Chapter 1: A Week in the Life

Monday

Monday, I wake up.

Tuesday, I wake up.

Wednesday, I do the same.

Thursday, I do the same.

Friday, it happens again.

Saturday, it happens again.

Sunday, one more time.

Monday, I wake up.

The world is built on cycles. Time cycles. No matter what happens, from the minute I wake up, I'm always assured that I will go to sleep. I am never afraid that I won't wake up the next morning. My life is built on cycles. I wake up, I sleep. Everything in between is filler smushed between book ends.

This particular Monday I know exactly what is going to happen. I'm going to wake up. Shower, look at my fat ass in the mirror, wish I could be better, take no active attempts to be better, and eat breakfast. This is followed by driving my sister to school. Attending classes. Talking with my 'friends.' Eating lunch. More classes. Maybe talk to a pretty girl. Go to work. Stand around all day waiting for customers. Yada. Yada. Yada. This will be followed by sleep. The bookend of the day, simultaneously giving birth to a new one.

Of course that's just the basic plot of the day. I don't know exactly WHAT will happen, but I know the goddamn routine. Its like watching an episode of CSI or NCIS. A crime will happen, and it will be solved by the end of the hour. You don't need to know what happens in between. Just knowing the ending is boring enough.

So lets actually live the day. My alarm goes off. Of course I'm already awake. Most of the time I spend at least ten minutes staring up at my ceiling before the alarm rings. That is on account of my sister, Allison, being in the shower which is conveniently located right next to my room.

I wait for her to leave the bathroom before I get out of bed. Every bone in my body creaks and aches like an old house ready to collapse. I grab clothes out of the dresser, and slowly work my way out the door, turn right, and head into the door five feet from my own.

Lock the door, throw the clothes on the sink, get undressed, turn the knobs, wait for hot water, give up on waiting for hot water, take cold shower. Shampoo, body wash, soak, turn knobs again, get out of shower, reach for towel, no towel to reach for, search the laundry for the towel I used the day before. Brush teeth, put on glasses, mouthwash, shave, put on clothes, and apply deodorant. I wish it could be more in depth than that, but mornings are always disconnected sounds and pictures for me. Nothing really flows together smoothly.

“Melon! I made pancakes!” My sister yells from downstairs. Mmmm. Allison can make a mean pancake when she puts her mind to it. I meander down the stairs to the dinner table, and she already has three pancakes stacked on a plate for me.

“Thanks,” I grunt.

“No problem,” she replies with a smile before setting another plate full of pancakes at the end of the table, and a third for herself across from me.

I greedily stuff my face full of food slowly beginning to finally wake up. An awkward silence hangs in the air over the table. Allison barely picks at her own food. “Dad's already gone isn't he?” I nod in reply. She gets up and puts Dad's plate on the counter and comes back. “Is it good?”

Once more I nod my head. With one last fork full, my pancakes are gone. Sitting back I look at my sister. She put her hair up today. Some of the blondest you could ever see. Never acts like a ditsy blond though. Part of why I love her.

Suddenly I'm sitting in the car. I buckle up to silence the annoying beeping sound that the car gives when you aren't buckled. Allie follows suit and suddenly we're driving. Pulling out of the driveway we reach the first stop sign and I look over at her. She's got her earbuds in. I wonder what kind of music she listens to now. She never talks about it, or I never ask.

Suddenly we're in the parking lot of the school. Its so funny how your mind can go completely blank and you can't remember how you got from point A to point B. That memory is gone, along with whatever else your brain doesn't need anymore.

Allie is out of the car before the car is turned off. With a door slam she's gone. “Bye sis,” I mutter before I turn the key and kill the engine. I put my head back against the seat. Lets take a second. A break. We are about to head into the wolves den. Can you handle it today Melon? 'Course you can, no matter what you do or how you think, your going to be walking towards that school. Walking in that school, out of that school, into work, out of work, into bed, and out of bed. You can't control it Melvin. So why not get this fucking over with and open the goddamn door.

Tuesday

I open the door, and once more I step out of my vehicle onto the parking lot of our wonderful educational institution. Hand in pockets, head down, my feet carry me towards the school. I walk passed some girls, and as I pass by I hear giggling. Its probably not about me, but when you're fat it isn't the actual jokes that hurt you...its just the paranoia of them happening.

I pass the edge of the school building, turn right, and suddenly the entrance is in my view. As well as my two best friends in the whole wide fucking world. Harold and Jack. They lean against the school building, Jack eyeing the girls that walk by, and Harry focused on his 3DS.

“Hey guys,” I say as I reach them.

“Hey buddy,” Jack replies with a nod. Harold simply grunts a response and continues with his game. “You need to talk with your sister,” Jack demands pulling forward away from the building.

“Why would I need to do a thing like that?”

“Because you never do and its pissing her off,” Jack answers. I shrug. “Yeah, I don't know why either. You're not exactly the type for stirring conversational topics.”

“Okay, its not just me not talking to her. Its her not talking to me. Its us not talking to each other. Our family has a problem with that. Fuck I haven't heard from my brother since he got the deputy gig. Can't remember the last time I talked with Pop about anything other then my grades.”

Jack throws his hands up in the air. “Don't yell at me about it, yell at your sister about it. She went off on ME about it last night after the movie. With the way you and your sister talk to me, I'd HATE to meet your old man and brother.”

“His brother is a nice guy, his Dad is an asshole,” Harry finally interjects into the conversation. He closes the DS and slips it into his pocket before pulling away from the building himself.

“You met his brother?” Jack asks.

“Yeah, who do you think I had to see to get my Dad out of the drunk tank last week?”

“Oh.” An uneasy silence is reached. Finally we all turn and head towards the entrance to the school, Jack leading us on. I keep my head down and push forward. Like always. I look to my right. Harold looks the same as usual. Depressed, nerdy, and more than a little spiteful to the world around him. He doesn't do anything with his hair, doesn't wear any special clothing. Just a t-shirt and jeans, glasses, and black hair. With the way he looks someone could confuse him with Damian.

Jack on the other hand dresses like a douche. He puts enough conditioner in his hair to kill an elephant, is always wearing expensive brand shirts to show off his wad of cash, and wears shoes that cost more than my fucking car. Its amazing that girls, especially my sister, can fall for guys like that. Its not what on the outside that counts I know, but I don't think he has brain enough to have a personality on the inside. He is programmed to like whatever is expensive and popular.

Me? I'm more like Harold. Spiteful, dress to dress and not for success, dark brown hair, and can be snarky as hell when I put my mind to it. I also seem to have an ongoing commentary of the world that could scare the shit out of a psychiatrist.

Once again I'm amazed that sometimes I find myself in entirely different places from where I started. My brain never shuts up. I don't remember the walk inside the doors, up the stairs, and to our lockers put it happened. It always happens.

Wednesday

For the third day in a row I open my locker. Its messy. Old discarded papers and notebooks line the bottom of the locker, and books are crammed in to the top shelf except for a few that are on the trash below. My backpack remains unused in the locker, mostly for show. The zipper broke last week and I haven't bothered to get a new one.

I reach for a history book off the shelf and pull, but it gets stuck on the side. Moving a book out of the way to give more room, I try once more but it doesn't budge. I've fucking had it! With both hands I pull once. Twice. Thrice and it comes loose and I slide back a few steps. “Whoa!” a girl yells from behind as my body slams in to her. Her books go flying out of her hands and make a SLAP against the tile.

“I am so sorry,” I say turning around and picking up her books. The girl who I recognize as Mrs. Loomis, shakes her head.

“I should have been watching out for flying fruit,” she says chuckling as she bends down and picks up some of her papers. Mrs. Loomis is the extremely young, extremely attractive school nurse that all the horny guys at school want to bang. Including the teachers. She's only twenty-six, but you could mistake her for a senior. She has short red hair, barely goes down to her shoulders, is about as tall as me, and dresses like a teacher ought to. Khakis, dress shirts, dress shoes. Casual Friday's though are a god send to us guys. She wears shorts that barely go to her knees and are tight as-okay, I know. I'm a pervert. But, I'm a guy.

I hand her books to her and she smiles at me. “Thanks,” she says and I smile back. Okay everyone gets one teacher crush, and this one is especially alright for me seeing as she is the youngest one at the school. And a hot nurse. Wish fulfillment. I nod at her and she walks away. I turn to watch her leave. Hmm. Quickly I go back to my open locker, grab my own book that's on the floor in front of it, a notebook and pencil out of the garbage on the bottom, slam it shut, and run to History class.

Entering the room right next to my locker I look around and notice that I'm the first one in here. Fuck. I hate that. Its always awkward being the only one in the room when people walk in. Jack is probably off talking with Allie, and Harold might be talking with his Dad in the science room.

I throw my stuff on the desk in the last row, and farthest corner. Right next to the windows. More fun watching out there than paying attention to class. All the class rooms are around the same size. Not very big, but big enough for twenty desks to fit a class. The only room that's different is the Science room. I don't know what working in an office with cubicles that all look alike would be like, but I can't imagine its much different from being in school.

The bright side is that its too close to the beginning of the year to have assigned seating. We haven't yet pissed off the teacher. Okay except Mr. Drek, but he is easier to piss off than waving a red flag in front of a bull. I pull the chair out and sit down, alternating between staring at the clock and out the window. Eventually my classmates start packing into the room, and a loud ringing explodes throughout the school.

Thursday

Current Issues flies by like usual. Mrs. Stern barely rises above a low mumble in her instructions, obviously as bored as we are. If you weren't already asleep because of how early it is, she can put you down for the count.

At our school, Current Issues entails getting a headline from a newspaper or website, writing a summary and reaction, and sleeping. Okay not all the time. Sometimes when Mrs. Stern is awake we have to discuss what we read and what we thought before handing it in. It blows.

“Any questions?” Mrs. Stern yawns as she finishes handing out her assignments. “Alright, you can go to the library or computer lab.” With that lovely announcement, every guy in the room heads to the computer lab. Always. Without failure. Sometimes a couple girls go, but usually they head down to the library and use the laptops there. Our class doesn't mix together very well.

Across the hall from the History room is the computer lab. Us guys file into the room and one by one take our normal seats. The room is arranged with computers on tables along three of the walls. The wall that the door is attacked to has two tables jutting out of it horizontally, each with a few computers on it.

My normal seat is in the corner on the east wall. Harold sits by me, and our classmate Shaun beside him. Usually Jack sits beside Shaun, but today I think he went to check out the library in hopes that my sister would be there.

The computers themselves are shit. Like most schools. I think the school board found them in one of Dell's landfills. They only have Windows XP installed for godsakes, and even though its functional...come on! We have Windows 7 now! Highlight of this hour: Goofing off on the computers and shitting out a report the next morning.

English is next. Taught by the excruciatingly mundane lesbian, Mrs. Kraken-I uh mean Mrs. Krak. Rhymes with Rake. That wasn't a joke about the lesbian thing either, she is truly a lesbian. Thus proving that our school is progressive. Progressive in odd ways sure, I mean I doubt they would let a gay dude teach here, but lesbians are alright. I don't mind same sex relationships as long as I'm not in them. Highlight of the hour: Sleep.

Followed by P.E. Less said about P.E. the better. Its the class where a fat kid like me gets to be embarrassed in front of the whole class, a wimpy kid like Harold sits out the whole class, or a jock like Jack gets to shine in front of the whole class. Its also where the girls (for better or worse) wear short-as shit-shorts and can't get yelled at for it. Well they do, but the teacher is a pervert so it doesn't matter. Mr. Jameson. I don't truly know if he is a pervert or not, but from the way he talks privately to those girls it wouldn't surprise me. Or he could just be a really nice guy. I can't make the distinction. I'm one of the kids who doesn't shower like the other guys. I just dry off the sweat with a towel and throw mountains of deodorant to cover up the stank. Like I said, its a class meant to embarrass. Highlight of the hour: Playing Kickball and tripping over the ball when going to kick.

Then we have Government. Back in Mrs. Stern's room. Mrs. Stern is usually a little bit more lively later in the day, so she rises above low mumble and hits the dreaded monotone. In this class we read a section in a book, take notes, and do a worksheet. Today's assignment is, “Page 112. Take notes over every heading in the section, and once your finish I have a worksheet up here for you.” The entire class scowls and moans and Mrs. Stern is just eating it up. Highlight of the hour: Finishing twenty minutes early and playing Pokemon Black on my DS. Doesn't make you popular, but damn does it make you feel like a champion.

Lunch time. This is the time when we eat lunch. Self explanatory. Its also the time when we gather in a social sense and discuss such a breadth of topics such as: Hottest girl today, how long until Jack will nail Allie (never), school is so boring, and my personal favorite, Ford vs. Chevy vs. Dodge. By favorite I was being sarcastic. I hope you can figure that out.

“Okay man, I push my Ram to the limit, Ford ain't got no hemi, and the Chevy's wish they can pur like my engine!” Lester yells. An appropriately redneck name for an appropriately redneck person.

“They call it Dodge because it dodges quality every time, I bet your Dodge can't take as much dirt as my Ford!” Shaun yells back at Lester.

“Boys, boys, obviously the answer is Chevy, because Melon has a Chevy, and Melon would never buy something that sucked. So Melon, why did you buy your Chevy?” David turns and asks me. Suddenly all six 

eyes are focused on me.

“It was the cheapest whore on corner,” I reply and suddenly both Shaun and Lester erupt into laughter. David puts his face in his palm and shakes it, wishing I would have backed him up. Highlight of this hour: Eating shitty food that tastes like ass, but gets no where near filling you up.

On to Algebra 2. The thing that I like to focus on in this class is random thought an-fuck it. I don't want to think about this class, I completely shut my brain off during this class, I'm dead during this class, just FUCK THIS CLASS. I think about lightsabers sometimes. There. That's what I think about during Algebra 2. I think about Star Wars, I think about Doctor Who, and for some reason I think about Persona 3! If only because in that game they blow their brains out metaphorically to summon a goddamn demon to destroy their enemies, and thats all well and good but I'd much rather just have the gun and BLOW MY GODDAMN BRAINS OUT during this class. Highligt of the-WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK? NEXT!

Chemistry. Taught by the town's favorite drunk of such legendary proportions, even rivaling the past of my Dad, Mr. Drek. Harold's pop. “Okay class, today...we are going to do science stuff. By that I mean, we are just going to watch Planet Earth. Why? Cause science.” The class cheers in an uproar of approval. Mr. Drek is everyone's favorite teacher. He just doesn't give a fuck. While that may make life hell for Harold, it makes life easy for us. He is also an all around pretty cool dude in my book.

The science room is the biggest classroom in school. Its on the basement level, and just enough above ground that you can see outside a little bit. It has a kitchen to the far right of the room, and the middle is full of lab tables. About eight, two in a row. Each can seat two sets of partners. The room was just redone, so it still looks pretty spiffy. Its gotten filled with all new equipment that we never use, and the tables themselves are of surprising quality. The only thing that wasn't redone was the tile on the floor. In fact, its cracked all over.

Mr. Drek also likes to screw with us students. That is why when school started three weeks ago, he gave us our partners. Boy with girl. Mine WAS Susan, a pretty enough girl, no where near the TV versions of high schoolers, but pretty attractive. Shaun asked to trade with me being as they are dating and all, so now I am stuck with Ann. A chubby Asian girl who recently battled bulimia.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Mr. Drek says before putting in the DVD. “Planet Earth has absolutely nothing to do with Chemistry.” I know where this is going. “Instead I picked up a new DVD class! Breaking Bad Season 1!”

“Woo!” I yell alone, with my fist in the air. I look around and the Class doesn't know what the hell Breaking Bad is.

“Woo?” Jack yells slowly putting his own fist in the air. Suddenly all the guys in class are doing it so I'm not alone. Except Harold. Harold is to cool for that shit. All the girls start giggling, presumably because Jack did it, and the commotion ends when Drek starts the first episode.

“Now class, don't tell anyone that I'm letting you watch a show about making meth. The school board might start looking in to my other job if you know what I mean,” Mr. Drek prefaces with a little smirk on his face. Chemistry is probably my favorite class this year. Highlight of the hour: Watching the dad from Malcom in the Middle parade around in his underpants. This class only slightly falls behind...

ELIPSES! I mean uh, Study Hall! Not as exciting? Oh well. As per the usual for this class, I'm one of the last ones in the room. The room is a punch of desks thrown around with the teacher's desk at the front. Our school has a very odd thing with separation. For the first month or two of school all the guys actually sit with and talk to the girls in the class. Its all like, “Hey baby, I ain't seen you in three months, did you miss my charmingly good looks and beautiful wordsmanship?” Its mating season, and the wolves are on the prowl.

Just wait, come three weeks from now when the guys realize they have no chance the conversations are going to turn too, “Hey do you have the answers to today's math assignment?” Then they will retreat into the Herd and talk about their bad luck with the guys.

Harold walks up behind me and puts his hand on my shoulder. “Hey doesn't that wolf already have a mate?” he asks pointing across the room. Apparently he read my mind about the wolf thing-hey! That wolf does have a mate! I see Jack chatting up Adeline in the corner of the room.

“Be right back, gotta go fend off the predator,” I say. Harold chuckles and presumably finds a desk as I slowly stalk over to Adeline and Jack's little flirt session. Well Jack's flirt session. Adeline doesn't look like she's having any of it. Her nose is trying to be in a book, but Jack's horrific man stank has caught its attention. “Hey Jack, watcha doing?” I ask politely.

Adeline and Jack turn their heads towards me. “Just talking with this lovely lady about how much of a reader I am. She's reading Game of Thrones, and that's like my favorite book, right Mellow Yellow?” I hate when he calls me that. He sounds sure of his words though.

“Yeah I know! Remember that one part when that kid falls off that huge tower? What was his name again? I forget?”

“Me too, god, it really sucked when he died.” With that Adeline giggles and I start laughing with her. “Did I miss the joke?” He asks.

“Go home Jack, your drunk. By the way I think I saw Allie on the way here, damn I think I forgot to tell her something, I'll be right b-” I begin before he stops me. This time Jack gets the hint and waves bye to Adeline before going over and talking to Harold.

“Thank you for saving me Melvin,” she smiles before turning back to her book.

“Any time Adeline,” I say before turning.

“Melon, sit the HELL DOWN!” Mrs. Bitchier (Trapier) screams from her desk. I quickly turn right the fuck back around and sit at the desk in front of Adeline.

“Well I guess you ain't getting rid of me yet,” I say turning to her awkwardly. Adeline bursts out laughing in to her book. Suddenly the whole class is laughing as well, and Mrs. Trapier is forced to scream. Not any words, just a loud, prolonged, scream. We all stop laughing but I turn to look at Adeline and she's trying to hide a smile just as hard as I am.

I can see why Jack would flirt with her though. She is beautiful. Again, not like the high schoolers on TV, but definitely the best looking girl in our class. Long, long blond hair. Blue, blue, eyes. She also wears glasses. Hot girls with glasses. Wish fulfillment. Just a perfect face, like really well proportioned and...I don't know how to describe a girl's face, sorry its hard. I don't look at a girl and see the words that can describe beauty, I just see it. She usually wears yoga pants too and DAMN. Pervert, yeah move on.

“So I take it you've read Game of Thrones?” Adeline asks with a slight tilt of her head. Odd mannerism, but everyone has at least one.

In answer I shake my head. “Nope, watched the show. I've tried to read the book but I got bored.”

“Oh but I love reading. I just got to the part that you were talking about earlier. Bran gets pushed off the tower and somehow lives and starts seeing weird stuff. It HAS been kind of slow though.”

“Then watch the show, its freaking awesome. The second season just ended a little while ago and it was awesome. It follows the books pretty closely from what I've heard too,” I can go on and on about nerdy shit like this. If she turns out to be as nerdy as me its a match made in heaven. Except I'm fat and she's fit. Times where I talk about nerdy things are the only times when I don't feel awkward even though it is really, really odd.

“I don't watch much TV.” Bummer. “Plus I wouldn't know what channel it would be on.”

“HBO.”

“Isn't that one you have to pay for?” I nod my head. “Yeah then hell no.” First time I've ever heard her swear. Adeline has been going here for three years and I don't think I've had this long of a conversation with her. Or really any girl that goes here.

“Well, you don't watch TV, so do you watch movies or anything?” I say trying to slightly change the subject.

“Nope.” Once again, bummer. “Don't have time for that between Volleyball, FBLA, and NHS,” she says listing off her responsibilities. Plus my guardian is kind of a robot.”

“Guardian? Where is your mom and dad?”

She looks down for a second. Either thinking how to answer, or forgetting. Its hard to to tell with the look on her face. Kind of a hard thinking look and not at the same time. “My Mom is dead, and my Dad is in a military.”

“A military?”

“Yeah, he's a general.”

“Oh, cool. Do you see him often?”

She shakes her head and looks down for a second and then starts shaking again before saying, “Lets not talk about my Dad please.” Juicy. Whatever. Respect the pretty lady's wishes. “How about your dad, he's the minister at our church right?”

“Yeah, but now that you mention it, talking about our fathers IS a bad idea. How about something else like...” Do you like long walks on the beach? Why does your hair look so pretty? Wanna make out? “What is your favorite band?”

“Oh!” Adeline says freaking out as she sits up. She looks around and then promptly starts talking with out punctuation, “OHMYGOSH I freaking love TSOD Ten Seconds of Direction is just so freaking awesome I love every guy in it and my favorite guy is Jerry he is so cute and I love his hair and I love that one song oh god it is so awesome it is my favorite song its like they are singing to me you know?”

Ten Seconds of Direction. My mortal enemies. Four guys in a boy band masquerading as a rock band to kill me little by little inside. “Yeah, no. Sorry Adeline, I have lost all respect for you.”

A

deline then smiles and says, “Well Melvin, I'm sorry that you are tone deaf.”

“Scoff,” I scoff. Redundant. “One, Melon or Mel is fine. Two, Ten Seconds of Doodoo in my Ear is the worse thing to happen to radio since Justin Bieber.”

“Well then Mel, I guess our conversation is over.” She says crossing her arms and turning away.

“EVERYONE FIND SOMETHING TO DO OR LEAVE!” Mrs. Trapier screams.

“I guess our conversation ISN'T over,” Adeline says uncrossing her arms and reaching into her book bag right next to her. The class starts laughing again and Adeline gets full on red in the face. “Wanna work on Algebra 2 together?”

I nod. “We may have to share your book and calculator, I only brought my notebook and pencil.”

“Why?”

“I doodle. I'm a doodler. I do the doodle.” I don't doodle. I write stuff sometimes. Not good stuff, but its stuff. Gives me something to do.

She nods and throws her giant ass book bag on the table. Adeline begins pulling out her math book and calculator out and then throws the oversized bag back on the ground. Surprised it didn't leave a crater.

“You good at math?” I ask.

“Not the best, how about you?”

“B+, just show me what you don't get.” She nods and we start working on our math assignment for the rest of the class. Highlight of the hour: Talking to the cutest girl in class. Crap, this is the last class of the day.

The bell rings loudly just as we are on the second to last problem in the assignment. “Thanks for the help Mel,” she says putting her things in her bag. “I could actually use a math tutor, or someone to help me with my assignments more often. Could you you help me tomorrow?”

“Yeah no problem. Beats talking with those squares over there,” I answer motioning to the my Harold and Jack, both of which are heavily involved in watching Harold's DS screen.

She laughs. “No one calls people squares anymore, or so I've heard.”

“Fine its better than talking to those circles over there.”

“No one has EVER called them circles-”

“Fine I guess you don't need help.” Adeline laughs and puts a hand up to silence me.

“Okay, okay, circles works. See you tomorrow.”

Friday

“No, no, no. I'm telling you Star Wars is the only movie you need to watch,” I instruct as Adeline repeatedly shakes her head.

“Why? I don't watch movies, especially science fiction.”

“This isn't just science fiction. Its fantasy, its action, its romance...kind of, not really, but its really damn good and shit.” Having to end a sentence with the phrase, 'and shit?' Good work Melon, she already knows you don't have intelligence why push the point.

“Well maybe after I finish this book, and all the other books,” she says sliding her Game of Thrones into her book bag. We finished Algebra early today. Short lesson, mainly reviewing how to divide both sides. Kind of all Algebra is in general. She was going to read but got sidetracked by my wonderful conversation. If I keep this up I might become a regular Han Solo. Talking to her all the time could make it part of the routine though, and when its part of the routine I start to resent it. Another loud ringing sound and the day is over.

“FRIDAY!” I hear someone scream. Probably Mrs. Trapier. She does that a lot. Adeline gets up and throws her gigantic bag over her shoulder. I'm surprised it didn't pull her arm off.

“See you Monday?” she asks with tilt of her head and a smile.

“Sure.” We both walk out the door and I catch up to Harold who was on his way out the school doors already. Jack is probably at football practice. Or flirting with my sister. Ick.

As I reach Harold he raises his hand up in the air, motioning for a high five. I comply and ask, “What was that for?”

“My little Melon is growing up!” he answers with a sappy voice. “Could it be that you have attracted the attention of one of the prettiest girls?”

“More like my brain has. For all I know she is using me to help with math.”

Harold shakes his head. “In that case she can come to Papa, because I have an A+ in that class. You aren't the best person to be helping her.” I chuckle and shrug. Its a hot day. One of those ones where you just walk outside and are automatically sticky. I wave goodbye to Harold as I reach my car. The worst part about Friday's and the end of school in general. I have to work all weekend.

Saturday

One of the most shocking things about the tiny town of Brightford, is that we have a Blockbuster. We don't have a Walmart, we don't have a Burger King, we have a Blockbuster. A fucking Blockbuster for a town of barely 2,000. Whatever. The pay is good, the building is air conditioned, and it is the laziest job you could ever hope for.

My responsibilities here at Blockbuster revolve around a few menial tasks. First, check people out. This is probably the easiest part of the day. Take the person standing right in front of me for example. “Hi,” I say.

The older woman, around fortyish, hair starting to gray, replies, “Hi, how are you?”

“Pretty good, how bout yourself?”

“Good.”

“Good.” End of conversation. I take their card, I take the case, slap a movie in it, charge them for it, and off they go. Easy. Done.

Next, when the store has thinned out a bit (which is always), I take the movies that have been returned, put the disks behind the counter, and throw the box back on the shelf. If we have new releases, I just have to enter them into the system if they aren't already, and find a place for them on the shelf. Again, easy. That's it. That's my easy job. And I hate every meaningless minute of it. So meaningless they only have to have one person working at a time, and only four people actually work here.

Of course the job does have perks. If it didn't, I wouldn't work here. Mainly, unrestricted access to the TV. The TV here, located in the corner right in front of the checkout, has a Xbox hooked up to it. This is for playing DVDs that management tells me to play, and putting on games for the kiddies to play. Obviously the management never shows up, so I fuck around. All the time. Somedays I watch some random movies, somedays I decide to play one of the new release video games. This and the paycheck are the only reasons I work in this hellhole. It goes slowly. So fucking slowly SO FUCKI-

Sunday

The worst part about my job? Working till close, and then being there the next fucking morning. I don't know who schedules that shit, but fuck them. I stare at the clock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. “I'm here, go home Melvin,” Joey says as he hops over the counter.

“See ya!” I yell practically sprinting out the door.

The drive home goes fast. It always does. When you sit at a boring workplace for eight hours, any movement seems lightspeed afterwords. I pull into the driveway and see that everyone in the house has gone off to church. Dad stopped making me go when I got a job. Truly a godsend. Allison isn't so lucky though. I slam the door behind me as I enter the house.

“WEEK! OVER!” I scream for no real reason when I feel the house's air conditioning. The week isn't over. Nothing is over. It doesn't actually end or begin. Time is time. Flowing on. We are all just caught in its current-My cellphone rings on que. Every Sunday. Six o'clock.

I pull out the phone and slide to answer. “Hey Blair,” I say happily into the phone. Its one part of the routine that doesn't annoy me.

“Hey Melon, how has your week gone?” she asks. I can see her now. Short black hair. Brown eyes. My old best friend. Probably still my best friend.

“Oh you know, same old. You?”

“About the same. How's everyone?”

“I don't know. Sometimes I try to talk to Allie, but it blows up in my face. Vice versa for her. Fuck if I know about Dad, and I haven't heard from brother Michael in about a year.”

I hear the wonderful shy laugh of Blair on the other end of the line. “So same old?”

“Same old,” I laugh. I jog my way upstairs.

“Hey, I have fantastic news!” She squeals excitedly. My Blair. She's a squealer.

“Ooo, don't keep me in suspense!” I squeal back jokingly.

“I'm coming home for a couple of weeks next month!” My jaw is dropped. I haven't seen Blair in person for years. God, probably since a year after my accident.

“Holy shit! That is fantastic! Your Mom is letting you come home?” Blair lives with her Mom in California. Her Dad lost custody on account of not being able to afford to have her. I know her Dad, and I saw how much it hurt him. Maybe he has enough money now?

“Yup, Dad said I could come for a couple weeks, I am so freaking happy! I can't wait to see Allie. I want to hear when you tell her, no wait, I want to surprise her when I get there...No, I've got it, drive her out to the Wasteland, and I'll be waiting!” Blair, full of surprises and indecisive.

“Okay, perfect. Can't wait to see you! Just wait till you see Harry, he turned into a nerdy emo git.”

“I FORGOT ABOUT HARRY! Ohmygosh, does he still do that thing where when he gets nervous he starts humming a random song?”

“Yup, just last week he had a report to present and he was practically singing Heart-Shaped Box.”

“I don't know that one, but I can't wait to see him. Bring him out there too. Also bring that girlfriend that you definitely have by now, and your brother!”

“Girlfriend? Your the only lady that I need Blair.” Smooth Melon, smooth.

I hear Blair let out a nervous giggle. I bet her face is so red right now. It always got red as a stop sign when she was embarrassed. “I gotta go, call you next Sunday, bye!”

“Yeah, bye.” I hang up the phone. Blair is coming home. Blair. BLAIR! “WOOOOO!” I scream throwing my phone at the bed. It hits the mattress and bounces off onto the floor. “Sorry baby!” I yell at my Iphone.

This high of excitement carries me through the night. Through dinner alone, through playing Xbox with Harold (whom I managed not to tell), through my nighttime shower, and finally right to when I hit the pillow. Maybe my routine will change. Maybe it'll all be worth when she gets here. Maybe everything is going to be different from now on. Maybe everything is going to be better. Maybe-

Monday

I wake up. Nothing has changed.