And, Chapter 2: School

And was hungry. She had forgotten to pack a lunch. All she could think about was But. In Trigonometry class, she couldn’t stand to think about math. The same went for Chemistry and English. She felt like everyone was always watching her. She knew that wasn’t true, but she couldn’t shake the feeling.

In the cafeteria, she spotted Comma. He was sitting with his buddies, eating a leftover ham sandwich. She walked over to him and said, “Let me have a couple bites–I forgot my lunch.” Comma dug his wallet out of his pocket. “Here’s five dollars,” he said, and handed her a five dollar bill. “You owe me eighteen dollars, now.” “Thanks!” she said. “I’ll pay you back tonight.”

And bought some greasy cheese pizza and some corn, a chocolate milk and an apple juice. It wasn’t gourmet, but it tasted pretty good. She didn’t usually sit with Comma, but today was an exception. Borrowing money always seemed to bond her to a person. She ate quietly and didn’t say a word until the bell rang. She was just drinking her last sip of apple juice. She hurried over to the trash can and dumped her lunch tray, then put the tray and the silverware on it onto the conveyor belt to the dishwasher.

And’s last two class periods of the day were both chorus. In the first period they warmed up their voices, did sight reading and went over difficult parts that they had trouble with. During the second period they practiced a broadway medley, and then split into groups to come up with choreography. Sometimes they went on field trips to retirement homes, during Christmastime they gave outdoor concerts, and at Valentine’s Day they did singing telegrams around school as a fundraiser.

After school, And and Comma met each other at the bus. Luckily, they got on before Cheese and his buddies, so they got their seats without any trouble. And sat next to the window. She opened it and felt the cool breeze. She enjoyed the warm sun on her face and dozed a little on the trip home. They got off a couple blocks from their house, which was as close as the bus stopped. And raised her hands in a hallelujah gesture and yelled, “Yea! But comes back tomorrow!” Comma smirked. He was sorta glad, too. His sister was always more agreeable when she was in love.

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Author: Gordon S. Bowman III

Writer, Visual Artist, Blogger, Advocate

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