[[A/N: Hey guys~! Just a little something I thought of while attending a University event the other day :) ...
Hope you enjoy it! Let me know what you think~! I think I might use this as the foundation for a longer story, though I'm not quite sure yet, hahaha.]]
“He’s so cute!”
“Do you think he’ll take a picture with me…?”
“I want to take a picture with him!”
“Forget that, I want to take him home with me!”
“Do you think he’ll take a picture with me…?”
“I want to take a picture with him!”
“Forget that, I want to take him home with me!”
I don’t mean to sound cocky, but I hear stuff like this all the time.
I always find it strange when girls talk about me this way; after all, I’ve always been a rather awkward person – I’m ‘hard to approach,’ as my little sister likes to say.
Throughout elementary school, middle school and high school, I was always the outcast: the one no one wanted as a lab partner, the one who everyone made sure to exclude come group project time, the one who was always picked last for dodge-ball.
Maybe that was my fault, though. Maybe it wasn’t that I was an outcast – maybe just quiet, unnoticed. Looking back, I realize that I never made an attempt to let people know that I was there. I’ve always had trouble talking to people; I just can’t find the words to say, and when I do I say all the wrong things.
In grade school, I didn’t want to speak. I didn’t want to say the wrong things.
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To be honest, college hasn’t really been any different. Sure, I told myself I’d be different in college: I’d be outgoing, talkative – I’d be the one everyone wanted to be friends with. That’s what everyone wants, isn’t it? To be different in college – to be the ‘new you.’
Unfortunately, I didn’t change. I’m still awkward, I still can’t find the right words to say, and I’m still quiet – still unnoticed. I’m still all these things, but at the same time, I’ve been voted as “most popular” and “most beloved” member of the University three years in a row. I’m the one everyone wants to be friends with.
And yet, that’s not who I am at all.
“TJ! Turn around, turn around!”
I twirled around to face a beautiful girl, beaming at me. Her bright, green eyes fell to the floor for a moment in hesitation; she bit her lip, twirling a few strands of her bouncy brown curls around her finger. I could tell she’d been dancing from the sweat that trickled slowly down the side of her face. I swayed back and forth for a moment, holding my paws against my jaw.
She seemed discouraged, “Wh-what are you laughing at?”
I bit my lip, sweat trickling down my own face; had I said the wrong thing without actually having said anything? I didn’t think that was possible. Wanting to explain myself, I lifted my paw and stroked the side of her face, causing her to take notice of herself.
“O-oh!” Immediately embarrassed, she turned away and tugged at her hair, swiftly pulling it into a brisk, refreshing pony-tail. She turned back towards me and smiled timidly, “… It’s… It’s just really sunny and hot out, okay? I’m sure you know that best out of all of us here…”
I recognized her from ENGL342: Samantha Kierney. I didn’t know her to be a particularly shy person; in fact, she contributed a lot to our discussions in English, though there were over 80 students in lecture – incredibly intelligent and confident, that’s how I saw her. Yet, somehow, she was shy in approaching me.
I stuck my paws to my hips and leaned forward, cocking my head to the side in curiosity; she stepped back
– I think I surprised her – and giggled for a moment, shyly pulling a camera up to her face.
She pointed at it. She pointed at herself. She pointed at me.
An all-too-familiar dance.
I nodded vigorously, arms flailing in excitement. She laughed in response, shedding her shyness with her laughter. I was relieved. Somehow, that shy look on her face didn’t seem to suit her – the smile was much better.
She quickly handed the camera off to one of her friends (Tara Crewe, I think – also in ENGL342) and took her place beside me, posing and grinning. But I didn’t take such plain pictures.
I swept her off her feet, causing her to shriek and wrap her arms around my neck; I got nervous (as I usually do when I do something like this) until she laughed and said, “TJ! What’re you doing?!” as she lightly bumped her fist against my almost-hollow head. I chuckled – I made a sound. She glanced at my head. She looked through. She saw me. “Oh hey… Aren’t you… WOAH, WAIT A SEC!”
I hurriedly repositioned myself towards the camera and took a knee, holding Samantha in one arm and making a peace-sign with the other; she looked at me again. I looked away, though I didn’t. “Okay, you guys ready?” Tara called out to us.
I nodded my head towards the camera. She stared. She blinked. And before she turned to face the camera, she smiled. At me.
“One… Two… Three!” FLASH.
Typically, the dance ends there.
I’d put her down, she’d skip over to her photographer, and then she’d point and laugh at the image in the camera before sending a goodbye wave my way.
Today, though, I could feel that something would be different.
Knowing that, I set Samantha down as quickly as possible and swiftly turned away, strutting away to the rhythm of the music when I felt a tap-tap-tap on my shoulder. I turned, and there she was again with that smile. This time, though, it was a mischievous smile – an expectant smile.
“Hmm… You’re Kyle, right? Kyle Jones?” I hadn’t heard anyone say my name in a long time, so it surprised me. I didn’t know what to do. I never know what to do. I know what to do, but I never know what to do.
I shrugged and scratched my head, turning around to strut away once more, but she maneuvered around me to face me again. I took a step back, waving my arms in surprise.
“You are! Kyle Jones! I could see your face through your… Mouth… I guess,” she arched her brow as she finished her sentence, unsure of the statement she’d just made. She recovered quickly. “Anyway! I’m Samantha Kierney! We’re in the same ENGL342 section, you know?”
I knew. Of course I knew. “But how do you know me?” PAUSE.
I whipped my hands over my mouth; I gaped. I’d spoken. I’d spoken, I’d spoken, I’d spoken.
“Hahaha, it’s fine, it’s fine! No one else heard you!” Samantha laughed and pat my shoulder lightly.
It’s fine? … It’s fine. No one else heard me.
“And what do you mean ‘how do you know me?’ We’re in the same class!”
Yes, the same class. Of 80 students.
“But man, this is so cool!” she said smiling, “I didn’t know you were TJ! It must be so much fun playing the school’s mascot all the time!”
For the first time, I didn’t know how to respond. Not because I’m socially inept, but because Samantha wasn’t speaking to me; she wasn’t asking me for a picture; she wasn’t asking me for a hug. She was trying to have a conversation with me.
She stood there, staring at me, waiting for a response. A response I couldn’t give her as me or as me. Certainly not now. Not here.
“Oh! Wait… You can’t talk, right?” I was saved. She smiled apologetically, “Sorry, sorry! I forgot… I guess it wouldn’t make much sense for TJ the Thomas Jackson University Bulldog to be talking to anyone during a pep rally, huh?”
That wasn’t why I wasn’t talking, but it was why I wasn’t talking.
It was why I became me. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to say the wrong things.
I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t speak. We wouldn’t speak. Yet, we would be admired and loved by virtually everyone in the University.
No, I would be admired and loved by virtually everyone in the University.
“Hm… Well, that’s okay! I understand,” she said, continuing her one-sided conversation; though…
Was this even a conversation…?
“Samantha!” She turned from me to see Tara, waving to her from the tent, “Come on! It’s way hot out there, let’s stand over here!”
“Ah, okay!” Samantha shouted back for a moment, and then turned her attention back to me. She smiled as she headed towards the tent, “Keep up the good work, Kyle!”
I gulped.
“Oops…” she slapped her hand over her mouth and grinned, “Sorry, I mean TJ!”
But that wasn't me. I wasn't TJ the Bulldog. I was anything but me.
I thought I was everything I wanted to be.
I thought that I'd achieved everything I thought I'd never achieve.
I thought I was stronger, I thought I was louder.
But as I waved my arms, watching as she walked away, I realized that was all I could do. I waved. I could only wave.
... Yet, I could do more:
“S-See you in class on Monday, Sam!”
She stopped. She turned. She smiled – at me. “Haha yeah, I’ll see you in class!”
Maybe... I can do more.
3 comments:
Cutee! :)
At first i was confused by the paw part haha, but it ties up at the end! I can see this as being part of an epilogue, don't know why D:
I think the beginning drags on a bit long. I've come to the realization (with my zombie story!) that short stories are best told as one scene. Just one small snippet of something big. And the less set up you have, the less time you have to develop that scene and the less powerful it becomes.
Especially in yours, since I felt like it was only in the beginning that Kyle was made out as an outcast. You said he was, repeatedly, but nowhere else indicates he is. The same goes to all his other traits, too.
And there were a lot of small details that weren't clarified. Like, has he... always been the mascot? Does he enjoy it even though it makes him feel outcast?
I felt stupid after reading the title... which I read... after I finished the story LOL. It seems so glaringly obvious now.
Tung here:
lol, that lifting-the-hair-with-the-paw part was kinda creepy, but endearing at the same time... also, Kyle was pretty whiny :)
I like your story, but it just felt like there was something missing... sorry, that's probably pretty unhelpful... I don't know, I just can't put my finger on it...
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