Sinking
003.
2003.
Some people are just generally good at things. Basketball, piano, hockey, typing, unicycling, and even driving – sometimes those things just come naturally. Normally a prodigy finds one thing they rock at and go with it. But Take was sometime else. He was good at everything. He could play masterpieces on the piano, run a four minute mile, paint a picture to hang in a gallery, read college level books, do thousand pieced puzzles in an hour, and memorize all anatomical parts of the heart by the time we were thirteen. Even then everyone knew he was going to end up being valedictorian when we all graduated from high school.
He was the complete opposite of me, of course. I slept in the back of the classroom and did no extracurricular activities. School was boring when I was five and still was in the eighth grade. I wasn’t stupid; I could process every piece of garbage they threw at me – I even did some of Take’s math homework even though I was in a lower level. But public school’s attempt in educating me was going to fall on deaf ears. I just didn’t care.
Take cared. He was always and is the person who gives a damn, which isn’t a bad quality to have. We’re just different in every single way; so how we manage to be best friends astounded me.
Except that day after school – he was going to get a lip ring that matched mine. It would be the one thing that we had in common.
“Yes, Travis Taken Thomas?” Mr. Renn called on Take.
When we were in Jr High, Take would only respond to his full name. It was before I gave him his nickname and he was going through this quirky phase where he would create experiments for people. They were harmless (well, most of them) and he always got a small pleasure every time a teacher took the time to say his full name.
He smirked. “Yes, I just wanted to comment on…” and he continued on with some deep, philosophical remark on the history of our nation.
I watched him talk – but not really listen to what he was saying – in the corner of my eye as I rested my head on my arms. I watched our peers just naturally lean toward him as he spoke like his voice was a magnet.
And he was. I truly think he was.
Some people are just generally good at things. Basketball, piano, hockey, typing, unicycling, and even driving – sometimes those things just come naturally. Normally a prodigy finds one thing they rock at and go with it. But Take was sometime else. He was good at everything. He could play masterpieces on the piano, run a four minute mile, paint a picture to hang in a gallery, read college level books, do thousand pieced puzzles in an hour, and memorize all anatomical parts of the heart by the time we were thirteen. Even then everyone knew he was going to end up being valedictorian when we all graduated from high school.
He was the complete opposite of me, of course. I slept in the back of the classroom and did no extracurricular activities. School was boring when I was five and still was in the eighth grade. I wasn’t stupid; I could process every piece of garbage they threw at me – I even did some of Take’s math homework even though I was in a lower level. But public school’s attempt in educating me was going to fall on deaf ears. I just didn’t care.
Take cared. He was always and is the person who gives a damn, which isn’t a bad quality to have. We’re just different in every single way; so how we manage to be best friends astounded me.
Except that day after school – he was going to get a lip ring that matched mine. It would be the one thing that we had in common.
“Yes, Travis Taken Thomas?” Mr. Renn called on Take.
When we were in Jr High, Take would only respond to his full name. It was before I gave him his nickname and he was going through this quirky phase where he would create experiments for people. They were harmless (well, most of them) and he always got a small pleasure every time a teacher took the time to say his full name.
He smirked. “Yes, I just wanted to comment on…” and he continued on with some deep, philosophical remark on the history of our nation.
I watched him talk – but not really listen to what he was saying – in the corner of my eye as I rested my head on my arms. I watched our peers just naturally lean toward him as he spoke like his voice was a magnet.
And he was. I truly think he was.