Lessons Learned I

It was the second week of January when we all returned. It felt good to be back with everyone. That, and my family drove me up the wall...

Alex and I were in the library, trying to study for an up-coming history test when his attention seemed to drift off elsewhere.

"Maybe I could try being emo... Surely she'd notice the scars," he mumbled, twirling his pencil between his middle and index fingers.

"She hates emos," I said, shutting a thick, musty book.

"Bleh..."

Three preppy girls ran past us as if Satan was about to unleash his monthly attacks on them. We watched them flock around a few guys in leather jackets and boots. I looked a little closer and saw the anarchy symbol on the back of one of their jackets.

"What the?" Alex stared after them.

"The frickin' anarchists," I mumbled wrly. "Frickin' anti-everything practically."

"And those girls LOVE it!"

I slowly looked at him.

"Please tell me you're not gonna be an anarchist..."

"Rachel seems to be a little bit of one herself..." He had one of those looks on his face.

"No, Alex, no..."

"Ohh, yes," he chuckled. "I'm gonna be an anarchist."

Here we go again.