Minnie became the topic of my every conversation
with my best friend, Charlie, who listened to me with
a pair of Beats over her ears.
Her long dark hair always framed her face in gentle waves
when she cared to style it. Mostly, it sat on a bun atop her
head, and bobbed up and down with each step we took together.
We'd been neighbors since we were seven, and friends since
the day I saw the moving truck in the front of their house, the
oddball amongst a sea of white colonials - it was a pink ranch with
cacti in the front. We lived in Massachusetts.
Naturally, being the kid I was with the attention span of
a lizard, I dropped the Transformers I was playing with in
my front yard and ran over to hers.
We gathered up our odd bunch like Pokémon, you
could say. We couldn't have too many of the same people.
I didn't think that, but she sure did.
There was Julian, who we'd met in sixth grade.
He was always high on something, like Elmer's Glue
or you know, like, weed. He stumbles next
to me and Charlie, his beanie flopping behind him.
Soft red hairs poked out from the front.
"Hey, Jules." I said.
He muttered something and looked up
at the ceiling. "Cool."
I didn't wanna ask what was cool.
I saw Minnie out of the corner of my
eye, laughing and talking to some kid
who wore leather jackets and bootlegged
Alex Federling. Head of the Art Club.
He wrote his first graphic novel when
he was thirteen, got it published when
he was sixteen.
It was crap, in my humble opinion and
I don't read a lot.
I hated him and his smug glare and
his sea-green eyes and the way Minnie
looked at him that he was a fucking god-
Never mind. It didn't matter. I just had to
I just had to figure out how.
Sorry for the short entry, Journal.
I'm still working on finding my groove.