Michael was awakened by short raps on his bedroom door. He could hear Joseph getting ready for school, and sun shone through the windows. Rosa's head poked into the room, awakening him from a deep slumber as she announced breakfast. Michael was left to dress in privacy, and the smell of toast became stronger as he headed down the hall. Aunt Maude and Joseph were talking at the kitchen table, and Carlos turned over the newspaper with a heavy cough as Michael entered the room. Michael served himself two eggs and link sausages, hastily eating, trying to avoid conversation.
"Slow down, chico," Aunt Maude demanded, watching him from across the table. "Or else you'll end up in the nurse's office at school." Michael obeyed. Lately Aunt Maude had garnered some of his respect, especially after their talk last night. Even though he hadn't said much, he listened to every word and he had a feeling she knew she got the message across to him.
The cracking of the doorbell unexpectedly chimed through the apartment. Everyone froze for a second. It was abnormal for anybody to visit them. Rosa and Carlos had this thing about not allowing their address to go public primarily for the fact that they were living illegally in the country. For a few more seconds nobody moved, until the doorbell rang again. Finally, Michael scuttled out of his seat and made for the door, but Carlos large frame blocked his path and he cautiously opened the door.
A familiar girl's voice fluttered into the apartment, "Is Michael around?" Macy Danish, a friend of his, asked. Before Carlos could respond, Michael pushed in front of him to greet Macy. She beamed ear to ear when he appeared. In one arm she was holding her school books. "Is this a bad time," she asked in a low voice, glancing over Michael's shoulder and into the kitchen.
He shook his head, dashed back inside, grabbed his school bag and without saying goodbye to the others he joined Macy. They walked to school together. A somewhat bitter wind came from the east, and Macy prophesied rain. One moment the sun was in their eyes, the next they were almost blown over by the wind.
"You probably don't remember agreeing to walk to school with me," she laughed, pushing her brown hair out of her eyes, but the wind blew it right back. "At the party we got on the subject of your family and where you lived. To refresh your memory, I live a block down."
Michael glanced down at his feet, grinning. "I can honestly I do not remember any of that." They both had a good laugh. "But I'll tell you what, it was a pleasant surprise to actually have someone walk me to school. Adam lives in the opposite direction so we can never walk together."
They got on the conversation about Adam and that carried them all the way to school. It was Monday, probably one of the worst days of the week, next to Tuesday. Michael could name several hundred other places he would rather be right now and he started naming them to Macy as they pushed through the front doors.
"At a party getting plastered," came Adam's voice from behind them. "You haven't named that one, yet." He was dressed in jeans and a hooded NYU sweatshirt. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets and he smiled brilliantly at Michael and then to Macy. For some reason neither of them mentioned to Adam that they walked to school together. It was really no secret that Adam had some kind of infatuation for Macy.
"While completely disowning your family," she added.
"Non-biological family," Michael corrected her. "Please do not associate me with them. I only live with them because I need a place to stay and besides they're the ones that do the disowning," he winked.
The three of them meandered their way through the crowded hallways of their school and stopped at their lockers. Adam leaned up against them; his one leg perched up like a flamingo. "By the way, Michael, I should tell you that my mother was concerned about you yesterday. Thought you were deadly ill 'and that scar on his face!'" he mimicked in a high pitch tone.
Michael kicked his locker shut. "Yeah, well, everyone seems to worry about me recently. According to Aunt Maude it's because I give them reasons to worry. I can't deny that, either." It seemed that his whole life was this-a round of mooching, drinking and lay-ups. He laughed as he talked of it, taking it all for a tremendous joke.
"Dude, each weekend you consume an incredible amount of alcohol and then walk home. I'm not siding with them," he said quickly, noting the look on Michael's face. "I'm just saying that starting Friday night and probably ending this morning you practically swim in a pool of beer."
"I actually read a study that says binge drinking is healthier than drinking every other weekend," Macy chimed in holding the classroom door open for them. "You can accept that theory or not, I'm just saying."
The three of them had physic as their first class and they always shared the same lab table in the back of the room. Michael liked this table for one particular reason; Dylan sat at the table a few ahead of him. Today, however, he couldn't help but to wonder if it would be awkward between him Dylan.
"Oh Jesus, he's still hung over," Adam said, punching Michael's shoulder. "Oye! Were you even paying attention? Please don't tell me that you are still not coherent, because the other night was the first and last time I carry you anywhere."
Michael shook his head. "It's just a Monday morning, that's all." He shifted position on his stool, glancing around the room. There was no sign of Dylan, yet, still he was becoming anxious. Their teacher, Professor Gordis, an ancient man who was about to bite the dust any moment, sauntered into the room, placed his briefcase on the front desk and smiling feebly around the class room gave a good morning in his habitual soft tone.
Next to Michael, Adam slouched on his stool and placed his head on the table. "Everyday I pray to the lord that he won't show up for class and it will be canceled," he muttered in a helpless tone. He began to bang his head off the table. "And every single day he has to show up. When will he die?"
Macy smacked Adam and gave him and Michael, who had smirked at Adam's crudeness, a disapproving look. "I think he is an intelligent teacher, filled with wisdom and a lot of insight to life." She sat up right in here chair, but Michael knew she felt this way because she was getting an A in the course, while Adam was juggling between a D and a C.
"Mr. Liebowitz," a soft voice said from behind them. All three of them jump, especially Adam. Sure enough their teacher was standing behind them, squinting through his bifocals at Adam. "Do you feel ill?" Unable to find his tongue, Adam shook his head from side to side. Smiling only with his thin lips, Professor Gordis patted Adam's shoulder, "good, because it would be a shame if you missed today's lesson." With that said and done they watched as he proceeded to the front of the classroom.
Adam resumed his position. "Great," he muttered, "he probably heard the death threat. Sneaky son-of-a-bitch." Macy hit him again, as they began bickering Michael's eyes wandered the room.
His eyes stopped scanning when the classroom door opened once more and Dylan strolled into the room with two of his buddies. Michael felt a funny fluttering feeling inside of him. Dylan's eyes reached the back of the room for just a second, but that was long enough. Michael could tell that Dylan's eyes smiled slightly at the sight of Michael. He watched as Dylan slid onto his normal stool. His tight Ron Jon shirt slid up a little as he leaned forward on the lab table, revealing his white boxer briefs and the waistband that read, "Jockey" across them. Michael took a mental image and saved it for later.
Either on purpose or unknowingly, Michael did not know, Dylan stayed that way for the majority of class, which completely distracted Michael from the lecture. He kept on gazing at Dylan's underwear for a lengthy period of time until Adam would let out a groan that signified he did not understand anything that was being said.
At one point he leaned in closer to Michael. "What the hell is Gordis trying to tell us?" he asked in a harsh whisper. Michael shrugged his shoulders and looked down at his own notes. There was the word "Inertia" written on the top with a few bulleted notes and random drawings.
Suddenly Macy shoved a page of her notes under Adam's nose while demanding that he shut up. This seemed to satisfy him, as he stayed quiet until the bell rang. "I just can't do morning classes," he explained as they left class. Half listening, half not, Michael watched Dylan's retreating back disappear down the hallway. "Maybe I should just drop and replace it with a study hall."
"You could do it if you actually listened," Macy retorted hotly. "I mean Michael and I listen and we're doing fine."
"Yeah and along with listening, you have to stop making death threats towards the teacher," Michael added, elbowing Adam. Dylan was now out of sight, but not out of mind. Still he wondered how long he could play this charade with him. Get drunk, have sex, and then not speak until they're drunk again.
Michael mused over this as they wandered through the school. Macy went her own way once they got near the library.
"What has she got to study for?" Adam said in a near outraged tone. Unable to answer this question, Michael remained silent and just agreed with whatever complaints his friend was rattling off.
Then the luck changed as though by a miracle. They were walking towards their study hall through the now deserted hallways, as the late bell had already rung, when suddenly, they rounded the corner and collided harshly with an oncoming student late for class.
Before any three of them knew it books were airborne. Adam cursed as he was sent reeling back against the wall. Michael scrambled to pick up the fallen books and realized when he looked up that his head was directly at the zipper of someone's jeans. His vision followed up the person's body and met eyes with Dylan. Michael's eyes dropped directly down to the zipper and could have sworn there was some kind of stiffness forming, but he never got a chance to finalize it.
"Oh, dude, I am so sorry," Adam said, joining Michael in picking up the books.
Dylan waved away his apology and bent slowly down to the ground and picked up the last of his books. "I'm always late for this class in any case. It's my fault for being so hasty. Take care, guys," without looking back he hurried off down the hallway.
"You know," Adam started slowly, "I always thought he was a jerk, but I guess that's why they say you shouldn't judge people without knowing them."
But Michael's mind was elsewhere. He was almost positive that Dylan's jeans had tented slightly. He kept on playing that scene over and over again wishing it would happen one more time.