Walking Home with THAT Bro-Dude
Occasionally, when I’m reading an article, or someone’s blog post, or a book, or even just daydreaming while I do the menial, “copy-paste-copy-paste” labor that is work, I remember things I did in the past and think, “What was I doing?” or “How did I get to that point anyway?”
For instance, when I was in high school, there was this kid who rode the same bus as me. He was a total ass, the kind of guy that thought he was way cool because he did “chew” (gross) and hung out with the other guys of the same nature. He was also kind of short for a guy, so I felt he was compensating a little. Trying to be one of the big dogs, at which he succeeded. (The boys in my school weren’t very smart, typical “dudes”.) At some point, he moved to another house in the neighborhood that happened to be closer to mine, and because of the route the bus took, we had to walk the same street to get home.
I couldn’t stand him. Being one of the “big dogs”, he had the tendency to tease the tiny, unpopular girl who hung out with the other outcast girls and guys, who brought a lunch to school everyday, that was me. And although I had perfected the art of walking quickly (short stature combined with a 2 story middle/high school that held high school classes on both floors instead of just one, 4 minutes in between classes, and a general fear of being late for anything will do that), he somehow managed to catch up to me. At first, I think it was just chance. I liked rushing home, but I had books to carry, so that slowed my pace a bit. More so on the hot days.
And this is the part where I stop and say, “Wait, what happened?!” because at some point in our daily walks home, I started to enjoy myself a little, because even though he was an ass when he was with his friends, when we walked home, when no one else was around, he was actually nice to me. And not an ass. And I saw a side of him that I could actually like, and if he weren’t such a jerk the rest of the time, maybe even crush on, just a little.
The only problem is, I don’t remember how exactly we got to that point. I mean, there had to be a sort of agreement right? Even if it was unspoken, why did he decide to stop being a “big dog” and just be “normal dog”? I’ll probably never know, and he’s probably not remembering me and thinking, “Huh, how’d that happen?” like I am.
And that’s okay.