I See Your Name in Lights

I reached my destination with a minute or so to spare, approaching my new teacher, trying hard to refrain myself from calling him “Mr. Clean.”

After the “you’re my student? This is where your ass goes” conversation that I was getting used to, a few more students lazily entered the room and began filling the seats. I took the opportunity to break out a notebook and scribble whatever came to my mind. I heard someone take a seat to next to me, whispering barely-audible thanks for the fact he wasn’t tardy again. I smiled to myself, slightly amused. I looked over to see who I’d be sharing my exciting trimester of econ with – recognizing him instantly.

“Well, hi!” I grimaced at him, fighting back the urge to address him by his first name when I realized that he hadn’t told me it. He shot me a goofy smile, but it soon faded as if my look had offended him. I straightened my face, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow. He bowed his head slightly. “I… I don’t remember your name.”

My heart sank a bit, much to my surprise. I usually didn’t care. I simply told him that I understood, seeing as I had to yell through the noise the bell made.

“Can I just call you ‘new kid’ then?” He joked, smile returning to brighten up his face. “Or maybe something like –”

“Jack, have you heard a word I’ve said?” He and I both spun to look up at the front of the room. The clock said a few minutes had passed, much to my surprise. It must have been the fact we were stuck in the back, much like I was in my calculus class in the beginning of the day and in the class I had came from. Jack and I shrugged simultaneously. “Pay attention, please.”

“See? He doesn’t know my name either, Jack,” I mocked him, a genuine smile sprawling across my face. “Now pay attention.”

He rolled his eyes at me, detecting my sarcasm. He leaned back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.

I had two notebooks out now, writing notes about finances that the teacher had scribbled on the board and continuing whatever it was I was writing in the other. I felt eyes on my paper and my reflex was to cover it with my notes, as if they were where I had engulfed all of my interest in.

“Is that poetry?”

“No,” I lied. “They’re notes. You know, for class. You should be taking some.”

“You didn’t look like someone who would find a romantic interest in Wall Street,” He mumbled, taken aback. “And either you like telling me no, or you like to lie.”

I pulled a face. “What do you mean?”

“You do too have an accent,” Jack chuckled.

I furrowed my eyebrows. “No, I don’t.”

“Whatever you say,” He smiled to himself, taking out a notebook of his own. I watched him as he finally put pen to paper, admiring the way he –

What was I thinking? Admire this idiot? I scoffed at myself.

After he was done being pleased with himself, Jack’s hand shot up.

“You have something to add to this?” The teacher asked, confused.

“Nope,” He stated simply.

The teacher – Mr. Truman, I believe – sighed. “The bathroom pass is on my desk.”

“He knows me too well,” Jack grinned, standing up and taking the pass. I watched as he exited the room, a bit sad to be alone again, but relieved that I could take out my journal I’d designated for my poetry that I’d eventually write into music. I scribbled down a full page before Jack returned, and I had to cover it expertly to make it look like I was merely paying attention to the teacher’s lecture. I dressed flamboyantly enough to begin with; I didn’t want the guy sitting next to me to look down on me.

I looked up at the clock – ten minutes of class left. He’d skipped maybe twenty minutes of class.

As if to spite the fact it was my first day, Mr. Truman assigned homework in an unnecessary heavy textbook that I had received with my seat. I groaned with the rest of the class as I placed a piece of paper in between the pages, to remind myself later.

I looked at the boy next to me – he didn’t even have his book with him. He scooped up the notebooks with him a minute before class ended. “Hey, wait. Where are you off to next?”

“Doesn’t really matter,” I told him. “I’m free this hour.”

“How’d you manage that?” The jealousy in his voice was thick. Of course the slacker wanted to figure out how to have an entire hour of cutting class with no consequences. I grinned.

“They call it Independent Study,” I explained. “I call it getting my homework done here and picking which lunch I want. I could’ve had it in the morning, but…”

“Any lunch you want…” Jack pondered the idea. “How would someone, say, like me get to be a part of that?”

“Do you have a good GPA?” I challenged, smirking.

“Well…”

“If they’re suspicious of you slacking they won’t let you.”

The bell rand and we stood up. I expected Jack to race off like the rest of our classmates, but he stood close to my side. “Since you can pick… you should come to second lunch.”

“I’m guessing that’s the one you’re in?”

“No, I just want you to go to that one so I can make you eat all alone like the lonely new kid you are,” I scowled at him. “Yeah, it’s mine. I’ll look for you?”

“Of course you can,” I smirked. “But only if you can guess my name.”

“Rumplestiltskin.”

I snorted, trying to stifle the loud laugh. “Good try.”

“There won’t be any bells sounding, you know,” He told me. “If you want your first friend in the school, I’m going to have to learn it anyway.”

I smiled at him. I did want a friend, even though teasing him was quickly becoming my favorite part of our budding friendship.

“It’s Alex. Don’t forget it this time.”

“Alex.” He repeated, grinning. “I won’t, I promise.”

“You have a minute until your class starts,” I warned him.

He looked over his shoulder at a digital clock lodged in the wall next to us. “Well, would you look at that?” He continued to walk next to me, even as I padded down the stairs, a few stragglers racing for the doorway. “Where will you be spending your time off?”

“I’m going to sit in the library for a while,” I decided. “Maybe I’ll go exploring at some point, as long as no one catches me.”

“Sounds like what I’ll be doing.”

“Plan on another trip to the ‘bathroom’?” I asked as the bell rang, smirking.

“Nah, I’m already on one,” He beamed triumphantly. “Mrs. Summers won’t mind if I was late because I was there already.”

“Get to class,” I chuckled. “I’ll see you at lunch, Jack.”

“Goodbye, Alex,” He over-emphasized my name, letting me know it finally sunk into his head. “I count the minutes.”

I snickered at his comment, waving politely as he spun on his heel to go the opposite direction. I watched him go, taking his time. He looked back for a moment, and quickly I whirled to make it look as if I had been going about my business. I looked back at him casually, shooting him a friendly glance. He returned it; stumbled over his old chuck taylors as he continued walking, and shook himself off.