Jessie McMillion and a Small Town Revolution

The next morning, Jessie didn't wake up to his mother calling his name, or Hannah crying. It was peaceful. He'd almost forgotten what peace was like at 7 AM.
He hadn't orchestrated a follow up prank from the duct taped ceiling. The childish gags on Hannah were getting kind of pointless considering he really didn't like having his phone taken away, and honestly didn't mind when his little sister borrowed his skateboard so long as she put it back.

Jessie put his hair in a bun today for school. He slid in to some cargo shorts and a black neff tank top and grabbed his bag.
Roland was outside of the McMillion's house, as if he was waiting for Jessie. This was urgent, but not in a bad way. He could tell because Roland was smiling- actually, he wasn't just smiling. Roland was grinning.
"The tarot card reader, bro." Roland started before Jessie could ask why he was so eager to talk to him, so early in the morning "I got the job at Wednesday's Pizza."

Jessie and Roland spent the rest of their free morning talking about all the money Roland would have to spend on new skateboard parts and hanging out at Destiny's Circle.
That day Jessie had his odd schedule, which meant his favorite classes and he saw Syd first thing in the morning. Jessie walked in to his creative writing class and saw her sitting in a new seat -the seat next to his.
"Good morning Jessiah." Syd said. Nobody but teachers and his mom called him that. "I was disappointed to see I never recieved a call from you. You know, math partners aren truly there so that Pastor can put the students she thinks should date together and play God."
Jessie set his backpack down next to his seat and took out his creative writing notebook.
"I was in the city with Roland last night. We got our tarot cards read."
Syd giggled at him.
"What's so funny?" Jessie wanted to know.
"You went out on a date with your best friend for sandwiches and pseudoscience?" Syd was still laughing.
"Well you can call it pseudoscience all you want, but if I'm actually getting laid by a pretty girl with brown hair wearing a pink dress-" this was referring to Syd entirely, of course- "like she said, than I'm spending the rest of my life in that tarot cafe."
Syd started to work on the warm up on the front board, pretending she didn't notice.
"I couldn't have called anyways, my mom took my phone away. Although.." Jessie slid his hand on to the small of Syd's back and leaned from his seat over to her ear, "I could find a way to get it back, if, I was promised a late night phone call from the mysterious girl the tarot reader promised."
Syd looked up, and examined Jessie's face. He was the king of this game. Cat and mouse was everything he was capable of, and nothing other girls ever let him drag out. He was almost positive that Syd was as committed to this as he was. His guess would be correct.
She whispered back, "the iii of swords says the mystery girl will be in tinky bell pajama pants and a lacy black bralette tonight with an avocado face mask waiting patiently for her cell phone to ring."

The warm up was about what they would do with a gun in this very moment. Syd had a full two page response that Jessie could see, but when Mrs.Appleman, the writing coach, called on her, she simply said, "I would point it at the wall and aim for the window." Upon Mrs.Appleman asking why, she followed up with "Because, I always aim to surprise. The kill comes later, when you realize the broken glass from the window has been lodged in a place you couldn't feel for hours, and you're bleeding out." The class was silenced.
Jessie was the least scared of the group, and quite obviously the most impressed.

The rest of the school day was a blur.
Jessie spent the following hour after arriving home cleaning this house, in hopes his mom would give him phone privileges again.

"Jessiah.. I am impressed." Mrs.McMillion exclaimed as she walked in the door and saw Jessie mopping the kitchen. He was a muscular teenage Cinderella in her eyes.
He gave her a childish grin and did the universal 'phone' motion with his hand. You know the pinky and thumb shakey hand motion.
His mother's face dropped.
"Of course you weren't mopping to be a nice son, that would be ridiculous." She reached in her purse and grabbed his phone.
"Did you vacuum the stairs?" Jessie nodded as he grabbed his phone and stomped up to his room excitedly.
Mrs.McMillion shook her head and felt the wet kitchen floor.

Jessie practically threw open his math notes to get Syd's number where she'd written it down.
It took two rings before she answered.
"Hey," Syd said casually. "Math questions?" She asked.
"Afraid not," Jessie responded, "Just wanted to talk to my tarot dream girl."
"Oh then I guess I'll hand the phone over to my pet poodle, Simon."
Jessie flopped down on his bed and put the phone on speaker, resting it on his chest.
He was imagining Syd in her room. She was most likely in the outfit she promised.. He really only focused on the lacy bralette she described.
Wait..
"You have an iPhone." Jessie stated matter o' factly.
"Really? I hadn't noticed."
Jessie chuckled.
"No," he pushed a strand of curly hair hanging out of his man bun, "I meant like, you have an iPhone.. So why aren't we facetiming?"
The call ended.

Not even 15 seconds later, his phone was ringing again for a FaceTime call.
Syd wasn't wearing an avocado face mask, and he didn't couldn't see any of the mentioned tinker bell pants. However, the bralette was in place. Black, tight, and lacy as promised. It exposed her belly button, and could almost pass as a crop top. Scandalous...
Jessie didn't mind.

He was quiet for a moment. Stunned, really. She was a goddess in his eyes.
Syd broke the silence first.
"Is that.. A painting of a cat on a unicorn on your wall?"
Jessie turned to see one of the water colors he did in art class last year.
"Yeah, actually. My mom thought it was something a kindergartener could do."
Syd smiled.
"I think it's cool. Can you draw me something?"

Jessie got the sketch book he used for class and his colored pencils.
"Anything?" He asked.
"Anything." She confirmed.
Jessie quickly got to drawing.
He got self conscious every few seconds and would look up at his phone, resting on his bed frame, just to make sure Syd was paying attention.
She was paying attention. She watched Jessie draw like she was watching the news during a natural disaster.
She was very serious, and enthralled in what was going on on the other side of the screen.

Jessie had drawn her broken glass, with a bullet going through it.
Syd was speachless.
This time, Jessie broke the silence.
"I aim to surprise sometimes too, you know."

The rest of the night they stayed on FaceTime. Sydnie introduced him to her poodle that she mentioned earlier. Jessie showed her around his room on a virtual tour, and showed of his skateboard, and his old hockey trophies from when he was little.

"If you were so good at hockey, why are you in art and writing and stuff now?" Syd asked.
Jessie shrugged.
"I actually only did hockey because my dad wanted me to. He grew up in Canada, so it was a big thing for him. When I was 8 he said if I did a year of hockey he's get me my first skateboard. I just continued with it until I was 11 because I saw how happy it made him to see me win games. That happiness ended pretty quick. He had pancreatic cancer that had gone undetected for a while. He died within that year. I didn't rejoin hockey the next season. My mom told me I shouldn't if I didn't want to, and dad would just want me to be happy with whatever I was doing, even if it wasn't hockey anymore. I guess that just became art in middle school, and then carried in to now."
Syd was quiet for a moment.
Jessie moved back to his bed with his phone.
"I'm sure your dad would love your art." She said.
"So am I." Jessie agreed.
Conversation started to pick up again after that.

By 4 AM Sydnie began to yawn between every word.
"I think I'm gonna go to sleep.." Syd whispered. She was in bed now under the covers, looking close at the phone screen.
"I don't wanna.." She whispered softly, in a sleep deprived voice, that still somehow carried her velvet tone that made Jessie melt.
"You need your sleep," Jessie pushed, even though he didn't want her to either.
"Goodnight, glass queen." He said.
"Goodnight, artist boy." Syd responded.
The call ended.

The next day Jessie didn't go to school. He went to the local ice rink, which was empty except for the old asian man who worked the ice cleaning machine.

Jessie grabbed his dad's old ice skates out of his bag, and then grabbed the puck and stick.
This time, being on the ice was comforting, and not forced.
Nostalgia was weird that way.