Thinking Back to Those Days

French came around. Chemistry was useless, and I made a mental note that if I was to skip any class, it would be that one. In French I was asked to introduce myself in the language, before I took my seat next to Billie Joe. He beamed at me, and deep inside, I had butterflies, though I didn’t know why. Was it his adorable face? “METAL!!!” shirt? Or was it nice manners, the backwards cap, or those stunning green eyes that were the prettiest thing I had ever seen with my own plain brown ones?
***

“Thanks Bill that was the hardest translation I have ever done. You guys are way ahead in the language department compared to my school, so thanks for all the help you gave me today. But tell me, why is it that you all aren’t ahead in the field of science!”

He laughed and told me that the school was the “most ghetto” thing he had ever come in contact with. Together we shared a giggle and his rang sweetly in my ears.

The butterflies came again.

“Do you want to hang out sometime? I am in the process of making a band; maybe you can come and watch us rehearse? It’s cool if you don’t want to, I was just asking.” He said running his hand through the curls on his head.

I knew my face was showing some kind of weird expression because he threw in that last part, and started looking down at his worn shoes. I told the butterflies to sit down and shut the fuck up, and then changed my visage to a quick smile.

“Sure, just tell me when, and I will be there. Starting a band sounds really cool.” I said putting my things into my backpack.

He shook his head and the bell rang and we stood up.

“See ya in the courtyard on Friday after school then. Bye Paloma.”

“Bye Billie Joe.”