Eleven Confessions

Confession #2: Everything reminds me of my dad. Some days, it only adds to the pain, but most days, it’s what keeps me going. That way, I can pretend he’s still here.

A few cheesy poems about sappy love or how much school sucked later, the bell rang, a loud shrill sound, signaling the start of yet another headache.

I gathered my supplies, and rushed from class. I liked to be the first in the hallway. My school wasn’t the biggest, but it still wasn’t fun having to push through the other prisoners.

“Hey, Skei, wait!” A voice called from behind me.

I broke into a run, my eyes targeting my locker at the other end of the hall… “Skei…”

When I got to my locker, I tried to slow down, but, as if the whole world stopped one heart beat ahead of me, I slammed into my locker, falling to the ground with a thud, my stuff scattering around me. I heard a few people stifle laughs, as someone kneeled down and helped me pick my stuff up.

“It’s Skei… right?” He asked, as I looked up at him. Puzzled, I scooted back away from him. I knew every guy in this town, and he wasn’t one of them. That and his crazy bug eyed glasses. He had on a pair of skinny jeans, old beaten up converse, and an old ACDC t-shirt that was a faded grey color, and big, black-rimmed glasses, like those over-sized 3D ones that you get at the movie theatre with the lenses popped out.

“Nice shades”, I remarked.

He smiled, stunning me with how white his teeth were up against his just shy of sun-kissed skin, that illuminated his shinning (yes, shinning) blue eyes. I couldn’t get passed those eyes. I admit, I’ve always been a victim of beautiful eyes, but these took beautiful to a whole new level…

“Thanks”, he shrugged as if everybody wore such redonkulous glasses, “I’m new. I wanted to make a statement.”

“Statement made” I giggled, turning a little more that tomato red behind my black hair.

He stood, up, handing me back my library books, “I’m Tate, and I thought your poem was awesome. I just wanted to tell you not to get discouraged. It takes real appreciation of the arts to recognize true talent. I thought it was really moving.”

I looked at him, directly into his eyes, because really, I couldn’t stop myself. “Thanks…” I think.

He nodded, “Your welcome”, as if he had just done some charity project, and then bounded away, leaving me speechless and hating myself.

Dang it! How could I be such a girl? That guy probably has absolutely no interest in me. He was just mocking me!

I could hear my dad’s voice in the back of my head, telling me to man up.