Dreams Or How I Live My Life in Daydreams

Wildfire

The crowd hushed, drawing back as Autumn stood in the center of the dance hall facing Maddox, his face ashen. Tears pooled in her eyes. She fought to hold them in. She wouldn't cry in front of him. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Her hands trembling, she gripped the frilled edges of her bubblegum pink ballroom dress. The Swarovski crystals sewed into the outfit dazzled in the lights like a kaleidoscope. The choker latched onto her neck, felt constricting. She took a calming breath. Her short auburn hair that she had painstakingly styled into a bun came undone. The wayward strands tumbling onto her face.

His mouth agape, Maddow took an awkward step forward while the crowd watched transfixed, their phones held out in front of them recording the scene. Though it was brief, Autumn saw hurt, and confusion reflected in his emerald eyes.

"Why, Autumn?" he mumbled. His voice was so low Autumn had to strain her ears to hear it. Narrowing her amber eyes, she steeled herself. "Now you know how it feels when the shoe is on the other foot," she spat with venom.

Four Weeks Earlier

Autumn dashed into the classroom just as the tardy bell rang. "You barely made it, Ms. Fleetwood," the teacher scolded. "Sorry, Mr. Axel," Autumn muttered, taking a seat in the empty desk near the front. "Everyone, turn in your assignments," the instructor announced to grumbles.

Blowing a lock of her hair off her face, Autumn unzipped her book bag and pulled out her crumpled papers. In a rush, she crammed her homework in her bag while her dad waited for her in their family car, a beat-up blue metallic Impala. She barely had time to put on her jacket.

Standing by her desk, the professionally dressed instructor, with a clean shave and a messy crop top with a fade, waited as she smoothed out the crinkles. She handed him the paper.

Examining it with his piercing teal eyes, he cocked an eyebrow. "Watch out for your dangling modifiers," he said. "Yes, sir," Autumn replied.

The hard-nosed instructor ran the classroom with strict discipline. Autumn often wondered if he is a Drill Sergeant in his spare time.

The door swung open. Maddox waltzed inside. "Glad that you could join us, Mr. Zachary," the instructor said dryly.

"What and me not grace this boring class with my spectacular presence," the cocoa-haired boy said, flashing his pearly whites. Chuckles broke out in the classroom. "Have a seat," the instructor said, not impressed.

The fashionably dressed teenaged boy slung his bag off his arm and took a seat in the empty chair diagonal from Autumn's. Dangling his arm, he let the bag drop to the floor with a plop.  The instructor towered over the boy slouched in the chair.  "Do you have your assignment?"   

Maddox reached in his pocket and took out a folded piece of paper. "Here you go."

Unfolding it, the instructor scoured over it. His face darkened. Steam practically blew out of his ears. "Some of you are getting the basics of grammar wrong," he said. "Okay, boomer," the boy muttered.

The instructor pivoted on his heel. "What was that?" he said with a stare that could wither a bed of flowers. "Nothing," the boy said, sinking further into the chair.   His eyes unflinching, the instructor said, "I'm Generation X, so that insult doesn't work on me."

As the instructor traipsed to the blackboard to do a demonstration, the boy mocked him making goofy faces.

Tilting his head, he caught Autumn turning away. "Sup, Amber," he said.  She gritted her teeth. "It's Autumn!" 

"Care to share with the rest of us," the instructor said, eyeing them both. "It's nothing," Autumn murmured.

Silent for a moment, the instructor clinked his tongue. "Open your books to page twenty."

Bored and hungry, having skipped breakfast, Autumn gave a cursory glance at the sentence in the paragraph. It described a red house on a hilltop.

She lifted her eyes to the ceiling. The room melted away, her daydream world enveloping every nook and cranny of her mind.

Gazing up at the clear blue sky as a flock of birds flew overhead, Autumn took off her scuff-marked sneakers and held them in her hand as she hiked along the stony road up the shallow hill. The smooth round pebbles tickled the soles of her bare feet. 

A gust of wind blew a strand of her sleek bob hairstyle into her eyes. She pushed the troublesome tresses out of her face and behind her ear with her thumb.

Straight ahead, she saw the two-story structure, the red paint flaking. The grass swayed lazily in the breeze. The scent of mulch hovered thickly in the air.

Sweat dripped down her face as the sun bore down on her. She wiped it off with the back of her hand.  She swallowed, her throat parched; her tongue thick and swollen. 

The heat unbearable, she unfastened her jacket and tied it around her waist.  Her t-shirt, clammy and sticky, clung to her skin.

Corn stalks neighboring the house stretched for miles. A lone tractor sat deserted near a derelict barn. Neighing drew her attention. She rounded the barn to the sight of a black foal eating hay sprinkled on the ground. It's long flowing mane glistened in the sunlight.  It lifted its head, staring at her with its huge dark brown eyes. She approached it tentatively.  It nickered.

As she stretched out her hand to touch it, the thundering rattle of the bell ringing brought her back to the present.

"That's your homework assignment," the instructor said amid the clamoring. "Ms. Fleetwood, careful with those dangling modifiers," he reiterated. "Yes, Mr. Axel," she said, closing her book and stuffing her book bag. She would ask Nara later what the assignment was.

Lingering behind while the others filed out of the classroom, Maddox stepped in front of Autumn, blocking the exit.  She opened her mouth to protest when he pulled out a flyer from his bag and shoved it into her hand.  She'd seen the flyer, announcing the school dance, in the hallway, restroom, and on the bulletin board. You couldn't miss it.

Why are you giving this to me?" she said, crossing her arms. "I'd like for you to be my date for the school dance," he said, making a duh face.

Rendered speechless, Autumn stared at the boy as if he had grown another head.