Back To The Streets

I woke up to feel the sun on my face, and before I even opened my eyes, I felt like today was going to be a good day. I dragged myself out of my bed, and waltzed over to my dresser. I thought, not bad for 4 hours of sleep.I fixed my long brown bangs in the mirror and threw on a pair of jeans. Before leaving my room, I checked to see if the t-shirt I slept in was okay to wear in public. I flew down the stairs and was greeted by my mother.

"Good morning my dearest daughter," my mother cooed. I knew she wanted something right away.

"Try only daughter," I muttered under my breath. "Yes mother? What is it that you want?" I said loud and cheerful enough our neighbors could hear, if we had any of course. You see, we live in an old firehouse in the middle of a lonely town on the far outskirts of Las Vegas. But, I do enjoy going to school in the Vegas suburbs. Enough dilly-dallying, I'll get into that later.

"Oh I was just wondering if you could run these back to Pete," she said as she handed me a giant stack of old-timey CDs, with huge grin on her face. Pete is the man who runs the indie music store in town, and he is the man my mother has been crushing on ever since my dad left.

"Oh, terrific. Just what I want. To be your love puppet for the rest of my life. You should really just pounce on him before he's gone, even though that will never happen. I hear it's all the rage with the youth these days." I laughed at my own humor.

"Oh, stop it. Just do it this one last time. I'll buy you that car you've been wanting." she half-heartedly bargained.

"And that will never happen either," I said using my always sarcastic wit.

"Be quiet. Go to school. Take my car if you want. Just remember to fill it up before you get home." she said, and with that she shoved me out the door.

I hopped in her Porsche Cayenne. Her car is what some would call outrageous or impractical, I just called it "Bess the Mid-Life Crisis". Sort of a self get-well present for my mom after the divorce. I turned the key and revved the engine. "Remember, this is going to be a good day," I thought to myself. I turned the corner towards town, cranked up the radio, and before long I had arrived at Clint's house. I found both Mille and Clint standing on his porch, obviously in the middle of an intense staring contest.

"Clint, you lose. Millie, you win. Come now. We are going to be late." I half-screamed from the car.

"Why fancy meeting you here Ms. Graham," Clint said with a chuckle, "By the way I never lose, I totally won that staring contest." Ah. How I love this kid. Not like lusty love, just appreciation, I'm-glad-you're-alive love. We've known eachother since forever, and I've known for just about as long that he is gay.

"No way mister. I totally commanded that contest. I won." Millie said with a devilish grin on her face. Millie has been my best friend since she moved here right after my dad left. That was the year Clint spent in London with his grandparents. We clicked right away, and she eventually warmed up to Clint's A-type personality.

"We shall agree to disagree. It was a draw." I said, trying to settle the dispute. By that time we had pulled up to our school. An interesting melting pot of people. It was mostly known for the fine arts. Everyone that goes there is somewhat artistically talented, so there are special programs to nurture those talents. I am partial to music, guitar and cello in particular. Clint is a fashion student, and Millie is our resident artist. She makes all of the school's art.
I found a parking space in the row closest to the school. What we like to call "front row seats". We got out of the car, and I listened for the beep of the car locking. We walked towards the school while everyone else was rushing to go to their first hour classes, which were the special classes.

We walked inside the school, and began to part ways. "Meet here next passing period?" Millie called as she walked away, even though it was pretty much implied. Seeing as how, we did it everyday, yet she still felt the need to say it everyday.

I walked into room 154. Music. I took my seat next to my guitar, which was stored in it's case on it's stand next to my favorite seat. Soon, I noticed that no one else was filling in, and Mr. Polares was no where to be found. "That's odd," I thought to myself. Suddenly, my phone buzzed to life in my pocket. I opened to see a text from Millie that read: "We've got a free period! The teachers are in a meeting! Want to go meet out by the oak tree?"

It finally dawned on me that Mr. Polares was not coming, just like Millie's teacher. Being his forgetful self, Mr. Polares probably forgot to tell us about this meeting. I texted Millie back: "Alright make sure you grab Clint. See you in a few."

I rose from my seat, and headed outside to the old oak tree that has provided Millie, Clint, and myself a place to hangout for the previous three years. As I felt the warm breeze brush my cheeks, I thought, I knew this was going to be a good day.