Pinhole
Copyright© 2022 by Fanlon
Chapter 2
Mom and Dad questioned me all through dinner about my first day of high school and didn’t relent until I told them I needed to go do my homework. Dad raised an eyebrow at me, giving me a questioning look but I just went to my room and shut the door. I didn’t really have homework, and I am sure Dad knew that, but it stopped the questions about girls and new friends Mom kept peppering me with. I mentioned wanting to ride the bus in the mornings, so I wasn’t late to school. Mom quickly brushed that aside before Dad and I could even talk about the merits of the idea. He did give me a sympathetic look and I groaned inwardly. I spent the rest of the night like any other fourteen-year-old ... on the internet and playing video games.
My bedroom was pretty standard, as far as bedrooms go, light blue walls, with gray carpet and a good-sized closet that I threw all of my stuff in. My room was furnished with a bed, dresser, nightstand, the usual stuff. I had a couple Husker football posters on the walls and even one of Kelly from Saved by the Bell. It was not just any poster, it was the Kelly Kapowski poster, the one with the black suspenders. I have a huge crush on her. I may have had more than a few late-night sessions while imagining what it would be like if she were in my room in real life. I had a computer desk and a new Gateway computer with the biggest monitor I could get that I set up under my bedroom window. The last thing in my room was an old TV that I had hooked up to either my Nintendo 64 or my Sony PlayStation.
I spent the whole night on my computer and checking out the window to see if the neighbor boys ever came out to play in the lot across from the house. Usually at least three of us would meet there in the afternoons, or just after dinner. No one ever showed up today though.
I was having a bout of déjà vu. Sitting in the passenger seat, I was waiting for our turn to stop so I could go inside. The clock read 7:49 and I was going to be late ... again. Mrs. Peterson was not going to be pleased at all.
I was ready early in the morning. I ate breakfast with Dad around 6:30 and he was quickly out the door when he finished and left me to do the dishes. It was around 6:50 when Dad left every day, and today was no different.
“Mom, I’m going to be late!” I yelled from the kitchen as I closed the dishwasher.
“I’m almost done, one minute!” I heard her respond.
One minute turned into nearly forty-five minutes. I just sat on the living room couch, my backpack resting between my feet waiting. When she finally emerged, I knew we were going to be late. Even with a police escort, we wouldn’t make it in time.
“Let’s go Josh,” she called out, going into the garage where her van was parked. “You’re going to be late!” Yeah, I know. I already told you that!
I climbed into the van with my backpack between my feet on the floor. I buckled up and was ready to go. Mom started the van, hit the garage door button on the visor and then took another two minutes checking her hair and makeup in the mirror. I was about to lose my mind. I am not too proud to admit I sighed overly dramatically and threw myself back into my seat.
“What’s wrong with you?” Mom’s voice was laced with anger at my little outburst.
“I am going to be late, and you are checking your makeup!” I didn’t realize my mistake until after it was all on the table. Or dashboard, in this situation.
“Joshua Davis!” Oh shit.
“Sorry,” I murmured, already knowing I had messed up. “It won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t.”
Mom didn’t say another word on the drive to school. Not even as we got backed up waiting in the long line of vehicles dropping off their students so they could broaden their horizons in the classroom.
“Bye Mom,” I said as I jumped out of the van with my backpack in my hand before it even came to a full stop.
“Have a good day, honey!” I waved over my shoulder as I ran to the front doors which were held open and into the main floor central hallway.
I was late to Social Studies, but only by a few seconds and I managed to slip in with a group of students who were just walking in as I skidded to a halt.
“Mr. Davis, cutting it close, aren’t we?” I heard Mrs. Peterson say as I took my seat. I smiled embarrassingly and got out my notebook and pencil. She didn’t say any more about it, but I definitely had her attention now, and I had a sneaking suspicion I would have it the whole semester. By the time the bell rang signaling it was time to run to my next class, I had three pages full of notes and none of them seemed important.
As the day wore on, I got more and more excited for photography class after lunch. Mr. Watts’ jokes and overall goofiness was perfect. He made learning ... fun. I hated Social Studies. Mrs. Peterson was okay, but I just didn’t care about the class. Spanish with Ms. Martinez was alright, I guess. If I had the choice, I wouldn’t take a foreign language, but it was a requirement to graduate. The only reason I paid any attention was because Ms. Martinez was in her mid-twenties and gorgeous. Not to mention her accent...
Then there was gym class with Mr. Larson. He was the varsity football coach and was trying to recruit everybody in class to go out for the team, even some of the girls. I was five feet tall, and eighty-five pounds soaking wet. I had no business on the football field, none whatsoever. I was a twig that would be broken in half, and I was smart enough not to put myself in that position. Not that I didn’t like football. I loved it. Especially Husker football on Saturdays. I had been to countless games in Memorial Stadium, and I loved every single one.
Lunch was ... well lunch. The school was so big that they had converted the old gymnasium big enough to hold two full basketball courts into a cafeteria overflow. The backboards and rims were still mounted on the walls. No one went to the actual cafeteria; they didn’t have pizza like the overflow did. A local pizza joint sold slices of pizza for cheap, one slice and a pop was $2.00. The pizza was good, really good, but you had to get there early if you wanted anything other than cheese. The hamburger or pepperoni went fast.
When it finally came time for me to go to photography, I was almost running through the halls in anticipation. When I got to the classroom, I could see the light was on, but no one was inside. I figured it was probably okay that I was there a minute or two early and went inside and took a seat at the desk I had chosen yesterday.
“Hello? Is it already time for class?” I heard Mr. Watts say before a strange round door spun open and he stepped out carrying a large worn-out cardboard box full of cameras. He saw me sitting in my chair and he glanced at the clock. I was a couple of minutes early. “Oh, you’re early. Sorry, I was in the darkroom and didn’t think anyone would be here for a bit yet. You know the class doesn’t start for a few minutes, right?” I just nodded, looking at the box in his hands quizzically.
“Is it okay that I’m here early?” I asked, getting up in case I needed to go.
“Oh, it’s fine,” he said as he dropped the big tattered old box that looked like it was more tape than cardboard on his desk at the front of the room.
“What’s in the box?” I asked, not sure what I was supposed to say, if anything at all.
“Oh these?” Mr. Watts said, picking up one of the cameras and then grabbing a second as he checked them over. “These are for class. I decided to skip Ansel Adams ... for now. I think you all will appreciate his work and his eye for detail a lot more when you know what he had to do to create it. Besides, this is a photography class, how can you have a photography class and not take any pictures!” He crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue out the side of his mouth and I laughed, which made him grin.
“Yeah, you’re—” right. I was cut off by the bell and in moments the small class started filing into the room and taking their seats.
Jasen and Tommy both gave me a thumbs up and a big smile, with each twin showing off a mouth full of braces. At least they didn’t have the headgear anymore. I couldn’t remember a time when they weren’t wearing braces now that I thought about it. Jasen and Tommy sat down in their seats, which were side by side right in front of me. Laura sat down in her seat two desks over to my left. She was wearing dark jeans and a black Metallica shirt with her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She looked amazing, but I wasn’t about to announce that to the class. I was looking for the right time to talk to her, but so far I hadn’t found one.
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