Wasteland
Awkward
The first day that Mike Fuentes noticed me burned brightly in my memory as the day that started it all. Since we were kids going to the same elementary school, I had noticed him. When I passed by him in the halls, I was always hyper-aware of his every movement, as if I had a strange 'Mike Radar'. I din't like calling it a crush, because that word made it seem childish, but I was attracted to him. More than anything, I found him interesting to watch; I just noticed him, even if he didn't notice me. I had never had a reason to talk to him before, to make my existence known to him.
Until the first day of my senior year.
When I walked into my homeroom, he was the first thing I noticed. The first thing that I could think was that a lot of kids had either moved or dropped out over the summer, because our homerooms were arranged by last name, and Ds and Fs were for some reason never put together. After that, my heart started to pound with excitement. Having him in homeroom opened up a whole new world of possibilities, mostly having to do with him finally realizing that I did indeed exist. When I could finally figure out how to walk again, I sat a little behind him, close enough to hear the sound of him drumming against the desk with a couple pencils.
When the bell rang, I stood up slowly, eyes locked on Mike. He rose out of his desk and gathered up his bag, blindly shoving the pencils into his bag. I followed behind him as he walked to his next class, not because I was trying to stalk him, but because he was going the same way that I did.
With a pleasant jolt, I realized that he was walking into the same class; the day just kept getting better and better. I sat down behind him and stared at the back of his head.
All of this made me sound like an obsessive weirdo, but it was nothing like that. For some reason, Mike interested me. Every time I thought about him, I longed to have a simple conversation with him, because I felt like once he started talking he would have so much to say. That was why I hated myself for being to hesitant to start a proper conversation.
And then, he did it for me.
When he turned around, looked me dead in the eye, and said "Hey," I nearly choked on my own air.
"Hi." I mumbled.
"I'm Mike."
"Adalia."
"That's pretty." he said, holding one of his large hands out. "Nice to meet you."
It took me a moment to realize that he meant for me to shake it. He pumped my hand a few times before quickly letting him go and turning around.
Just as quickly as it had started, my brief first encounter with Mike Fuentes ended.
Of course, to make it my first and not my only, there had to be others. The second time he spoke to me came at the end of that week.
"I like your shirt." he said, gesturing to the Harry Potter tank top that I was wearing.
"Thank you." I said with a smile.
"I also like your tattoos." he said, gesturing to the Dark Mark on my forearm. "Would've never guessed that you were a Death Eater."
"Well, you know. I try to hide that part of me. Tends to get in the way of my studies when my teachers keep expecting me to Avada Kedavra them." I said, amazed at myself for thinking up a somewhat clever response.
He chuckled and said, "You don't care that you'll never be able to get a good job? That tattoos are permanent? That-"
"You sound like my parents." I said, cutting him off short. "I have a job, thanks. I'm not worried about finding someone to hire me, because I don't want to work for anyone who can't accept the fact that I have tattoos."
He watched me with a bemused look until I was done, then said, "I wasn't criticizing you. I actually find hilarious when people ask me that every time I talk about getting a tattoo. Like I haven't put any thought into it."
I grinned widely at him; he totally got it.
"Anyway, I didn't turn all the way around in my seat to talk about this, as interesting as it's been." he said with a grin. "I wanted to invite you to a bonfire tomorrow night."
I raised an eyebrow and said, "Where are you going to have a bonfire in San Diego?"
"On the beach, of course." he said. "Haven't you ever had a bonfire on the beach before?"
I shook my head. It wasn't like I had many friends that would want to, and even if I did, most of the time I hated being social. It required too much effort to act like I was enjoying the mindless small talk.
Mike raised an eyebrow at me and said, "I'll pick you up at 8."
Until the first day of my senior year.
When I walked into my homeroom, he was the first thing I noticed. The first thing that I could think was that a lot of kids had either moved or dropped out over the summer, because our homerooms were arranged by last name, and Ds and Fs were for some reason never put together. After that, my heart started to pound with excitement. Having him in homeroom opened up a whole new world of possibilities, mostly having to do with him finally realizing that I did indeed exist. When I could finally figure out how to walk again, I sat a little behind him, close enough to hear the sound of him drumming against the desk with a couple pencils.
When the bell rang, I stood up slowly, eyes locked on Mike. He rose out of his desk and gathered up his bag, blindly shoving the pencils into his bag. I followed behind him as he walked to his next class, not because I was trying to stalk him, but because he was going the same way that I did.
With a pleasant jolt, I realized that he was walking into the same class; the day just kept getting better and better. I sat down behind him and stared at the back of his head.
All of this made me sound like an obsessive weirdo, but it was nothing like that. For some reason, Mike interested me. Every time I thought about him, I longed to have a simple conversation with him, because I felt like once he started talking he would have so much to say. That was why I hated myself for being to hesitant to start a proper conversation.
And then, he did it for me.
When he turned around, looked me dead in the eye, and said "Hey," I nearly choked on my own air.
"Hi." I mumbled.
"I'm Mike."
"Adalia."
"That's pretty." he said, holding one of his large hands out. "Nice to meet you."
It took me a moment to realize that he meant for me to shake it. He pumped my hand a few times before quickly letting him go and turning around.
Just as quickly as it had started, my brief first encounter with Mike Fuentes ended.
Of course, to make it my first and not my only, there had to be others. The second time he spoke to me came at the end of that week.
"I like your shirt." he said, gesturing to the Harry Potter tank top that I was wearing.
"Thank you." I said with a smile.
"I also like your tattoos." he said, gesturing to the Dark Mark on my forearm. "Would've never guessed that you were a Death Eater."
"Well, you know. I try to hide that part of me. Tends to get in the way of my studies when my teachers keep expecting me to Avada Kedavra them." I said, amazed at myself for thinking up a somewhat clever response.
He chuckled and said, "You don't care that you'll never be able to get a good job? That tattoos are permanent? That-"
"You sound like my parents." I said, cutting him off short. "I have a job, thanks. I'm not worried about finding someone to hire me, because I don't want to work for anyone who can't accept the fact that I have tattoos."
He watched me with a bemused look until I was done, then said, "I wasn't criticizing you. I actually find hilarious when people ask me that every time I talk about getting a tattoo. Like I haven't put any thought into it."
I grinned widely at him; he totally got it.
"Anyway, I didn't turn all the way around in my seat to talk about this, as interesting as it's been." he said with a grin. "I wanted to invite you to a bonfire tomorrow night."
I raised an eyebrow and said, "Where are you going to have a bonfire in San Diego?"
"On the beach, of course." he said. "Haven't you ever had a bonfire on the beach before?"
I shook my head. It wasn't like I had many friends that would want to, and even if I did, most of the time I hated being social. It required too much effort to act like I was enjoying the mindless small talk.
Mike raised an eyebrow at me and said, "I'll pick you up at 8."
11/25/13