At Least Out Loud

So, school sucked as always aside from the classes with Wes in them. Having a best friend in class always makes life better.

Today in science we had a substitute teacher so of course none of the work assigned was completed. Instead Wes and I talked about what I could possibly get for my birthday and played tic-tac-toe, and MASH. Wes was my husband three out of four times.

“So how I see it,’ I began, “is that you’re gonna be my husband, we’re gonna have either five, six, or two kids, live in an apartment or a shack and have three pets.” What a life, I thought to myself.

“I assume we’ll have all of this because Seven Story Fall is going to make it big and I’ll become famous.” He said this with a cocky grin on his face, and then continued. “Two of the kids will be our own, and to make it five or six we can adopt. We’ll live in a shack and/or apartment because we’re humble people who don’t like to flaunt their wealth… and are secretly saving up for something much better than a mansion.” he finished with a delighted smile on his face.

“You’ve got it all summed up, I think. Except you forgot to mention when I marry Mr. Raymond Clark.” I said leaning forward as if to taunt him with the name. His smile turned to a frown. I know Wes didn’t think much of him, but Ray was pretty nice. To me anyway.

“Well, if that unfortunate event happens…”, he paused looking at the one time he had lost to Ray on the paper now on his desk, “you will have… two kids, a mansion, and five pets. How dreamy.” He turned around in his chair and pretended to gag.

The next period was uneventful, mainly because of the subject, math. Wes has history that period, and I share math with Ryan McManus. Remember how I said having a best friend in a class makes life better? Yea, scratch that for this period.

Ryan pays no attention and has no idea what is going on. He’s either playing air guitar to one of his favorite songs blaring from the ear buds in his ears, or sleeping. Today his choice was sleeping. I swear, if I didn’t take good notes this kid wouldn’t survive this class.

.”Now, what is the equation for sine in terms of right triangle trigonometry?” asked Mr. Bolen. We were reviewing for the chapter 4 test we were taking tomorrow; one that I will have to shove into Ryan’s head through his earsno doubt coming right out the other later at band practice.

“Opposite over hypotenuse.” the class answered unenthused. Mr. Bolen went on to ask what the exact value of the sine of thirty was and the class responded with the answer I didn’t know, so I scribbled it down.

Mr. Bolen then went on to tell the story of how they used to have to look up the exact value in charts in the back of the room and how a calculator was the size of a room and so on and so on about ‘back in his day’. This took up the rest of the period as per usual.

On the way to lunch I had a few girls from various classes come up and wish me happy birthday. It kind of bothered me that the boys forgot my birthday. I mean, I had known them forever and I knew all of their birthdays! I guess it’s a girl thing to remember such events. I sighed to myself and continued my way toward the cafeteria.

After standing in the lunch line for whatever we dared to eat today, we all sat down together and they talked about what they needed to work on at practice. Wes was going over what order things should be worked on like he was the head of the gang. Who am I kidding? He practically was the leader. He always had a schedule; what they’re going to do at practice, how long a trip was going to take and approximately how many bathroom breaks would be taken while traveling on tour, what they should eat in order to get the most energy.

As a matter of fact, he always had everything figured out.

His life was planned out like any other day. He would be a drummer and if, emphasis on the if, if he ever got tired of that, well, that part I don’t think is quite figured out yet. But he would get some type of degree through an online college. That way if anything ever happened to the band, he had a degree under his belt. The other hand to them breaking up for whatever reason would be to join another band. He also planned that, again, if anything ever happened they would all remain friends, him, Mike, Ryan, T.J., and Justin. Because unlike some bands, they practiced what they preached.

If all good things must come to an end, the end is the part where we start again.

And I’m sure they would. We all would. We were best buds to the end, hoping that the end wasn’t 2012 of course.

After lunch was English and thankfully Wes was in this class as well. We were studying Macbeth.

“Dude, talk about crazy. Lady Macbeth can’t even keep it together and she’s yelling at her husband. Talk about a hypocrite!” Wes said. He stood up and ran his hand downwards over his face so his muscles relaxed, as if her were to move his hand back up again and change the emotion on his face.

“Out, damn'd spot! out, I say! One; two: why, then 'tis time to do't.—Hell is murky. Fie, my lord, fie, a soldier, and afeard? What need we fear who knows it, when none can call our pow'r to accompt?—Yet who would have thought the old man to have had so much blood in him?”

His voice had reached a pitch I did not recognize from him and it was rather girly in tone.

“Mr. Moore…” Mrs. Dukemend said loudly.

“Great, here’s another detention…” Wes whispered to me as he turned to see Mrs. Dukemend.

“What exactly were you just saying?’

“I was just reviewing Lady Macbeth’s “spot” speech. Won’t happen again. I pro-“

“No. Really, it was quite brilliant. I dare you say it again in the front of the class.” Wes turned to me in disbelief giving me the face of confusion. “I really wish you would. It truly was spectacular. Rickie, you play the Gentlewoman, and Bowman you play the doctor. Hurry! To the front of the class!” Now I gave him the look in return.

We rehearsed it, but it wasn’t nearly as brilliant as it had first been said, but it was said to our discomfort nonetheless. Richard Bowman read quickly like he was trying to beat out a timer. I stuttered a bit, and Wes was slightly less theatrical and read almost as fast Richard.

I always found that particular about him. He could perform in front of hundreds, but when it came to reading a script in front a 25 person class he clamed up. Some things just don’t make sense.

Well I suppose I have no say in that either. I can’t sing in front of anyone but myself, and those who have heard me did so without my knowing; Wes being one of the few. He says I’m good. Great even compared to Mike, and to me that’s quite a compliment considering Mike Hart’s voice could melt an angel’s heart; so melodic and charming. But I will still not sing on purpose in front of everyone. Ever.

The rest of my classes came and left with the occasional “Happy Birthday”. I told one girl how old I was turning, and she asked me if I could buy her a pack of cigarettes. Fat chance. If I ever smoked it would be my ashes after I was burned to death. Never will a cigarette touch my lips. No sir-ee.

As I sat in study hall, I thought about what I should get Wes for his birthday tomorrow. I don’t think anything can top the first copy of their new EP The Getaway…

New drumsticks? Naw… too original. The ice cream cones labeled Drumsticks! No… too lame. I have no idea. I have no idea what to get my best friend for his birthday. Wow I’m horrible.

Maybe I’ll ask the guys what he wants. Yeah, I’ll do that. They should know, or maybe they will forget his birthday too.

“Hey Rickie.’ A lovely voice said behind me. The voice that could only belong to the one and only Raymond Clark. He was basically the number one eye candy around school.

Now normally I don’t fall for the guy that most girls are obsessed with, but this time the female society hit the nail on the head. He had everything; the height where a girl had to reach on her tippy toes to give him a kiss, the arms that a girl would die to have around her, the personality to coax a communist into thinking a democracy was the perfect way to go. Everything.

And me? I was a nobody. I never understood why he even acknowledged me.

“Have room to seat one more at this table?” his angelic voice asked.

“Uhh-uhh yeah. Let me –um- just move my –uh- junk.” I can’t believe I stuttered. I’m such a loser!

“I heard it was your birthday, so I wanted to wish you a happy one in person.” As he said this he looked right into my eyes. I swear a soul could melt in that gaze. He turned to get his backpack off the floor and took what seemed like a piece of paper out.

“Oh, well thanks. Finally eighteen…” I said, slowly composing myself. He handed me the paper which I now realized was a card. I opened it and it said some unoriginal saying like “ I hope all your dreams and wishes come true on your special birthday.”

“Sorry it’s so cheesy,” he said reading my expression, “I only heard this morning, and I didn’t have the time to pick out a heart felt one.”

“Oh really, there’s no need. I really like it.” I said almost immediately with a wide grin on my face.

“I was, uh, wondering if I could maybe take you out to lunch after school. You know for your birthday n’ all.” He, Raymond Clark, stuttered. Stuttered asking me, Rickie Dee McKay, out to lunch. Talk about a first for everything, that’s two things in a matter of seconds!

The possibilities raced through my head; where we could go, the drive there, the soothing conversation made over quickly made hamburgers, the long drive to my house, the- CRAP!

Band practice.

Who knew that it would ever come to where band practice was ever put into a negative light? Plus I had to help Ryan study or he wouldn’t pass the class for sure. Dangit!

“Uh, I can’t. I’m real sorry. I’ve got to go to Wes and the band’s practice. I haven’t missed one yet, you see… Gah, I’m really sorry though. Thanks for the invite.” It was all said with a sad sorry on my face, and I hoped my sincerity showed in my voice as well.

“Oh yea. Them. Um, it’s okay. Some other time then?” He sounded so disappointed!

“Yeah! Definitely.” I said with a half smile. The bell rang signaling the end of the school day. I gathered my stuff off the table and put it in my black and white checkered back pack. “I’ll see you later then?”

“Um, yea.” I nodded my head and began to walk away, but he called my name. “How about Friday night. You, me and a movie?”

A smile spread wide across my face. “Sure! Umm seven okay with you?”

He nodded and kissed me on the cheek. “Happy Birthday” he said.

“Yes in deed, happy birthday to me.” I said to myself as I walked away.