The Last Minute

         When I wake up, I am still oblivious to everything around me. I can only see what I need to in order to get ready for school. Today is alike and different in some ways. Physically, everything's the same. I do not feel like getting out of bed. However, mentally, I really can't grasp that today's going to be the last day I actually wake up. I have thought about this for a while, now. In the end, I have decided that this is the only way anyone is going to see how life has been treating me.
         There are some regrets I already have. Like what my family's going to feel after today - that concerns me; but not near as much as the way I've felt my whole life. I’m a Junior in high school. I have had three girlfriends in my whole life, and two of them were good friends I have known forever. I suppose I am average looking, making average grades. All my life I've been skinny and recently I have been dealing with bouts of acne. It would be an understatement to say that I do not even exist to most people in my school. I have tried to change to suit life and other people. However, that's not how I should do things. Face it; the world got Terry in 1987. It's had plenty of time to get used to me.
         "Do you want any breakfast, Terry," my Mom asks, when she sees me coming through the dining room.
         "No thank you. Not hungry," I respond. It's the truth.
         "You're gonna be hungry later," she insists.
         Without a reply, I head out the door for school, with less vigor than usual. I would imagine so, considering I have my Dad's .45 in my backpack. My Dad does not attempt to hide it and takes pride in his guns, though he doesn’t even hunt. I have this feeling in my chest similar to what I would feel as a kid knowing I am in trouble. But there will not be any consequences for me to feel after today. I've got a bullet for that jackass football player, David. And I've got one especially for myself. My shoulders are tight and my heart pounds on my ribcage like a hammer.
         Of course, I'm scared. Yet, what a relief this will be. For one, David's going to get what he's had coming for a long time. And I won't have to suffer anymore. I've held on long enough. I guess you could say that it's time for me to let go. In a way, this day is kind of a relief for me. It's raining outside and I walk slowly, without an umbrella, to the bus stop. For all I care, lightning could strike.
         As I board the bus, nobody pays me any attention. Everyone is speaking to about five other people. In the back there's my best friend, Cory. Cory's a good guy, a little optimistic for me, but whatever. No one talks to us but each other. He knows me better than anyone in my family does. I think he suspects what's going to happen today. He knows that I've been thinking about suicide, too. But he'll be more surprised when he finds out I killed David.
         “Hey, Terry,” Cory initiates.
         I respond with only a nod. That is just slightly less than I afford on most days. Cory can understand me. And if anyone can take my mind off stressful things, he’s the one. Cory is a little taller than I am and slightly luckier with girls. He isn't into extracurricular activities and doesn't care if he ever goes to college. I can't blame him, there. Unfortunately, I never have learned to trust people much, him included. The best I can clue him on is the extent of what I am feeling.
         “Cory, what was it you were comparing the bus driver to a couple days ago,” I inquire. Maybe my sense of humor can help me to second-guess what I am coming to school to do today.
         “Oh, yeah, she reminds me of a camel with her hunch back and when she spits as she talks,” he confirms.
         “I can definitely see that,” I insist, still not finding that as funny as before. My stomach aches and yet the thought of eating is less appealing. God, please help me to be firm in this decision. I feel like a wreck. Aside from these physical discomforts, I have the feeling that everyone can see into my head and tell what I am thinking. That cannot be good. Then again, when has life dealt me the good cards?
         The bus pulls into the normal spot to let us out to school. I was really hoping something would delay the ride here. Well, it’s time I step up to the plate, I suppose. Everyone else getting off the bus seems so carefree and blind to the troubles of the world. Would it be greedy to wonder why I am the one with the short straw? Of course, it would not! It would be foolish to take things as they are by compromising.
         “Another day as the anonymous face in the crowd,” Cory attests, with all kidding aside. He’s got that part figured out. To the rest of the world, people like Cory and me must be mere raindrops in a thunderstorm.
         “That’s true. I guess I’ll see you at lunch.” After I say that, Cory looks at me with confusion, probably because I always sit with him at lunch. The truth is, I don’t know where I will be at that time. These kinds of things I never planned. I just hope that my thoughts don’t form my expressions. I cannot afford to blow this.
         I never thought about exactly when I want to carry out my plans. That puts me on the spot in some way. The halls are crowded, which could work for me or against me in their own ways. I approach my locker and before I even get it open, David walks by and slings his backpack at me, pretending that it was an accident. Considering the mood I am already in, I drop my backpack and start to reach inside of it. My heart races until I look up again and see that he’s turned the corner to another hallway. He is going to get what he has coming but I don’t want to hurry it, either. I figure I will do it at the beginning of lunch. I will have plenty of time to carry out my plan without panic.
         My first class of the day, English, goes by without me even realizing it. Physically, I was there. My mind was still at my locker, though. Our English teacher told us to continue reading the Shakespeare play we started a week ago. That would be easy enough to dwell on my mood for an hour. As I walk to my second class of the day, my friend Amy approaches, with a big, silly grin.
         “I know someone who likes you,” she announces
         “That’s cool,” I reply unenthusiastically.
         “It’s Amanda, from chemistry class. I can give you her phone number,” she insists.
         “I guess.”
         “You seem upset,” she says. “Are you all right?”
         “Yeah, I’m fine,” I infer, secretly wishing that I could spill everything to Amy as if she was my personal counselor. I have tried speaking to the actual counselor, in fact, though I believe that he cannot give practical advice without knowing exactly how I feel. Of course, he would nod and say “uh-huh”, but that is just empty listening, to me.
         “If you want to know more, get with me after school. I think you’ll like her.”
         Any other day, that would cheer me up. Today, God would have to intervene to change my mood. The day is rolling by, like a freight train through the city. I know that I cannot make it stop and that I will have to do something eventually. The agony of conflicting emotions is eating me up. I sincerely want to abandon my plans. However, I know that I will be miserable for a prolonged amount of time. Pure emotion drives my passion to shoot David. Turning the gun on me is only the escape from this life of mediocrity and despair.
         My second class, Government, is a release in some ways. I have always enjoyed that class and the lesson usually takes my mind off whatever is troubling me. Despite this, I feel like I am stalling. Though I never had a timetable of when I would carry out my revenge, it seems that I am allowing excuses to postpone.
         “Terry, you seem elsewhere,” announces my teacher, Mr. Stein.
         “Oh, sorry,” I reply. I didn’t think my preoccupation was noticeable. The last thing I want to do is be transparent. My palms are sweating already and my stomach feels like a boy scout tied it into his best knot. With block scheduling, classes are longer and scheduled every other day. So, after this class is lunch. If I plan to solve my problems soon, I need to suck it in and take care of business.
         After the class lets out my next destination is my locker to drop off my books. I am surprised to see wrapped around the handle of my locker, a big, disgusting wad of gum. Isn’t this the most ironic thing? Anyone would see that David wants me to blast him. Abandoning my locker, I walk slowly and purposefully toward the cafeteria. I have just lost all patience. On my way to lunch, I reach into my backpack and grip the gun. Detouring into a restroom, I slip the gun into my waistband for now and head back out.
         Cory glimpses me walking into the cafeteria and grins like a clown. I am glad everything is so peachy for him.
         “There you are,” he blurts.
         “As promised. Would you be surprised if I were to just go nuts and fill David with bullets,” I ask, mostly kidding aside.
         “Not at all,” Cory responds. I should have known he would think it a joke. “Oh yeah, the gum.”
         “You saw it?”
         “Yeah. That’s a shame.”
         “He will learn,” I claim. He does not know yet how true that statement is.
Lunch rolls on without me seeing David. I back out of getting something to eat because I am still not hungry, despite what my mom claimed earlier. The whole time Cory is filling me in on the ironies of school, I am scanning alternatives to my plans in my head. I cannot be home-schooled because both of my parents work.
         “You wouldn’t think Math could be any less boring. My last class has just reached heights I never before imagined,” explained Cory, mostly in vain. “Man, you don’t look too well. Did you eat a pepper, or something?”
         I am angry to the point of physiological effects. My head is burning up and I wonder if my temperature is closer to one hundred-two than ninety-eight. “No. I’m okay. I am just flustered,” I explain.
         “If anything, it's a bit breezy,” concludes Cory. I know it sounds unrealistic, yet I would be no less surprised if I passed out soon. When I get up to get something to drink the bell rings for the end of lunch. I swear it seems that fate is trying to rush me. Perhaps this is my chance.
         Walking down the hall towards my next class, I see David talking with some of his friends. His girlfriend looks pissed. Is it possible that she has finally seen him for the jerk that he is? I notice David start to walk off, swinging his wrestling jacket in the air, leaving her at her locker, appearing angry. This is it. I reach underneath my shirt, preparing to deliver David his overdue punishment.
         “Hey, Terry,” someone shouts. It’s Amanda. She waves me over as I start to walk past Chemistry class. “Amy told me she talked to you earlier. I feel so embarrassed.”
         “Don’t be,” I insist. Already that is the most vibrant I appeared all day. When I look up again, David has left my sight. “To be honest, that is probably the little bit of sunshine I needed today.”
         “Having a bad day? You can talk to me,” Amanda suggests.
         “I don’t really think you would understand. No offense, though.” After that, she sulks as she walks back into the classroom. How did I manage to blow two things at once? I will never understand myself. I enter the classroom, sit, and find myself still no less preoccupied than before the class started.
         After an hour of torturing myself with the same dreadful thoughts, I run into Amanda as we are leaving the class. She hands me a note and smiles. She's got perfect teeth and looks lovely with her auburn hair thrown back into a ponytail. Every time I consider doing something litigious, some outside factor compels me to do otherwise, usually in the form of good news. Still, a miracle is what I need to turn things around for me. Lord, please guide me.
         Nearly halfway through the last class, I remember the note Amanda wrote for me. I dig it out in a hurry to read what she has to say. Most of the note, which is written front and back, is typical small talk. Close to the end of the note, she says that she wants to go out sometime. Why couldn’t she have brought this up sooner? I got myself into something of which I will not be backing out. Never could I have realized that my day would change in the last minute. Amanda says that David got in trouble for taking his mom’s car one night and will be transferring to an all-boys school a few miles away. My heart races again to account for my loss of breath. I have a feeling that this changes things.
         After school, walking to the bus, I spot Cory. “Is it true that David Ivins is going to an all-boys school?”
         “Yeah, and he’s gonna have to wear a uniform, too,” exclaims Cory.
         I suppose this does change everything. For the first time all day, the first time all week, I smile. I never saw David at all since Chemistry class, after lunch. I passed his girlfriend on the way to the bus and she was downplaying the whole ordeal to her friends. On the bus, Cory talked and I listened while the whole world seemed to invite me back in. The rain had quit and the rain-battered sunflowers were standing strong in the field right outside the school. The bus dropped me off and I took my time walking home. When I walk in, my dog let me know that he is glad to see me. He will have plenty of time to visit with me after I grab the phone and call Amanda.