Book-Sack

Tyler, Aaron, The Other John, and I had been sitting in front of the first hundred hall for about ten minutes when John's bus finally arrived. He walked up to us with a grin on his face, and we didn't realize what he was laughing about until he spun around and showed us his bag, his "book-sack" as we called it.

There, plastered across the back of his bag, was Batman.

We lost it. Tyler was nearly rolling on the ground laughing, Aaron and The Other John looked as though they were having a seizure, and I was almost in tears. Not only did he have Batman on his book-sack, but it looked so small on him you would have thought he borrowed it from a second grader. It wasn't a new-age type Batman, either, it was like an old overly-cartoonized version. It was great.

We couldn't control ourselves even as we walked to the cafeteria for breakfast. We got our food and sat down at one of the smaller tables off to the side of the room.

"I'm only doing this for my own amusement, really," he said, grinning, when I put my things down by his. "I don't care what everyone else says. They're either going to think it's funny or that I'm a fool."

"I think it's the best idea ever," I said. "Everyone's gonna love it, Tyler and Aaron were dying. It's hilarious."

He wore the book-sack all week long. I don't think he has any intention of stopping, either.

Phone Calls, Love Letters, Screamo

After we had been going out for a few weeks, John and I decided that we didn't have nearly enough time together. We started talking on the phone everyday after school. The conversations could last for a very long time, hours on most days.

I felt so blissful whenever I was with him, and when I wasn't, I would simply look forward to the next time I saw him. I couldn't think about John without smiling, sometimes even laughing if something funny he had said came to mind. I got plenty of wierd looks from this, but I didn't care, not one bit. Everything was so good. Nothing could touch me.

We started writing notes as well. He would write one at home and give it to me before first block, and I would read it and write back by lunch. The notes were full of kind words, things any sane person would probably fall into fits of hysteria reading, but they meant the world to me. Everything he said meant the world to me. It was grand.

Whenever we talked on the phone, he always played music in the background. It was usually screamo. Now, I'm not the biggest screamo fan in the world, but it didn't matter in the slightest what we listened to. He could have played Bon Jovi for all I cared. I was having the time of my life, just talking to him.

Everything was fantastic. If anyone bothered me, I didn't mind half as much. I reminded myself to be patient with people, I felt like I had more self-control. I felt better about myself. I felt darned good.

Life had suddenly become a little bit nicer.