The Trouble with Joy

It was one of those days, you know? Where the sun isn’t shining and the clouds seem to be extra dark. Well I’ve been having a lot of those days lately; it’s almost as if the sun doesn’t like me anymore. It’s not like I’m depressed or emotional, I’ve just been a little…“cloudy” lately. I mean, I’m still happy, and I still have fun. My friends are the best people in the world it’s hard not to have fun, but sometimes I just can’t stop this feeling and I feel like today its worst of all.
“Jamie, it’s time to get up for school!” My mother yelled at me from her room.
“You don’t want to be late on your first day”, my dad followed.
Maybe I do, I thought in my head, but I got up anyways and started to get ready for another year of the rest of my life.
It’s not like I don’t like high school because I actually hate it, if not for my two best friends Jamus and Pat, I would have thrown in the towel years ago and just joined the circus. Now any psychologist or adult that forgot how high school really was would just say I am lazy and irresponsible, and I should care about bettering myself for the greater good; but let’s face it if anyone wanted to better themselves for the greater good, I am pretty sure that high school is the last place they should chose.
“Jamie, you better hurry or you’ll miss your bus.” My mother quickly told me as she gathered her things from the kitchen.
My mother was a lovely woman and nice when she wanted to be, but ever since she went back to college and finished her degree and got a job, I hardly see her at all anymore. She working or sleeping because she is so tired from working. I do mind it sometimes, I miss how we use to sit at breakfast and talk and laugh, but I’m glad for her that she got her dream and she seems happy for the most part. I just miss her.
“I won’t, mom.”
“Make sure you don’t get in any trouble, James. I don’t want a call at work on your first day at school.” My dad adds as he walks out the door.
“Yes sir” I reply, wouldn't want to give you a bad rep at work.
My dad is a different story; I don’t have anything to miss because there was never really anything there. He doesn't work nearly as much as my mother, but I think once I hit age 12 and decided I didn’t want to football and become the next Johnny Manziel; he cut himself off from me. He realized that his only son wasn’t going to be a little reincarnation of him, and my father was not one of those “I’ll accept you not matter what, son” as much as I wish he was, he wasn’t. And so there was nothing but a hello-and-goodnight relationship between my father and me, but it doesn’t bother me.
I finish my Cocoa Puffs® and brush my teeth, then head off to the bus stop. Waiting for me at the bus stop is Jamus; he’s been my best friend since kindergarten and my coffee pusher since 9th.
“Grande Vanilla blonde coffee with two sugars and one cream”, he says as he hands me the little slice of heaven.
“Thanks man, as always you are a saint given to me by the Lord God Himself.”
Jamus chuckles, blushing a little, then quickly regains his composure. “Dude”, he exclaims,” I saw your mom just drive by; she is looking extra delish today.” He winks.
I stare at him then begin to imitate vomiting motions and sounds. “That’s my mom Jam! That’s gross!”
Jamus laughs. “Chill out, James, I was just making an observation.”
“Well keep those in your head; better yet don’t think about it at all.”
I shake off the whole situation and try my best to keep them out. The bus rolls up and we meet Pat in our usually spot at the back.
“You know what’s sad? We’re seniors and we’re still taking the bus to school.” She turns to us and begins wailing on us. “WHY DON’T EITHER OF YOU HAVE A CAR?!?!?!”
“Ow, Pat that hurts!” I exclaim.
“Yeah, chica, that freakin hurts! You’re going to give us bruises.”
Pat ceases and sits back in her seat. “Sorry”, she says still sounding angry and bitter, “I just thought senior year would be a little different.”
“I know, Pat”, Jamus says in hopes to console her, “but James and I have been working all summer and we’re going to work some during the school year in hopes that we can get one by Christmas break.”
Pat turned to Jamus, her face a little brighter. “That would be cool.” She smiled.
Pat was a really sweet girl when she wanted to be. She actually didn’t start hanging out with us until half way through our freshman year. Jamus and she used to be a thing but once that crashed and burned we realized the three of us actually made a pretty fun and happy crew. Since then we’ve been three piece in a pod inseparable not matter what.
“So now that that little episode is over”, Jamus said, Pat slugged him in the arm, “who’s ready for some learning?”
“Nah”, Pat and I say in unison.
“Soooooooooooo why are we still on this God-forsaken bus?” Jamus said his eyes mischievous as ever. “It’s senior freakin’ year! We only have one more year before the world officially tells us we have to grow up and start acting like adults, might as well start it off right by skipping the first day, am I right?”
“Amen”
“I third that action”
Our high school is place in the middle of downtown surrounded by stores, restaurants, different business and many other things for three misbehaved teenagers to get into. As soon as the bus stops the three of us head to the traditional place we always go to first on a day like this (which is almost every day), the park. We laugh and run around and do childish things and for those hours with Jamus and Pat, I forgot about the clouds overhead and the fact that in my mind the sun can never rise.