A Story., Semi-autobiographical boredom.

Each of the subway lines means something different to me. I come to this realization while I’m sitting in Queens Plaza waiting for the train that will take me home. It’s my last year of high school and I watch the trains go by as I wait for mine and so I think.

The L, even though it doesn’t run here, is my sophomore year – hip/hop, Brooklyn, the winter, first love … shit like that. Shit I don’t want to think about. But even if I don’t want to think about it, the L was a big part of my life for a while and now matter how far I go from it, some part of me will always know what an effect it had on me.

Then there’s the R, the line I’m just about to get on. It’s the present; it’s what I’m doing now. It’s the beginning of my last summer as a High School student. Its new friends, new relationships and a new way home.

The train pulls in and takes me away from my thoughts. I get on and I look around. If this was a movie, this would be where I look at the camera and say “Zombies, man. All of them.” That’s what’s called ‘breaking the fourth wall’. I took an acting class last year. But back to my fellow passengers. It’s an early train, around 2 in the afternoon so you don’t have the after work crowd, not even a lot of students just these people that are on the train when you get on and still there when you get off. The people you get the feeling are always on the train, they just live there. Not homeless people, just people that are always there.

Zombies.

I’m going to the mall (real original for a teenager, right?) to meet up with some friends and then make plans for the night. It’s the first day of summer and that means we have to do something. It’s not just tradition, it’s expected. Our parents don’t think we’ll be home and we don’t want to be anywhere something that familiar.

The R rattles along, the lights flicker from time to time and the faces rotate. I’m getting off at Woodhaven, only a couple of more stops left. I reach in my pocket and I find my cigarettes. It’s a shitty habit, I know, it’s killing me, I know but do I give a shit? No. I’m one of those self destructive types – I’m a funny guy, type of guy you want at a party, type of guy you can rely on. Type of guy who’s different around different people.

I smack the pack of cigarettes on my hand, kind of like a nervous tick. It’s my stop.

I’ve become so bored with everything and that’s an upsetting thing to have happen to you when you’re 18. The parties, the drinking, the smoking, and the school every day, same friends, same experiences over and over again. Don’t get me wrong, I love all my friends and I know I’m lucky to be fortunate enough to be able to spend my time leisurely and all that bullshit but still, nothing changes. There’s no defining moment.

I meet them in the mall; they’re in the food court (the bad teen clichés just keep on running, don’t they?).

Joe’s leaning back in his chair, balancing a French fry on his upper lip like a moustache. Joe’s that friend we all have – goofy, well liked, easy going, the quintessential high school kid.

Then there’s Ryan, he’s a bit farther off the path. Ryan’s like a walking version of Jackass, he does incredibly dangerous things all the time (right now, for instance, he’s attempting to set Joe’s shoelace on fire without Joe noticing, he’s that type of guy). Funniest person I know though, without a doubt. James is sitting to his left, drumming his fingers on the table.

James smokes a lot of pot but he hates when you define him by that and rightly so, there’s a lot more to him than that, you just don’t get to see it all the time.

Michelle and Rebecca are the two girls we hang out with (aside from Joe’s revolving door of girls). Michelle is the female version of me but as you don’t know me that well, that’s not really a helpful description. Rebecca is, like Joe, what you would expect a popular girl in high school to be like. Maybe smarter.

This is my collection of friends. We wonder around Queens drinking and inbreeding within the group and then going back to school and then repeating again.

We discuss plans for that night.
Unsurprisingly, James votes for smoking.
Unsurprisingly, Ryan votes for drinking.
Joe suggests we find a party that’s already going on because he’s too lazy to think of something himself.
Rebecca suggests Michelle’s house because Michelle’s parents are out. Michelle glances at me in an exasperated way but agrees.
While they’re discussing the details, I look around and my stomach drops.

She’s here with her friends. I know, it’s sappy. The hardened, confident, laid back kid has one weakness – the girl. She doesn’t notice that I’m looking in her direction, which is probably best. We used to go out but something went wrong along the way and now we’re just awkward friends who talk from time to time. I’ll go through different phases where I tell myself that I won’t talk to her anymore, it’s no good for me, every time I talk to her, I remember why I still like her in the first place and it’s not worth it if she doesn’t feel the same way.

But the lies we tell ourselves are exactly that, lies. It’s not like I haven’t had other girlfriends or girls I’d been interested in, it’s just that she has that something special, that something that you can’t put your finger on when you’re drunk and describing to your friends why you can’t let this girl. It’s the thing that hits you in the stomach when you see her with another guy, which is exactly what’s happening right now.

It’s her and a couple of her friends and a guy walking with his arm in his back pocket. I slam my chair forward from its leaned back position and pull my hat down. Joe looks at me and just shakes his head. He knows but at the same time he doesn’t. He’s impervious to normal people relationship problems and worries; he just goes from one to the next without ever getting too invested.

The plans are made and we sit there a while talking, killing time until it’s respectable to go and get drunk.

I get up to go the bathroom and James comes along. We discuss last night’s Mets game and the words ‘****ing’, ‘losers’ and ‘disappointment’ come up a lot, to no one’s surprise. We walk out and she’s walking in to the women’s room next door. There’s an awkward moment in which we both stop and look at each other and James kind of just scratches his head and tries to look away.

I look into her eyes. Her eyes are what I like the most – they’re big and brown and even through her glasses you can get lost in them and just feel like even if the world collapsed around you right now, those eyes would still be there and you’d still be safe.

Her hair falls down to her shoulders in luxurious curls and stands in sharp contrast to her pale skin, I’m momentarily dumbstruck.

I come back to myself and the sinking feeling in my stomach. We exchange quick greetings and then go our separate ways. We both look back and there’s a lot that’s left unsaid.

She won’t ever know how much she means to me and maybe it’s better that way because what would she do if she knew? I don’t expect her to leave her boyfriend or suddenly have a change of heart.

We’re over and we’ll remain that way no matter how many stories I write, no matter how many times I tell myself that we can be friends.

We’ll go our separate ways now and I can’t help but feeling that some part of me is still with her, even if she doesn’t know it.

Despite all of this, there’s something to be said for knowing that your perfect girl is out there somewhere. Even if you can’t have her. Knowing that she’s there gives you something to strive for, something to inspire you.

James and I go back to the table and we don’t discuss what just happened and no one asks and then we go and we get shitfaced and high and for a while, I forget about the one that got away.

First, Stargazey, you can write. But before I go on with a critique, I'd like to ask one thing - do you intend to go on with this? If so..

A proper Heading, and chapters, would be most helpful.

I was thinking this would just be a one shot but I'm so bored and have so much time on my hands these days that I may add something on in the future.

Thanks for the interest though.

Um seriously? ****ing chapters and a title?


Pretty cool, Gazey. You're beginning is well developed. Thinking about the subways like that is a pretty big idea that you could even develop on its own.

DON'T FORGET PICTURES AND A TABLE OF CONTENTS!

INDEX! I NEED AN INDEX!

Glossary, list of references and bibliography...
MAN, THIS THING JUST FAILS ON SO MANY LEVELS.


Seriously, it's well done, SG. Keep it up!

I wake up the next day sprawled on Joe’s couch, my eyes slowly adjusting to the daylight streaming in the windows. Crushed beer cans litter the room and glint in the sunlight like bizarre diamonds. I look around and I notice with a laugh that Joe is spread out on the floor with James’s head resting on his chest. Noticing that he isn’t there, I assume that Ryan wandered back home sometime last night in the midst of a bunch of things I don’t remember.

Getting quietly up I go to his terrace for a smoke, looking out at the bright day in front of me. I fish around in my pockets for my phone to check the time. I see a message from Her and the reality of yesterday brings me crashing back to earth, killing my good mood, my fresh slate.

I put my phone back in my pocket and take a deep drag on my cigarette, holding the smoke for just a moment before letting it flow slowly out of my mouth. I know that text too well. I’ve gotten it every other time something like last night has happened. It’s going to be something along the lines of “wowww that was awkward lolll…. How are you?” And I’ll reply and we’ll have some bullshit conversation about nothing and go back to pretending like the other doesn’t exist. So for now, I do myself a favor and ignore the text.

There’s a whole life out here to be lived, why let some stupid words on my phone ruin a perfectly good day? I finish my cigarette, flick it over the edge and watch the embers linger for just a second before they fall slowly down to the pavement.

Back inside, the guys are awake and talking about last night. They both had differing versions of what had happened - they were both convinced that they were the one who had hooked up with Rebecca’s hot cousin who was in town to visit. I agreed with neither of them to maintain my impartiality and instead ask what the plans were for the day. A rooftop party in the city is mentioned and we all agree that it’s going to be a pretty good time especially considering it’s being thrown by our friend who’s in college. This having been decided, Joe pulls out a bong from under the sofa and we proceed with the events of the day.

It’s about 9 and we’re all meeting back at Joe’s because his house is closest to the train. As I step off the bus and lean against the front wall of Joe’s house while I wait for him to come down, I get a strange feeling. Some days you have the sense that something is going to happen, something you didn’t expect, maybe not even something you want, just something. I realize how weird it is to be pondering something like this so I shake my head and try and focus on the fact that this’ll be our second party in as many days.

Yeah, that’s a good thing, right?

Right.

Joe comes out, late as usual, and we rush off to the mall to meet everyone else.

We’re on the train now and the usual conversation ensues – how we’ll get home, what type of people will be there and who will be there. Michelle mentions a couple of people that we know that will be there and Her name rolls off of her tongue like a bomb being dropped. I cough and choke on my water. Ryan slaps me on the back and I try to play it off as nothing serious and no one seems to notice except Joe, who glances at me quickly before turning back to the conversation.

I feel the familiar weight in my stomach and realize that I will have to be very drunk to see Her and Her boyfriend for the second time in as many days.