The walk to lunch was always the same. I would pass the same people, say hello to them, and make my way for the cafeteria. But, the journey to the lunchroom today, happened to be a little different. I took my slow steps, passing the staircases and classrooms that I knew so well. The air was pleasantly warm that day, not humid and sticky like it usually was. As I walked, the wind started to pick up a little and toss my hair in and out of my face. I was close to the cafeteria now, only one more staircase to pass before the task of picking a seat came about. Suddenly, my pleasant journey was interrupted; I saw them. The themÓ that IÕm talking about consists of a boy and a girl. The girl, who happened to be the spitting image of Barbie herself, was named Hanna. She had long blonde hair, blue eyes, and there wasnÕt an ounce of fat on her perfectly accessorized body. The boy, more importantly, was Chance. He wasnÕt exactly ken, but what he lacked in Ken looksÓ, he made up for in personality. He made his own shirts, he said what he pleased, and his happiness was always contagious to everyone he came around. I was walking towards themÓ. He was quietly talking to her and she was laughing happily. The sun was hitting his eyes just right, so with every word he spoke, his green eyes sparkled. The same wind that lifted my hair had made itÕs way over to him, and made his brown hair look even softer. Believe it or not, themÓ was almost him and I. We used to talk like this, every time we could. Before school, between classes, he would even skip and come to my classes sometimes. He was wonderful to me, and I was falling for him. After a while, word got around to me that he was falling for me too. My friends had told me, and I started to suspect it myself. One day he came up to me before school, softly grabbed my hand and whispered, I have something to ask you later, okay?Ó I was never so happy. But later didnÕt come. Days passed, and he didnÕt talk to me anymore. He didnÕt even look at me. Something was very wrong. I couldnÕt take it anymore. One rainy morning I made my way over to where he stood before school. He was wearing the jacket that matched his eyes, and drinking a chocolate milk. Before I got to where he was, my friend Natalia stopped me. Summerlin, where are you going?Ó She said, looking concerned. To talk to Chance,Ó I answered, trying to make my way around her. HeÕs been acting so differentÉ I have to ask him whatÕs going on.Ó You mean you donÕt knowÓ Natalia said, pushing her short black hair back behind her ears. He asked Hanna to the Prom a few days ago. My heard didnÕt immediately break after hearing her words. I think part of me expected something like this to be going on, and I was almost ready for the news. OhÉÓ was all I could manage to say. So the walk to lunch on this particular day was a little different than usual. This road block was so much worse than anything that anyone could come up against on a highway. TheyÕll probably be standing there another day too, talking and looking into each otherÕs eyes and smiling. I suppose the walk through this road block will get a little easier each time.
The Road Block
September 1, 2007