All Nonfiction Bullying Books Academic Author Interviews Celebrity interviews College Articles College Essays Educator of the Year Heroes Interviews Memoir Personal Experience Sports Travel & CultureAll Opinions Bullying Current Events / Politics Discrimination Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking Entertainment / Celebrities Environment Love / Relationships Movies / Music / TV Pop Culture / Trends School / College Social Issues / Civics Spirituality / Religion Sports / Hobbies
- Summer Guide
- College Guide
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Personal Experience
- Travel & Culture
- Current Events / Politics
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
- Community Service
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
I slammed the door not having any patience for the hallway either. Walking my usual fast pace towards the elevator button. I press it with my thumb. And don’t have to tap my foot for more than 3 seconds because the elevator has just arrived with a bing. I look, relief, no people. And I walk in pressing L with my thumb. L could stand for so many things, like lilac. That is what the lobby smelled like this week. The fresh flowers always wafting about into areas they know they shouldn’t and making people that feel angry, happy, when they don’t even want to be. We’re in the lobby, and that is too, a hallway for it is the in between to the outside.
I go out the front entrance this time and my nerves go to low heat. I step up onto the boulevard with my ribboned feet. I’m an actress, for this girl looks okay to you. She’s wearing everything she is supposed to. This girl knows what’s up, who’s who. Just a pretty girl, on her way to the park, on Riverside Avenue. Haven’t I done a good job. That is the only thing I can praise myself for so you will have to excuse me. High rise jean shorts that are just the right amount of jean and just the right amount of soft. A loose ivory blouse with no jewelry, someone to blend in, yet be noticed. That would be me. I choose to take the ramp down, even me with all my acting, can’t act going down stairs with 3 inch wedges. I swing my brown leather bag by my pinky. And precede my catwalk down, my friends always comment on just how many guys look at me on the street. They always ask how I never notice. I could never answer; maybe it was because I was lost in my own little town. By the beach, and the sand, with the cute boys who are into romance and not just sex. And I have a dad.
I reach the bottom of the ramp, where in my little town, I’m still at the top. I walk down to my usual spot, where the red brick connect with the concrete and stop. Closing my eyes and telling myself, no there will be nobody here. There is no one ever here that is interesting. Not that I would stop to introduce myself to anyone. But secretly I wish that I would meet someone here that really knows how I feel. Your whole life can’t be a stage you know. I sigh at the stupid thought every time and walk down the long pier. Not that much wind I see, slows at the edges of spring? I get ¾’s down and walk lazily over to the silver bar. I lean in a pout; I guess this is what Vivianna Capulei does, on her Saturday mornings out. Sorry for all the rhyming by the way, poetry has always made seem kind of cliché. My toe vertical with the red brick, me drawing imaginary circles in the water so below. I look over to see the people. Something I had been aching to observe. A few college girl bike riders, an old man staring at the water, and … a guy. An actual, attractive…very attractive, guy. I look away, I don’t look at people. They look at me. My guard was down; he must have seen who I really was. He couldn’t have… nobody’s that good.
“What’re you in for?” He said.
Flustered, “Excuse me?” I said.
“I mean, why are you at the pier?”
“For any other reason, enjoying the water.”
“Lots of people take walks in the park you know.”
“Not your lots of people.”
“What do you mean?”
“People like you, the ‘it’ girls, that’s what you look like to me.”
“So what if I am?”
Has he really discovered me so quickly? I dressed normally today, I put on my makeup just fine, how could anyone ever discover? Why was this really hot guy annoying me so much?
“So I’m found out,” I say taking my bag and and slapping it onto my knee for emphasis.
“Pretty much,” He said laughing a little bit.
I smiled with my dimple, the sun reflecting my lipstick just a bit. It didn’t seem to charm him. Or was he a good actor too?
“My turn. Why are you at the pier? If this is such a wasteland for broken hearts?”
“My parents are getting a divorce.”
“Oh. My parents got a divorce a long time ago.”
“How long ago was that?”
“When I wasn’t even a year old.”
“Well then you’ve gotten used to it I suppose.”
“I suppose” I whisper “used to not having him around.”
“Did he leave?”
“Why’d she leave him?”
“He wasn’t the nicest man around. You know?”
“Do you miss him?”
I contemplated how I should answer.
“Just curious,” and changing the subject… “You know you look like a pretty boy yourself. Why are you here? Alone.”
He nailed that one.
“Well I’m not like most guys…you might see it that way on the surface.” He continued, “not many people can relate to me you see, so I come here. Alone.”
“We should make a club,” I said in mid sigh.
“Ahh, but who would join it?”
“That would be pretty obvious…” He said smiling.
Did he think I was cheeky or what? I don’t understand him.
“Well I wouldn’t care if the whole world joined it, I would just want to have a friend that follows onto what I’m saying.”
“And what are you exactly saying?”
“Oh I could go into rants. I’m just regular talking to you so you wouldn’t know.”
He laughed. Was I funny? Well yeah I was funny, but he thought I was funny.
“Do you…have a name? Perhaps?” He said.
“Are you dying to know if I have a name?” I said laughing.
“Oh so you do have a name? Thank god.”
“I don’t know…some people get creative with their names. Like give themselves nicknames or something.”
“No one really ever bothered, I guess.”
“Well I’m going to bother, so your new name is…”
“Actually, I can’t really think of anything better. Your name is so beautiful.”
I blushed. And not a rehearsed one.
“Thank you, now should I think of a name for you or are you going to give me one?”
I didn’t say anything until he burst out laughing. I awkwardly joined in.
“No I’m only joking, it’s Alexi.”
“Much better, I’m kind of in love with that name too.”