Ever since our lips divorced, all of the things I loved about you still remained in pristine condition. My breath is stained with your cinnamon-tasting breath, my hair is still held by your hand, and the words I wish I never said remain in your heart, forever present yet forever forgotten.
It was Thursday morning, September 16, 2021. The morning dew painted my window as if it were tiny bubbles trapping me under the surface only allowing sunlight to fluctuate through them. I grab my sheets and yawn, morphing my jaw into an ugly shape. I let go and took a step on the lukewarm wooden floors and began trotting down the steps to the smell of pancakes, bacon, and eggs as well as the sound of the 6 o clock news. Each step has a distinct creek that I had memorized from sneaking down the stairs on quiet summer nights whenever my friends and I would have sleepovers.
"Hey baby, how did you sleep?" my mom asks me as she shops online for her millionth purse. I walk over and give her a kiss on the cheek and grab a plate.
"It was good, just a little tired," I respond while stacking on my second pancake.
"You'll wake up eventually, sweetie," she responds in an oddly supportive voice. My dad walks in, still wearing his night clothes.
"Hey, kiddo!" He says, pulling me in for a hug and kissing my forehead.
"Morning, Dad!" I say squeeze back. We all sit down and begin to say a prayer. For our household, it was essential to begin every meal with a prayer, whatever it might be. I religiously cut my pancakes into fours, like a personal pan pizza. I devour my food into sections. First is eggs, then pancakes, and finally my favorite bacon. Once we all finished breakfast I grab a glass of orange juice. My dad once again bought extra pulp. My mom was not pleased with this revelation, and they begin bickering. Whenever this happens, which is often, I'd retreat to my room and get ready for the day. I looked around my room frantically because I'd stayed up so late last night that I forgot to pick out my first day of school clothes, which are arguably the most important clothes to wear to school. But I had a feeling no one really cared about that this year. So I threw on a wife-beater, a green hoodie, baggy jeans, and white Converses I had worn since last year.
My dad worked at my school as the head basketball coach. We'd drive every day to my high school when I was younger to practice. I hated basketball though, I couldn't dribble, shoot, or layup. We walked to the blue Impala that my dad had ever since I was in fifth grade. As I open the passenger side door, condensation slides down the window of the car. I crawl inside, throw my bag into the backseat of the car, and slowly begin to doze off as my dad starts up the car. He takes off and I completely blackout, and shortly after, I see the American flag waving in the air, mocking me and ushering me toward another year of boredom and stress. My stomach grows anxious as we inch closer and closer to the school. We pull up to my father's reserved parking spot that was labeled in fading paint. "Head Coach" it reads.
"Let's start the year off right buddy!" my dad says as he pulls me in for a sideways hug. Usually, this kind of affection I would hate, but for some reason, I really needed it. We walk through the double doors of Bernstein High. We would soon be separated through the crowded halls, but to some avail, my friend Ava found me relatively quickly.
"Danny!" An average-height Latino girl with short brown hair and brown eyes dressed in a black hoodie, ripped jeans, and black Converse screams as she bolts through the hall to come and embrace me.
"Hi, Ava!!" I say this in an excited voice while hugging her. She smells like lavender and a really good-smelling perfume. Her hair was very soft to the touch as well. We start walking through the hall back and forth until we find more of our friends. We see our friend Dominic, and we wave over at him, and he looks over and rushes toward us. He had curly brown hair and piercing green eyes. He was dressed in a white-beige long sleeve, a green vest, black jeans, and green vans.
"Danny! Ava! I missed you guys so much last year, you know how hard it is to educate a deaf student online," he signs to us as Ava smiles and slowly looks over at me.
"Do your thing!" she says, smiling.
"He said, "He really missed us and it was hard for him to learn because of the online school situation," I translated for him. Ava smiles and hugs him tightly. She holds out the sign for "I Love You" and he begins blushing and makes a motion to follow him. We walk through various halls of the school that I had completely forgotten existed. We reach an excluded hallway and instantly, memories rush through my mind. It was where we stayed the majority of our Freshman year we'd eat lunch here, meet up here during the mornings, and where we'd stay after school some days because none of the APs would check that hall for some reason. It was the art hallway, I think ever since the nefarious wrongdoing in the corridor they wouldn't dare step place in that dirty place, not to mention mysterious dried puddles, hell I wouldn't do it either.
We talk and reminisce about our freshmen year and suddenly the hall begins to fill up; first period was going to start in 10 minutes.
"Bye, see you later!" Dom signs to us. We all wave goodbye and Ava walks me to my first period.
"What is your first period anyway?" Ava asks me while scrolling on Instagram stalking her crush.
"It's AP English with Taylor Benson!!!" I say laughing at her. Taylor Benson was her crush for about 3 years. She blushes at starts hitting me while telling me to keep my voice down.
"Nah, it's with Mr. Gibson," I say wiping a tear from my eye.
"Isn't he the hot one?" Ava asks with utmost seriousness. I nearly burst out in laughter.
"I mean he's not ugly? He's old enough to be my dad though," I say chuckling slightly.
"That didn't stop you with Oscar Issac," she says laughing. I push her playfully and I start laughing.
"Yeah I guess that's true, I'll see you later Ava," I say walking into Mr. Gibson's threshold. He smiles and welcomes me to his class.
"Hello, future of the world! Please grab a sticky note from the table and find the corresponding quote with the person." I wave and I walk over to the table and I extend my hand out to grab a sticky note.
"Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars to change the world." the sticky note reads. I smile because I instantly identify who said this; Harriet Tubman. I look around the room and I find her face and I place it on the side of her face. Mr. Gibson rises from his seat and looks at the sticky notes and begins taking notes down one by one. Except for my own and a few others.
"If your sticky note is on the floor, you must find someone random to help you locate where the appropriate person is," he announces to the class. My heart skips a beat as people begin crowding around their friends asking them for help. A tall figure looms over me and I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around and I see one of my old friends.
"Daniel?" he says in a partially shy but equally excited voice.
"Hey! How've you been Sean?" I say happily. He reaches for my dreads and starts observing them.
"Dude I like the dreads! The females love the dreads," he tells me with a grin. I start laughing despite hearing an actual person say "female" unironically in a sentence. He holds out his card and I observe the card.
"Can you help me out? I don't want you to just give me the answer, just a little help?" he asks of me. I smile and give him some clues.
"We have nothing to fear but fear itself," the note reads.
"Okay, so what do you already know about this? You know that it is, you just don't know you do," I encourage him.
"It was definitely a president," he says with excitement and laughter.
"Hell yeah! Ok but was this recent or old?" I question him.
"Probably old," he says as I look at him with an unsure face screaming "hell no."
"Nevermind, it was recent, sort of," he corrects himself. He then looks around the room and begins elimination.
"Well Woodrow Wilson would never say something like that," he says confidently as I chuckle and nod in agreement.
"FDR," he says smiling. I nod and usher him to place it on the image of Franklin Roosevelt. He turns around, still smiling and he takes a seat right next to me.
"I forget how smart you are sometimes," he says smiling at me. My heart skips a beat and if I were white, I would've turned red immediately.
"You were definitely always smarter," I say laughing nervously.
"You think so?" he asks with a huge smile and his eyebrow raised.
"For sure, I remember in College Prep class I wished I had your grades," I say and his eyes go wide.
"I guess it was a mutual rivalry," he says smiling. Sean tried to get grades like me? I always wanted to beat him, I never really knew he had the same intentions. We look at each other for a while and for a moment in time everything fell into place. Time distorted and I suddenly catch a scent of cinnamon, it was coming from him. He looks into my eyes with his dark deep brown eyes. The only things I can stay focused on are his lips and his face, and I get the feeling that maybe he was looking at me the same way. My heart races and my head tingles and I feel the sensation of sweating running down my spine. My leg begins to bounce repeatedly as I continue to look into his irresistible eyes. The bell rings ending the staring competition, he gets up and jostles my arm softly.
"I'll see you later!" Sean says exiting the classroom. I smile and grab my bag, upon exiting I tell Mr. Gibson thanks for the team-building exercise. I could tell it really made his day the way his blue eyes lit up after.
I walk out into the hallway with Ava already standing there waiting for me. She whispers in my ear.
"Sean is in your class??" she says excitedly. She knows that I had a mini crush on him for a while but eventually gave up on it because he was painfully straight. I didn't want to get my hopes up and end up getting crushed.