The Trouble with Joy

If you haven’t already noticed, skipping school was a regular thing for us; it was actually attending school that was a rarity. We aren’t stupid or anything though; we’re actually pretty smart for our age. I read a lot and I mean a lot and not just teen fictions but also classics and sometimes even text books (but those are mostly to help me sleep), and Jamus, he researches a lot of things, so anything he’s learned is not thanks to his teachers but the internet; also, Jamus is a hands-on kind of guy so anything science like that he researches he then puts it in to practice whether by taking things apart or creating something or blowing something up, he’s like our own personal Jimmy Neutron. Pat now it’s needless to say that she is the smartest and wisest out of the group, I think that I read a lot, but she reads even more than I do and more things than I do, if she isn’t sleeping, eating or doing stupid stuff with Jamus and I then she’s reading; put she also takes online college courses FOR FUN! I know it’s weird, but she’s still our friend, I’m kidding, if it wasn’t for her Jamus and I would be a lot worse off than we are now.
“What did you get? It looks like some cow had indigestion and relived it’s self on your plate?” Jamus asked examining Pat’s plate. We had stopped at a restaurant, it was our goal in life to visit a new eating place at least once a week, but now we were beginning to run out of places in our city so we were left with the one we had saved for last, needless to say we had not saved the best for last.
“It’s grilled tofu with humus salad”, Pat replied. She was a vegetarian, don’t know why, but it was always a science experiment to see what she was going to eat next.
We had stopped at a hippie vegan place several blocks away from our school. The place was called, The Paradise Green, Jamus and I were really wary about going here but Pat was all too ecstatic to try a venue that she said finally fit her needs. She was correct, of course, for the past few weeks Jamus and I had been pigging out at burger joints while Pat sat with us eating her salad or bringing her homemade PB&J’s. We figured it was her turn to pig out while Jamus and I sat back and nibbled on our veggie burger and burrito.
“James, that girl over there hasn’t stopped looking at you since she walked in.” Jamus said.
Pat and I both turned to see what girl he was talking about, of course I thought he was exaggerating, but he was not. There was a girl a couple tables down just staring dead-eyed at me; I would have thought it super creepy if the girl wasn’t so amazingly hot. She was wearing a black tank-top and a very appealing pair of blue jean shorts. She had tanned skin and a beautiful pair of light brown eyes, but what really caught me was her hair, it was long, almost to the middle of her back, with bright red and white bangs and the tips were the same way. If it were not for her ecofriendly hiking boots you would have thought she just came out of an indie punk rock video. But there was something about her that seemed weird, I couldn’t yet put my finger on it, but it was giving me the chills.
When I realized she wasn’t going to turn away any time soon I did the only other natural thing, I waved at her.
Jamus face palmed and shook his head, “Bad, bad, bad idea, Jamie.”
He was right because as soon as I waved my hand, the girl smiled and stood up and began to walk over to our table.
Crap, crap. “What do I do?” I panicked.
Pat rolled her eyes. “Well first off calm down, secondly stand and introduce yourself.”
I took a deep breath and stood up right as the girl arrived at our table. “Hi”. I said trying to hide the nervousness in my voice because believe it or not as much of a stud as I was, girls don’t do this that often.
“Hi”, she smiled perfectly; it almost seemed as if her smile was mischievous. “My name is Pyro, I’m sorry I was staring at you, it’s just I was too scared to come talk to you so I was hoping you would notice me.”
Wow! “I don’t mind”, I giggled, “My name is…um…”
“James”, Pat muttered.
“Yes, James”, I tried to recover.
Out of the corner of my eye I could see Jamus glaring wondering how a babe such as her would even talk to me, I didn’t want to make it obvious but I was wondering the same thing.
Pyro found it amusing at the fact that I was struggling greatly, “It’s nice to meet you, James. I didn’t want to interrupt your lunch with your friends, but I at least had to come over and give you my number.” She handed me a napkin with her number written on it in red lipstick.
I blushed and took the napkin still not sure if this was really happening, “Thanks, I’ll be sure to use it.”
“Okay”, she smiled. “I’ll see you around then.”
“Okay”. I smiled my eyes in a dreamy state as I watched her walk out the door. And I wasn’t sure but for a split second it appeared as if whenever she walked into the sun her body was engulfed in flames, but as soon as I thought I saw that, Pyro was back to her normal sexy self. I must need caffeine, I thought.

When I got home, no one was there, not to my surprise. I walked up to my room and plopped down on the bed and pulled the napkin out of my pocket.
“Are you going to call her?” Pat had asked at the restaurant.
“I don’t know”, I answered.
It would be a sin not to call her, but still there was something about her that almost made me think that maybe she was not as amazing as she seemed. I shrugged off the thought and placed the napkin in my nightstand drawer, either way I wasn’t supposed to call her at least until tomorrow night, I didn’t want to appear desperate even though I really was.
I reached over and grabbed my copy of Dante’s Inferno, and began to let my mind drift. My dad would be home in about an hour so I had until then until chaos struck the house.
Sure reading made you smart, but I didn’t read to become smart. I read because it was my escape. If I was having a bad day or I was feeling depressed, I would always go to my books. I could always escape into the store, the deeper the better. I learned at a young age that no matter the story I could always rely on my books to take me away, no matter the situation.
An hour passed and I heard the front door slam shut. “James, your ass better have a good excuse for today!” My dad pounded up the stairs.
I got off my bed and began to grab my things, backpack, book, phone and laptop, I walked over to my window and opened it, nice night for a bike ride, I thought. I had gotten one leg out of the window before I felt an incredible force grip me and pull me slamming me on my bed.
“One thing! That’s all I asked for!” My father bellowed.
I should have been panicking, but I was too used to this already. My father was a large man, 6’5” All American football player in high school but once he got married his gut grew in but unfortunately for me his muscles never moved out.
He slammed one fist against the left side of my face making me slam harder into the bed. My dad grabbed me by my shirt collar and hit my left cheek again. That’s going to bruise I thought.
“I should have known one day of actually being worth something was too much for you!” He grabbed me again this time by the throat and punched me in the stomach knocking the wind out of me. He released his hold, letting me fall on the bed.
He turned to walk out of the door but not without adding, “You’re lucky you have one year left because if not for your mother, I would have kicked your ass out long time ago.”
He slammed the door shut leaving me to perform the usual ritual of attending to my wounds because that’s how it was and that’s how it will always be.