A Search for Paradise

If there's one thing I learned from going through twelve years of school it’s that people are different outside of school, than when they escape the confines of the tall brick walls, both physical and metaphorical. You make friends at school, but sometimes occasionally it’s under false pretenses; pretending to be somebody else, so they won't think "What a giant fucking jackass?" There will always be those people with spiked hair and leather jackets that claim that they don't care about anybody's opinion that they do what they want. They get suspended all the time, and smoke things other than weed. But deep down, they do care, they really do. It's a loaded topic; the societal need for acceptance that is, because it’s subconscious I guess.

I really didn't realize that until twelfth grade when I went to my first high school party, maybe I'd gotten my hopes up that I'd somehow turn into a social butterfly and talk to everyone and make new friends. In retrospect I realize that was stupid, I should've known I'd end up just staring at my drink, avoiding eye contact arguing with myself about whether I was in fact drunk or if I was just telling myself that I was. I got so far into my own mind that I didn't realize that I wasn't alone in my little corner anymore, and when I did notice I jumped. I'd like to say it was subtle and cute, but I know I looked like I'd caught some sort of Holy Spirit. I relaxed upon realizing who it was, I didn't really know him. I'd seen him at school and I'd heard he was kind of crazy; the type of guy that gets locked up right out of high school for some heinous torture/cannibalism, and from what I'd seen at school I'd formed the same opinion about him, "I think I know you," he said. It was partially true; I'd spoke few words to him when he'd sat at my lunch table to talk to a mutual friend of ours. "Yeah, from lunch, Phoenix right?" I said with a lopsided grin. Well at least it felt lopsided to me.

He smiled back, chuckling a bit and rubbing his hand over his face, "That's not my real name. It's Noah," he informed me. "Why do you go by Phoenix?" I pried even further. Maybe I was a bit nosey; maybe it was stupid for me to even ask him about it. What if he had some dark past like his parents died and he couldn't bear being called by his real name. My mental rambling was cut short by Noah, "I don’t know, just some name my friends gave me a long time ago," he shrugged, I nodded. "I'm sorry for being such an asshole at school," Noah apologized. I wasn't even really sure why he was saying that. Yeah, I'd thought he was a bit crazy and unrefined when I had spoke with him. I wouldn't say he was an asshole though. I should've said something like ‘You're not an asshole' or 'Its cool, I'm an asshole too,' but I couldn't form words. So I nodded which probably came across as me agreeing that he was an asshole, but it was too late for me to fix that.

Silence fell over us like a heavy blanket that was slowly ripping away the life of our conversation, if it could even be called that, the silence wasn't near as uncomfortable as it would've been if I were sober. I decided to focus on my feet, kicking them and then catching them on the stool I was sitting on. Maybe deep down I wanted Noah to say something else and continue the conversation but he didn't. Eventually he walked away leaving me to scold myself for being a dope. I didn't move the rest of the night, aside from taking another shot of whatever was on the counter at the time. My eyes kept finding their way to Noah. He wasn't particularly social, but I noted that he spoke to a few people, and a few times his eyes found me. Maybe if I was sober I'd look down and play it off, but since I wasn't sober, my eyes just widened like I was in some sort of romantic movie, and I'd just found my soul mate. He'd always smile and then go about what he was doing. Call it the booze, but his smile was making my heart beat a little faster, it took up his whole face in an adorable way. His teeth were too big for his mouth and I'm not sure where my mentality got messed up, but by the end of the night I wished he's ask me to go home with him. Of course that didn't happen, it never did, not that I'm complaining.