Will you help me?” Ahmed can always tell when I’m getting nervous. Karin thought it’d be a good script for me for some reason.” I suck in a gust of air, let it linger in my lungs. “Do you have to actually like box and stuff?”
YALE RUMPUS SKULL AND BONES HOW TO
He boxed too and he basically coached her all his life and trained her up until the Olympics and so she has to, like, learn how to find motivation and strength in herself after he’s gone. “Okay, so this girl, Chloe, she’s a boxer and she’s competing in the Olympics and it’s a few months after her dad’s death. “Tell me about your character,” Ahmed says, slouched on the floor with his back against his bed. I’ve seen the pictures evolve since the days of kindergarten, when Ahmed and I first became friends after having a strange conversation about the virtues of trees during playtime. I’ve grown to love this hallway over the years. I follow Ahmed down the long red hallway where pictures of his childhood adorn the walls - here he is with his sister, when they were three and five, sitting on the steps of the Sydney Opera House, back when his family lived in Australia. Our first speech tournament of the season is coming up this weekend, at Pinewood High they won the state championship last year. I tap his shoulder and he jolts out of his static sullenness. He’s hunched over the countertop with that characteristic pensive look plastered over his face. Ahmed looks over at me, kind of scrunches up his nose, but doesn’t say anything. “Things need containers to stay together,” I say, as if it’s some sort of private revelation. I tap the hummus container with my fingernails. “I’d be severely lacking in baby carrots and hummus, that’s true.”Īhmed smiles.
YALE RUMPUS SKULL AND BONES DRIVER
I’m a slow driver my mom has convinced me that if I ever drive even a mile over the speed limit, I could end up in an accident. I’m always stunned at how quickly he makes it to his house. “You’re lucky we’re friends, otherwise you’d be starving all the time,” Ahmed says, his voice reaching from across the hallway. I dip another in the hummus and eat it in one bite. I take out a container of red pepper hummus and a bag of baby carrots and shove a carrot into my mouth. As soon as I walk into Ahmed’s house, I rummage through the refrigerator for a snack. I can see the blood, the pumping heart inside, turning to stone.Īfter school, I drive straight to Ahmed’s house in the Jeep my dad left for me and Mom. I look down at the red blob in the tupperware. I hear them, the words seeping out of their mouths, taking form in the air, and I see a lobster it rises, a gnarled red hand. The lobster slides gently at the bottom of the plastic tupperware I put it in.Īhmed and Briana discuss the coming weekend: senior prom is fast approaching Briana is wondering whether Andrew will ask her to the dance Ahmed voices his discontent about the whole ordeal, how it’s a pointless ceremony, another arbitrary beauty competition Briana nods, but she still wants to go. I didn’t really want to go, but Ahmed was going to support Briana’s mom, who works there. I packed some of the lobster left over from the community arts theater fundraising dinner last night.
I stare at the sandwich nose, the lemon eyes, the quesadilla lips, and chuckle to myself. In the cafeteria, I arrange Catherine’s leftover crust from her peanut butter and jelly sandwich, Ahmed’s juiced lemon, and Briana’s half-eaten quesadilla into the shape of a face. Sometimes I want to taste something other than monotony, predictability the days shuffle into one another seamlessly, one blur of indistinguishable experiences. It seems strange how easily I can fragment and stitch together a face in this way, as if every face, reduced to its components, is merely a jigsaw puzzle. I can disassemble the parts of her face in my mind - her nose floats next to her eyebrows, and then they join together again. Sometimes I look at my mother and see a stranger.
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