Let's Burn Our Dreams Into the Skyline

New town, new school new life.
Good bye dear sweet Jersey. I shall miss your sandy beaches and your run-down cities.
From Asbury Park to Atlantic City, you were mine. I was yours.
Anyone else thinks it’s stupid; then again, it is rather stupid. But, if you’re from Jersey, you know.
You own New Jersey. New Jersey owns you.
It’s like a love story between a kid and the garden state.

But nope. Good-bye Jersey. Hello Chicago.
Chicago, the Windy City.
I miss places like Asbury Park; the shithole city.

So I have to go to Illinois. No one from Jersey even said Illinois right. They said “Ill-a-nois” not “Ill-a-noy”. Luckily, I’m not that stupid so I knew how to say it correctly. But that doesn’t mean I’d want to live there.

Well, I’m Chicago bound so I’ll have to make something out of nothing.

Good bye Garden State, hello Windy City.

***
“Ah, our new student. Class. Maxine Porter. Maxine. Class.” New student. I’m new.
I’ve never been new in my life. Ever since I was born I’ve lived in, breathed in, slept in, eaten in, laughed in, and cried in the same house. For fifteen years. That’s saying something, isn’t it?
Well, my new teacher gave me a fake smiled and scooted me over to a seat. Next to some kid. I didn’t really care who, he was just a kid. I didn’t want to make friends here, I wanted out.

I marched down the rows of desks like I was on a pirate ship walking off the plank. I took a seat next to whoever the hell that kid was, and in front of two kids trying to mask their laughs. One looked a lot like the boy and had pitchfork red colored bangs. I assume her and the boy I sat next to were related, judging by the fact they didn’t sit next to each other, there was some wicked sibling rivalry.
Okay, maybe I’m diving too deep into this. But I like to “people watch”. I apologize if that sounds creepy or stalker-ish, but it’s fun. I loved going into the city (which would be New York City here, seeing as though I’m so far from it) and sitting on a bench watching the people hurry by and trying to guess their life stories. My friend Casey and I did that kind of thing all the time. I missed Casey; she was a good friend.

There was a boy sitting next to the girl, he had dirty blonde/light brown hair. He looked like he liked to make people laugh and comfort people. He and the girl were obvious best friends.

So I took my seat next to the other boy, he had dark hair swept to one side and clothing that was rather tight. He had that kind of “I don’t give a fuck” look about him. I could respect a kid like that. And was it just me, or was he looking at my boobs?

“You play?” He motioned at my shirt.

“Well, I don’t really believe in false advertisement. So why would I wear a shirt with a bass on it if I didn’t?” Okay, maybe that was a little too sarcastic, but I don’t want or need Chicago friends.

“Well, your new here, so how am I supposed to know if you’re an idiot who likes to wear things ‘just because their pretty’. And where are you from? You’ve got a hell of an accent.”

“New Jersey. And I have no accent. You’s have accents.” I laughed, purposefully drawing out my Jersey accent.

The boy simply rolled his eyes and stuck out his hand and said “The name’s Pete.”

I briefly debated with myself on whether or not I should make some sarcastic remark, but I couldn’t think of anything so I merely said “Max. Call me Max.”

I received a small tap on the shoulder and spun around to be greeted face-to-face with the girl that sat behind me.

“I hate to break things up, but I must inform you that you are speaking with a dick head.” She said.

“Well, I’m really not sure how it works here, but you guys call yourselves dick heads? That’s a bit confusing.”

“No. I meant him.” She motioned towards Pete. “I’m Linnea, by the way.”

“Linnea is a lovely name.” I smiled. “Mine is much less lovely.”

“Nice to meet you much less lovely.” The boy smirked.

“That’s Alex.” Linnea motioned her head towards the boy.

“Maxine. And if you enjoy having your neck connected to your shoulder’s, call me Max.” I gave a huge sarcastic grin and spun back around. I think the announcements were on, but I really didn’t care. I instead began to paw through my Nightmare Before Christmas purse in search of gum.

“I love that movie.” Pete whispered in my ear, motioning to a picture of Jack Skellington’s head that decorated my purse.

I felt like mumbling something like “And I’d love to have your face not do close to mine.” But that was a tad mean, and I decided that maybe earning myself some friends from the Windy City wouldn’t be so bad.

“Thanks. It’s my favorite.” I smiled un-sarcastically for the first time in quite a while.
He opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by the bell. I grabbed my things and kicked in my chair to walk out the door, but everyone else was still sitting.

“Miss Porter, you have to wait until I dismiss you. In this class we go by the teacher, not the bell.” Mr.…. Higgins(I think) said.

I groaned and plopped back in my seat.

“And on that note: Welcome to Chicago.” Pete grinned. I sighed.

Good-bye Garden State, hello Windy City.