Chapter 4 Sydney – Creative Differences
Chapter 4
Sydney – Creative Differences
I waited in the library for Austin. My favorite chair, at my favorite table in the back, right next to the windows overlooking the courtyard. As the birds flew back and forth, they called to each other. I finished reading a section of The Extraordinary Life of Sam Hell 2 for my literature class. Then, I pulled out my journal, found a blank page, and began writing.
I’ve been writing my thoughts and feelings in journals since sixth grade. My mom bought me my first journal as a birthday gift. The creamy pink reminded me of strawberry ice cream. The bottom drawer of my dresser held my journals, thirteen of them, each one filled to the brim with my thoughts and feelings at various stages in my life. I wrote poems or copied down quotes I liked from books and magazines. I didn’t exclude anything, but I didn’t share it with anyone. Being able to get it all on paper made me feel better.
I scrawled my thoughts and wandered off in my own daydreams. When Austin tapped me on the shoulder. I jumped a little in my seat. He needed to stop doing that to me.
“Whatcha doing? You ready to go?”
“Yes. You caught me daydreaming.” I blushed without knowing why I felt embarrassed.
“Let’s get going. I’ve got a shift at Burger Burger in an hour.” He stood there, wearing his high school letterman jacket, holding his backpack on one shoulder.
“That works out perfectly. My shift at the bookstore starts in thirty minutes.” I dropped my journal in my backpack and zipped it. “Let’s rock n roll.”
He took the lead, and I struggled to keep up with his long strides. By the time we got to the car, I decided I’d had my exercise for the day. He opened the back door and tossed his backpack on the seat. I went to do the same and noticed that we carried the same backpack.
I slid into the passenger seat and shut the door. I couldn’t help myself: “What are you doing carrying a girl’s backpack?” I teased.
He backed out of the parking space and headed towards the parking lot exit. “Huh? That’s not a girl’s backpack. It’s purple.”
“That makes it a girl’s backpack.”
He snorted. “In what universe? You’re crazy. You’re carrying a guy’s backpack. No flowers, no frou-frou, no stuffed animals. What’s the matter with you ? That’s the real question.”
I kept digging. “Blue. Black. Camo. Gray. Khaki. Maybe red. Those are guy’s backpacks.”
He didn’t reply and kept his hands firmly on the wheel at ten and two. His stiff jawline made me chuckle.
“Oh, come on! Don’t be so serious! I’m messing with you, that’s all. Are you that sensitive? I just find it humorous that we have the exact same backpack.”
He glanced at me, then back at the road. “No. Sorry. You caught me in a bad mood. I can’t get the effect I want with the wood burner for this project I’m working on, and it’s making me angry. I don’t have a lot of time left to finish it, and I’m not keen on spending time on it outside of class if I don’t have to, if you catch my drift. ”
“I can certainly understand about stressing over schoolwork. I know there are people you can joke with and those you can’t. My older sister Brooke is not a joker, unfortunately. She’s a typical firstborn child: rule follower, parent pleaser, and wound tighter than a spool of thread.”
“I guess I should feel fortunate I’m an only child then.”
“She has her moments. She’s eight years older than me, and we have a tough time relating to each other. Thanks again for giving me a ride. I appreciate it.”
“No problem. Hey, my buddy Danny said you two went out over the weekend.”
“We did. We had fun. I like him. He asked me to go out again. We might do that this weekend, but we haven’t made any plans yet.”
“You like him, huh?” He glanced at me briefly before returning his attention to the road.
My cheeks flushed without my permission. “I’m not going to bare my soul, if that’s what you’re looking for.”
“He’s a good guy. We’ve been friends for a long time. He’s not quite the ladies’ man that I am.” He winked at me.
This guy will not quit. “Let’s change the subject.”
“Okay. I figured maybe we could discuss our…”
“Look out!” I shouted. As we rounded the bend, a black dog stood in the middle of the road. Austin slammed on the brakes and swerved to avoid hitting the Labrador. I reached out and held onto the dashboard, bracing for impact as the car jolted to an abrupt stop. He yanked on the emergency brake and got out to investigate.
I rolled down my window. “Is everything okay?” I really really didn’t want to see if he’d hit the dog.
He scanned the horizon, turning this way and that. He shook his head and returned to the driver’s seat. “No dog. We must have missed him. But it seems like a mirage because I don’t see a trace of him anywhere.” He skimmed the surrounding landscape again, not finding the dog.
“I am officially spooked. What do we do now?” I wondered aloud.
“Nothing, I guess. Just get you to work safely.”
We rode in silence, each of us shaken up by the event. Austin pulled up in front of the main entrance to the mall and stopped. I got out in slow motion, fetching my backpack from the floor behind my seat as if in quicksand. “Thanks again for the ride. I’ll see you tomorrow in class. Drive safely. ”
I walked into the mall in a trance. Talk about a scary moment! I tried to brush it off as I walked down the hall, pushing my adrenaline down into my toes. I stopped to get a pretzel with nacho cheese sauce and a Coke. Unzipping the front pocket of my backpack, I reached in to grab my wallet, but couldn’t feel its familiar shape. I yanked the flap open to see better. Pencils, a pack of gum, a small bottle of Tylenol, a box of guitar picks, a calculator, and an open bag of Cheetos. Aw, crap—I’d picked up the wrong backpack. How did this…oh. The dog. Our backpacks must have shifted when he stopped for the dog. Fantastic. I was out of luck getting a snack.
Then I had an idea. I dug around his backpack, hoping he kept his wallet in his backpack instead of his pants pocket. I’d pay him back. But no luck there, either.
Journal Entry
Getting to work today got a little scary. A dog appeared in the middle of the road, and Austin had to swerve to miss it. But when we stopped to look for the dog, it was like it had been a mirage. Kind of spooky. I’m glad I already had my homework finished, or I would be sweating it to finish before French class tomorrow.
The dog incident shook us both up, and we didn’t get a chance to discuss our project as planned. Time keeps ticking and I hope we can figure out something that won’t be an amateur disaster. More to come on that....
2 DUGONI, ROBERT. Extraordinary Life of Sam Hell . CENTER POINT PUB, 2023.