Neatly Disorganized
Desperate times call for shameless measures.
It was a warm Monday morning. The kind of warmth that would make you open your eyes from a cozy slumber just so you could, for a few seconds, soak in the lingering comfort of a wonderful night's rest before getting lulled back to sleep.
James opened his eyes a few times and got a glimpse of the golden sun rays that flooded his room, but sleep's powerful grip pulled him back each time. He gave in, groaning as he surrendered.
James lay sprawled on his belly, his soft duvet spread over his back as if it were thrown on him rather than carefully placed. His feet—one stretched east, the other other to the west—peeked out the lower borders of his blanket. His blanket felt like a warm, entrancing trap disguised as a hug, enslaving him to sleep.
Suddenly, as though a mallet struck a gong in his head, his eyes snapped open. Realization hitting him hard—extremely hard. "Jesus Christ! I'm dead! I'm a dead man walking!" He threw the blanket to a pile of clothes on the floor.
There were actually several piles of several different things littered on the floor in a somewhat 'neat manner'—as he would always say.
He stepped down from the bed and somehow managed to 'neatly' trip over one pile of adult magazines that for some reason his parents had never caught him with.
"Shit!" he cursed, his face flat on the floor. Then he mentally scolded himself for cursing.
He quickly got up and zoomed into the bathroom, and in a short while, he rushed out, threw on his uniform and wristwatch before rushing out the door while simultaneously brushing his hair.
He bolted down the stairs and past the kitchen, paying no attention to his mom who was angrily yelling his name. "Hi mom. I love you mom. Bye mom." He said and kept on running till he left the house.
On his bike, he cycled, as fast and as hard as he could, all he kept thinking was "God please, not today of all days! Not Mr. Ben's class of all classes—the same Mr. Ben who didn't let 15 students take last semester's exams just because they were 2 minutes late!"
He was so lost in thought that for a second, he forgot he was pedaling. All of a sudden, his front wheel got hooked to a loose rod that was poking off the side of a store's sign post, forcing the bike to violently crash, throwing him off his seat and twisting the wheels in ways that weren't normal.
"No! no no no no no!" James got up quickly, wailing at what just happened to his ride—his only ride. He turned to curse the owner of the shop and bad words were just about to leave his mouth when he saw that the shop belonged to his good old friend, grandpa Luke.
He decided there was no time to cry over spilled milk, so he locked his bike to a bike rack close to the shop before sprinting off. “As bad as it is, my bike isn't a good enough excuse if I'm late,” he reminded himself.
He was running full speed ahead on the pedestrian lane, dodging people and apologizing to some. When it was time to take a turn, he swerved, and as he did, he collided with someone so hard that they both fell down flat.
"Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to." he quickly got up and began apologizing as he helped the boy he had run into. The boy was just about to enter a car when he was knocked down.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" The boy yelled angrily.
"I'm really really really sorry" James got on his knees and begged like he was begging for a meal after 7 days of being starved.
The boy, a calm and soft-spoken kind of person who didn't like attention felt uncomfortable with the way James was apologizing because it was already attracting attention. So he said "Fine, it's alright. you can get up"
"Thank you, th—" James paused mid sentence when he saw that the boy was also wearing the same school uniform as him. "Are you going to HittenMile High?" He asked abruptly.
"Ummm. Yes I was ju—"
James, who was as foolish and shameless as they come cut him off midsentence, "Please can I get a ride in your car? there's something extremely important I can't afford to be late for."
'Ummm, sure invite yourself in after knocking me over' the boy scoffed irritably in a low voice to keep James from hearing.
But James didn't stop pleading so he eventually agreed. Before the boy could enter the car, James had already jumped into the passenger seat and buckled himself in.
The boy just snickered.
The moment they got to the school, James didn't wait for him to park properly, "Can I stop here? Thanks!" And then James ran out like the crazy dude he was.
"Thank you so much" James' voice echoed as he kept running into the school.
"Some people are mad." The boy muttered before parking the car properly.