring squeeze and we walked through the front doors.

Just then, it felt like the movies. Time slowed and the wind blew my hair around my face. People - students and administrators alike - turned in seemingly slow motion, looks of shock, disbelief, and awe crossing their faces.

I smiled, feeling more confident then I ever had before. I loved the shock Jayson and I were making. It felt cool. Like I was a true rebel. Like I was in control of my life for once.

Jayson and I walked over to our homeroom - upper and lower classmates gathering to stare. We pulled out our notebooks, ready to attempt to catch up on yesterday's missed assignments.

One of my friends, Jessica Taylor, walked up. I noticed she'd dyed her hair black with under-layers of blonde. The new colors made her green eyes stand out.

"Hey Victoria! I haven't seen you since summer school. How've you been?" she asked.

“I’m fine. Oh, Jess, this is Jayson Fielder,” I replied pointing to him. They shook hands.

“Er, Vicky?” she asked hesitantly.

“Yeah?”

“Could I talk to you privately?”

“Sure.”

We walked into the hallways, everyone staring as we went.

“So, what’s up?” I asked.

“Well … there’s no polite way to ask this so … well, what the hell are you wearing?”

I was slightly taken aback, but realized she’d never seen my in jeans before.

“Well, these are street clothes,” I replied.

“But, where’s your uniform?”

“Jayson and I are starting a protest; either everyone wears a uniform or no one wears them.”

“Oh! So, like, a protest for equilibrium?”

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Can I join?”

“Um, well, okay , I guess. If you want to. We’re protesting through the clothes we wear, rather than rallies and marches, but if you want to join ….”

“I’d have to wear street clothes to school, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. I’ll go home at lunch and change. Oh, can I sit with you guys at lunch?”

“Sure, we sit under – “

“A wicked scary tree, I know,” I gave her a quizzical look and she added, “I saw you the other day.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Well, see ya later then.”

“Yeah, see you later.”

I shook my head and smiled as I watched her skip to class. I turned back and almost instantly was sitting at my desk. I quickly relayed to Jayson what had happened. He looked somewhat …. pleased? Thrilled?

I didn’t know, but I was glad my old friends were getting along with the new and vice versa.

He’d agreed to let Jessica eat lunch with us,, and amazed me by going so far as to say we should ‘recruit’ protestors.

“We could use the help,” he reasoned.

“Okay. We should have a meeting after school, only people we trust though.”

“What ‘bout your uncle?”

“I’ll tell him I’m turning in early. Oh no, wait. I could ask if I could go to a friends’ house for a study date. After what I did for him, he’ll be sure to let me go. I dunno, I’ll think of something.”

And this began our plan for rebellion against uniforms.