My morning classes were like every normal day of me sitting near the back end of end of each room with my books and binders spread all over my desk. My drive was set to learn and to avoid any thoughts of anything or anybody…but, of course, who was I kidding? I played the scene over and over in mind of Anna handing me my calculator. I wanted to imagine the magic in the moment when our hands barely touched. The spark of a kindling romance. The possibility of walking together down the halls, hands entwined and not giving a care in the world. It was a dream that ran like a blurry VHS cassette on infinite repeat.

I think I internally sighed about 34.34 times a minute during Washington State History and then two to the fourth power every sixty seconds of Algrebra II class. I darted out of my math class with only thing on my mind: to find Anna. As much as is it pained me to not shower her with so much affection she’d suffocate it was best to hold back on the smothering and think about a relationship on more friendly terms. There could be time later.

I saw Anna walking with a group of students. Three girls and two guys: all juniors whose names still escape m. She was laughing along with something they said and I decided it may be best to eject said amateurish internal romance video and just pass everything off as someone being helpful. Sure, she was going to be friendly and maybe say everything like that to make me feel good. I mean, I had been tripped and fell to the floor. I couldn’t have sunk any lower than her feet. I closed my eyes and let out a sigh that would have made Charlie Brown feel better about his life.

“Hey, Bryce!” Anna’s voice rang out, forcing me to look at her. She had a huge smile as she broke away from the group and skipped over to meet me. “How ya doin?”
“I’m good, how about you?”
“I’m not a fan of my business class.”
“No one ever is,” I replied.
“Too. Much. Writin’, you know? Think I went through two pens.”
“You’ll fill three notebooks.”
“I’m just gonna bring one of those micro-recorder things.”
“Good idea.”
“Hey, about what I said about you coming out?”
“It’s fine, you don’t have to invite me.”
“But I meant it. I just thought maybe you were thinkin’ I just said that to make small talk or that I sounded like my cornbread ain’t done in the middle.”
I had no idea what she meant, and I think she noticed by my expression.
“Meaning I’m crazy or somethin’.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy.”
“You think I’m weird though?”
“Only if you think I am, then we can start our own club.”
“I’d like that. What are you doing for lunch?”
“Bagged lunch from home.”
“Me too,” she replied as I turned around to follow her. “Do you remember my locker number?”
“245.”
“Ding! You win a prize. I don’t have one right now to award you, but I’ll think of somethin’, ” she said with a laugh as she spun the dial of her combination lock and opened her locker. I took a glance inside of it and she had installed two shelves to stack her binders and books with her backpack hanging to the right of everything. Her backpack was denim with multiple keychains hanging from it. There was a peach, what looked like a unicorn, a red elephant and a pair of red lips on a black background.

She took out said backpack and I could see the other side that had what looked a tiny Gameboy, an outline of the state of Alabama and a blue and pink flag logo. I watched her unzip the backpack, take out a brown bag, and then placed the bag back on the hook.
“Let’s go get yours,” she replied as she closed her locker and adjusted her purse that was slung over her shoulder. “I almost made a big lunch for today. Almost went full out with some beans and rice along with a peach cobbler. But mama refused to do make anything like that or let me cook it because of what happened at our last house.”
“What happened?”
We walked down the nearly empty hallway to my locker. The high school had an opera campus so students could leave the building and walk down to the only store in town for a slice of pizza or a burrito. Otherwise, they could go to the lunchroom near the elementary school. I stopped going to the lunchroom after ninth grade.
“To hear her say it, I burned the house down, but I just forgot to stir some beans and they scorched real bad. Now that I’m thinkin’ about it, I’m glad I’m in a Home Economics class.”
“I took that class. Made some ice cream with a whole can of sweetened condensed milk,”
“Supposed to half it, right?”
“Yep,” I replied as I opened my locker, literally throwing my books in, and then taking a bag from the bottom.
“This is a good spot to sit,” Anna stated as she say to the right of the door as I closed it. I took a quick at her and wondered if this was a part of the dreams I had earlier in the day, and if it was, I didn’t want to wake up.
“Let’s see…what did we pack today? A stuffed portobello with sausage?”
“Really? There’s a microwave in the Home Ec room if you need to heat-”
“I wish.” Anna took out a small sandwich and carrot stickers. “Perhaps another day. How about you?”
“The same, actually,” I slid my back down to sit next to her on the floor.
“Baloney or ham?”
“Peanut butter,” I replied.
“Hey, maybe we can make something this afternoon.”
“As long as it’s not beans.”
“I hear ya,” she replied with a smile.