My entire life, I have always wanted real, best friends. The kind that are always there for each other. The kind that could stay up late for hours discussing shared interests. The kind that pushed each other toward purpose and encouraged each other to become the best they could be. Other than my relationship with Micah, it never worked out. I’d given up on that dream. This experience was a big part of the reason why.
This high school was a “Christian” private school so once or twice a week we would all go sit in a chapel service for a few hours. Most of the kids used it as a time to sleep or socialize, especially during the worship sections. On a particular day, I was feeling especially lonely, as introverts often do. On top of that, I was sad about my lack of courage and inability to hold even a normal conversation with the girl I liked. I was too afraid to even open a text message from her. It was bad, and it didn’t help that she sat right in front of me in chapel. To make matters worse, her friends were assigned seats on both sides of me, so I often had to endure her looking through me as she bestowed her friends with the attention I so desperately craved.
On that day, it just hit me, and it hurt like a ton of bricks. I didn’t have any friends there. And it wasn’t just there, I didn’t have any real friends anywhere. Not by my standards at least. There was nobody I would be comfortable sharing my feelings with during tough times. Nobody I looked forward to sharing my day with or sending a funny meme. Nobody who really cared if I showed up to school the next day or not. As I looked out at the crowd, I saw nothing but names and faces who I occasionally shared a shallow greeting with.
I was devastated.
I tried my best to hold it in, but as I burst into tears, my embarrassment from crying in the first place only added fuel to the fire. I was a man, and men never, ever cry. My dad wouldn’t cry over something like this. He would tough it out and put the team on his back like he always does.
You would expect somebody around me to say something, right? I was surrounded by people and 99.5% of them were not enraptured by the sermon. Nobody even gave me a look as I cried my eyes out for what had to have been at least half an hour. The girl of my dreams still looked past me as she chatted it up with her friends.
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My suspicions were correct. In that place, I was completely and utterly, alone.
The dream woke me up bright and early on the first morning of my new life. I was filled with dread as I wondered whether this was going to be a great experience like Milliard said, or if it was just going to be more of the same. It was 3:45 am. At least I have a few more hours before this thing starts. I stared at the ceiling. I guess I don’t know when class starts, huh?
Last night when we walked to the academy, Milliard enthusiastically shouted at a few drowsy, aggravated administrators, and the next thing I knew, I was in fresh new apparel inside my cool new lodgings. I assume somebody will come wake me up and teach me about first day proceedings. I drifted back to sleep.
BANG! BANG! BANG!
“Wake up sleepy head! You’re going to be late on your first day!” A voice shouted from the other side of my door.
I was drowsy and dazed. I leapt up and stared at the clock. It was 3:50 am. What the hell? There’s just no way....
“Is this a joke or something? It’s like 4 o’clock in the morning!”
CRASH!
Milliard burst through my door, and it exploded into splinters. “Nope! Fitness 1 starts at 4am! Let’s go!”
“What the...alright give me a second to change and brush my…”
“There’s no time!” Milliard vanished before my very eyes. He reappeared in various spots around my room as he grabbed each of my things. Suddenly, I was being slung over his shoulder once again as he sprinted out of the room. He beamed into a mirror and before I knew it, we were in an unknown hallway. I didn’t pass out this time which was a plus. My clothes were still reduced to ash as I doubled over and threw up though.
“There’s no time for vomit! Here’s the restroom and your stuff! It’s 3:52! Get changed and meet me outside those doors! You’ll see everyone else when you get there! I’ve got one more person to pick up!” He vanished.
That bastard…
I sprinted into the bathroom and performed a historically fast morning routine. I dashed out to the nearby field, and to my surprise, I saw a bunch of students lounging around. Boys sat on the ground in social circles being entirely too loud for 4 in the morning. One black guy was moving from group to group chatting, and everyone seemed to enjoy his presence. Our athletic uniforms were all the same, and they weren’t what would usually come to mind when you thought of workout attire. They were black, oversized, baggy, cotton t-shirts with knee-length shorts. This was a really great choice of uniform design in my opinion because it helps keep students from being distracted by each other’s bodies. The shirts read. “Break YOUR Record Today!”
Milliard was in the center of the field conversing with a shorter, extremely buff man. He was an African American of the light skinned variety with bright orange eyes. If his height didn’t hold him back, and he didn’t walk with a limp, he could definitely play middle linebacker. He was very athletic, and his musculature rivaled even Milliard’s. He wore a crimson, sleeveless hoodie, and a matching pair of track pants. He seems kind of familiar. As I approached them, I noticed that he wore a golden cross chain that resembled Milliard’s.
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