A Boring LIfe

It’s not often I remember my dreams, but this morning I had one that really stuck with me. Although, this time I suppose it’s more of a memory? In kindergarten, we had to write a letter about what we wanted to be when we grew up. My dream sent me back to that day and with the teacher’s help I came up with this:

When I grow up I want to be a hero. The other kids in class want to be doctors or singers or football players, but I want to live like the heroes from my favorite books. I can help a bunch of people, go on big adventures, and then my mom will be proud of me. They all tell me I can’t be a hero because that’s not a real job, but I’m going to prove them wrong. I can’t wait till I’m older, because I’m gonna be a hero.

Sure my head was in the clouds when I was little, but my reading skills were at a third grade level in kindergarten. I was well liked by my classmates and always willing to lend supplies to the kids who always forgot theirs. I was sharp, studious, punctual. All my teachers loved me!

“June you’re going to be late for school!”

Well, A LOT has changed since then.

“JUNE!!” My mom’s voice echoes through the house. It’s the first day of my senior year of high school and I forgot to set my alarm. I’m off to a great start. Yay.

I grab my backpack and race down the staircase only to realize I am still in my pajamas. Crap. I head back up the stairs. Alright, backpack check. Clothes check. Am I missing something? I’m probably missing something, but it must not be that important if I can’t remember it. I start to walk down the stairs again. Aaaghh my shoes! Crap!!

With my shoes in tow, I finally head down the stairs. On the bottom step I’m greeted by my mom.

“Honey…” my mom’s voice trails off. Oh boy, I know where this is going. I don’t want to disappoint her and I know she’ll never admit that I do. She worries about me which I suppose is inevitable. Everyone else’s kids seem to know what they want to do and who they want to be after high school, but me? I’m just lucky I managed to get out of bed.

“Hey honey. I know it’s tough for you, but this is your senior year. Please be sure to make the most of it.”

“I know… I’ll try.”

“Promise?” her voice says with a degree of uncertainty that makes my heart ache.

“I… promise…” But in all honesty, my best efforts have never felt worthy. So why would I even bother trying?

“Alright, I love you.”

I nod my head to acknowledge her words. Then I quickly shut the front door as soon as I’m outside. I press my back against the door and let out a sigh. While I can never bring myself to say those words back, I do love her too. I just wish her love didn’t feel so conditional I guess? She’ll love me if I try my best, but trying doesn’t feel worthwhile anymore.

As I start walking down the sidewalk, I realize I’ll never make it in time even if I run. So, I decide to stop by the convenience store on my way to school. I didn’t pack a lunch so I’ll need to grab some snacks for the afternoon anyway. Buying there is NOT an option since today is mystery meat day. The only mystery is if they can even call it meat.

I’ll grab a sandwich and a couple bags of potato chips while I’m here. Alas, I may let down my teachers, but I can never be let down by potato chips.

I walk through the automatic doors and listen to the comforting chime of the welcome tune. I call out to the manager. He's a bit of a grumpy sourpuss, but he’s got a soft spot for me I think. “Hello Frank!”

“Oh hey June! Frank’s not in yet. Sorry about that.” the cutie behind the desk says.

“Oh that’s alright then. Let him know I said hii~!” I say in my best sing songy voice.

He laughs, “Will do.”

As I start to grab my favorite chip flavors, the clerk begins to ask about me. “So June, when are you coming to work here?” He gestures to the help wanted sign on the glass.

He’s sweet, but he’s persistent. This isn’t the first time he’s asked. “Oh you wouldn’t want me. If I start working here I’ll be so fast at checkouts and all the customers would love me, I’d get employee of the month. I’d just cramp your style I’m afraid.”

“Oh and we wouldn’t want that now would we?” He says with a smile. He finishes checking out my items and as I turn to the door he calls out. “If you change your mind let me know! I’ll put in a good word for you!”

I can’t help but smirk at his stupid little grin. He’s pretty funny. I’m still in high school, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t consider working at the ol’ 8-Twelve. I’m not doing well in school anyways. Maybe I should just make the jump to getting a job now. I’m not getting any smarter that’s for sure.

I run through the school lobby and dash upstairs to my classroom. I bust the door wide open like an outlaw moseying through a saloon. Everyone in class turns their heads to look in my direction. The expressions range from mild annoyance to “you’ll never amount to anything” level of disappointment. Sheesh I know I screwed up, but their faces are a little much.

“Sorry I’m late…” I let out an embarrassed sigh. There’s no point in making an excuse either. Even though this is one of my new teachers this year, I’m sure word of my antics have spread throughout the whole school.

My teacher lets out a huge sigh of his own. “So this is the June Standard Time everyone has been talking about?”

Oh God even he knows about that joke. “June Standard Time” is the time zone in which the June species abides by. It’s about 15 minutes later than Eastern Standard Time, and it’s followed me around ever since middle school. Unfortunately, this system of time-keeping is a disease and there is no known cure. The whole classroom erupts in hushed giggle fits. One kid in particular laughs a little longer than usual.

Ugh Bryan. “Heheee… June Standard Time.” He giggles. He’s probably the one who told the teacher about that joke in the first place. Which is hilarious because when the joke was invented in middle school, he was the last one to get it.

“At least June’s living in the A.D. Your jokes are so old they’re B.C. Bryan.”

Thank you Christina. Genuinely one of the kindest people I have ever met and smart too. Usually she wouldn’t stoop so low as to insult someone, but we both agree Bryan sucks.

“S-shut up Christina!”

“Shut up Bryan!” We say in unison in an aggressive whisper.

While I may not be good at school, I do look forward to one thing: book club. I’ve never excelled at math, science, or economics, but I do love to read. And we don’t just read your standard run of the mill classics, our group likes to branch out. We’ve read sci-fis, mysteries, thrillers, and my favorite fantasy series so far, Emperor of the Lantern by P.L. Tokken.

Oooh speak of the devil! The school bell finally releases us for after school activities. I run to the classroom where we hold book club with Christina right behind me. Together, we’re President and Vice President respectively. I wish this looked good on a resume, but we mostly just get into angry discussions about which characters are better. Someone threw a chair once insisting Fern the Fearless had nothing Gelogas. I had to get ten stitches. Fun times.

“So Christina, who all is coming today?”

“Well it’s not looking so good I’m afraid. Zach is on vacation, Bethany and Sara are out sick, Chris left early for a doctor’s appointment, and Atlas… got hit by a truck this morning.”

“Oh my God is he okay?”

“Eh I think so? He’s in the hospital now. That being said, since no one is going to make it, I think I’m going to go home early. Are you staying here June?”

“Yeah I think so. Don’t worry I’ll be sure to lock the classroom before I leave this time!”

“Alright, see you!”

I wave goodbye to her. I really don’t want to go back home right now. I just feel so pressured to do better on my homework and studies when my mom is home, but I should work on something while I’m here. Oooh I know! I could write a get well soon card for Atlas! He’s not the most sunshine-y person, but I’m sure that a card will really cheer him up. Ooooh and I can write it in the orc language from Emperor of the Lantern!! He’ll get a kick out of it.

I pull out my copy of the book and start working on the translations. It’s pretty difficult to figure out on your own, but lucky for me I’ve been studying this language for years. I’ve also been studying Spanish for twice as long, but haven’t retained a lick of it. I’m sure my mom is incredibly proud of my fluency in fictional languages…. Hehee…

As I continue to write, my hands grow tired. The words in my book start to blur together as my eyes get increasingly heavier. And so, I fall asleep with the P.L. Tokken book in my hands dreaming of the whimsical and vibrant lives that fantasy characters in his series get to live. Then, all of a sudden, my peaceful black and white dreams become a bit more colorful. I can feel the cool air of the moonlit night and hear the distant calls of wrens. I spot cobblestone streets, maple trees, moths dancing in the sky, and holy crap is that a dragon!?!