Sage looked up from her paper at her squatty, rather pretty, friend, whose deep brown eyes were looking at her intently. They kind of reminded her of a cow's eyes, not that Dayna looks anything like a cow. They're just really big and brown.
"Yeah, yeah, I promise. I won't tell." she said, not really knowing what she agreed to not tell. Dayna comes with drama. Sage discovered this when she got into college. Drama is Dayna's middle name. Every week she'd come in with some knew boy and how she thinks he's "the one." What is the one anymore? All of this crazy view of "the one" kinda drives one insane after awhile.
Sage looked at the clock on the kitchen wall of her apartment and realized it was time for class. She ran into her messy room and grabbed all of her books and glanced in the mirror at herself to make sure that she wasn't too horrible looking. "You never know who you can run into" she thought to herself. Sage's six foot-one inch person stared back at her. She glanced at her slightly auburn-ish hair, adjusted her bra, then got really close to the mirror and looked at her poors. "Dang poors, no matter how much money I put into you you still like to explode into violent volcanoes of puss." Then she ran out of the third floor apartment and started on her way up the giant stares to class.
Walking to class was always a calming thing for her. It was then where she could think of whatever she wanted and imagine whatever she wanted. It was usually her thinking of some sort of relationship that she wished existed, mainly because that's what happens when you go to a school where everybody and anybody is either married, engaged, or dating. Kinda annoying. She would always remind herself though that she doesn't want to get married, after she daydreams, there's so much more to do with life still...
A tall man walks behind her and steps on the back of her shoe. Everything goes flying including her tall, lanky self. He stops picks up her books, and gives her his hand. She looks at him. The guy who helped her is extremely good looking! She grabs his hand and he glances at her, mumbles an apology, and still holding her books, walks her to class.
She walks into the building and the mysterious man vanishes in to thin air with the bell. Sage sighs, and walks into the basement classroom. She takes a seat in the second to last row of the florescent lit room and settles in. Her teacher's lisp sticks out and that's the only thing that she listens to. Then his mouth slowly starts to disappear until all that's left is the "ssss"--or "ththththth" in his case--his eyes slowly get closer and closer until he only has one and the white board fads behind him into nothing-ness. He is now just a floating head. A floating "thyclopth" head.
"Brriiinggg!" The bell rings again and she walks out of the windowless classroom past her balding teacher and back into the jam-packed, body-odor, hallway.
"I really need to pay more attention..."She said to herself.
Walking back down the stairs to her apartments, she decides that she doesn't want to daydream anymore. It gets in the way, and is completely unreal. So, she counts. She would count how many steps it takes between each overgrown crack in the sidewalk. Her long legs stride in beat to the blasting radios passing by on the street below and she has to have three steps between each individual crack. Three. It had to be three, or at least each foot had to have the equal chance of being first to step into the concrete square. "Squares," she'd think, "they're so easy...why can't everything be that equal and easy, does that make me a square? Am I boring like a square? Ok...no more thinking! I'm tired of thinking...that's all I ever do..."
She walks up the two flights of stairs making sure that her feet got the same chance of being the first to step on the first step. "I'm really obsessive-compulsive...should I have this looked at? I'll talk to Wade tomorrow..."
Everything she'd think of would end in an ellipse. Nothing was concrete, everything just faded into a series of three dots...
She walked into her apartment and flung herself on the couch, backpack full of books and all, and reached for the remote in the middle of the living room floor. Dayna walks in glares at her and says "don't you ever do anything productive with yourself?"
Sage tunes her out, once again, and turns into zombie mode. Some sort of rerun of a basketball game is going on. "Basketball is good and mindless," she says to herself. Television and movies are the only things that keep her from thinking. They allow her to glance into the imagination of other people. She doesn't have to think, just watch. Nice and simple.
Her backpack slowly gets wiggled out of, without disturbing her position, and finds its way on the floor with a thud, along with her size ten shoes. She adjusts herself more into the crevice of the couch and gazes, glassy eyed at the screen full of noise, yelling, and little people running back and forth with the burnt-orange ball.
The time flies by as she becomes more and more zombie-like. Just a nothing. Dayna walks in and out, complaining about something, but nobody is or wants to pay attention. A commercial for some sort of beer came on along with a violent ring from her cell phone. She groaned as she pulled herself up from her position to grab her phone from across the room.
"mmm-ello?" She managed to get out.
"Sage, what are you doing tonight?"
She closed her eyes, furrowed her eyebrows and opened her eyes again. "What?" She said.
"What are you doing tonight?"
"Oh, I don't know yet, why?"
"Eh, it's just a Friday night and I thought you'd like to do something."
"Is it really Friday already? Oh, yeah...I guess it is...Uh, sure. What did you have in mind?"
"Well I was gonna go to this new place out on 9th street, it's supposed to be pretty good."
The deeply foreign accented voice kept explaining about this new hip place and she just kept thinking "I like hip, maybe it'd be good if I get out. I like to get dressed up every once in awhile...but these dang zits..."
"So, what do you say?"
"Ok. That'd be fun, I've been a little too boring lately."
The voice chuckled low and soft while saying, "ok. I'll pick you up at around 8?"
"Sounds good."
The soft click from the other side of the call commences and her mind starts up again. "Did I just get asked on a date? Huh. That's interesting..."
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