Our Human Mate

>>-----------♥-----------<< The day's final bell rings loudly, disrupting the silence that filled the room moments ago. Chatter begins as my classmates gather and put their belongings into their book bags. The chairs are sliding against the polished concrete, scratching like nails on a chalkboard, causing the hair on my arms to stand up. I lightly push my chair in and put my arms through my bookbag while heading towards the door. The hallway is painted a stark white with white polished concrete floors that are cracked and chipped. A sea of purple lockers fills the walls in between the classrooms. I walk over to my locker, locker 417, which I have had all four years of high school. We had a contest to decorate our lockers last month, and mine is still fully decorated with pictures of my friends and me. I also have a few cutouts of my favorite bands, stickers, and a cute swirly ribbon. I grab the books I need for homework and head to the football field to study while waiting for my best friend, Sia, to finish cheerleading practice. I lightly lay my blanket on the ground, get my notebook out of my bag, and start working on my writing assignment. The noise from the cheerleaders is distracting, and all I can hear is the head cheerleader yelling, “Higher.” I rummage through my bookbag for my air pods and finally find them at the bottom of my bag. I open Spotify and select my favorite homework playlist, which has various music on it. My favorite song, ‘Amygdala’ by Agust D, starts playing and drowns out the squawking of the head cheerleader, Gabriella Willaims. Sia’s cheer practice lasts an hour and thirty minutes, and once it is done, she comes skipping over to me. “Hi, babes, ready to go?” Sia chips. I laugh lightly and reply, “Yes, I am.” Sia looks down at me while I gather my things, and her long blonde hair, which is in a ponytail, blows lightly in the wind. Sia reaches her hand out to me to help me get up, and she makes a low grunting noise as she pulls me to my feet. I look at her and lightly shake my head while laughing. “I’m not that heavy,” I say to her. “What?” She laughs “I heard the grunt,” I reply. “I was just joking.” She teases. We go to the parking lot and get into Sia’s Mom’s 2018 Hyundai Sonata Sport. We decide to go to Starbucks to grab a drink, and when we get there, the lobby is packed. While waiting in line, Sia’s phone dings three times, and I start laughing. Sia is a free-spirit and is serial dating the football team. That may have been a bit harsh, but she has more than one boyfriend. We are next to order, and while looking at the menu to see if we want to try something new, Sia’s blue eyes light up when she realizes the fall menu is officially out! “Ooh ooh ooh,” Sia exclaims. “Are you just realizing the fall menu is out?” I tease. “Yes, and I am so excited.” She squeals. We walk up to the counter to order, and a woman named Ashley smiles at us. “How can I help you today?” She asks. “Hi, can I get a Venti vanilla sweet cream cold brew with coconut milk and vanilla sweet cream cold foam?” “Of course you can, and your name?” She asks. “Ari.” “Our orders are together,” Sia says. “No problem; what can I get for you?” Ashley asks. “I will take a venti pumpkin spice creme frappuccino blended with oat milk and extra whipped cream, please? “Ooh, can we also get two banana walnut and pecan loaves?” “Absolutely, and what is your name?” She asks. “My name is Sia.” “It will be a little bit of a wait, but we will have it ready for you as quickly as we can,” Ashley says. “No problem at all.” Sia and I reply simultaneously. We sit at the only available table inside while waiting for our drinks and food. Sia is texting away, and I am slightly jealous of how perfect Sia’s pouty lips are. They are naturally pink and luscious. It isn’t that my lips aren’t luscious, because they are, but hers have a natural pout. I must’ve been lost in thought for longer than I realize because Sia lightly nudges my shoulder to get my attention. By the time I look over, Sia has stood up and is heading towards the counter. “They called our names.” Sia laughs. “Oops.” “Let's sit outside,” Sia says. We grab our drinks, food, and some napkins and head outside. We grab a table further away from the door and start eating our banana nut loaves, which are perfectly rich and crunchy. Sia’s phone has not stopped dinging since we’ve been here. “Which boyfriend is that?” I tease. “What do you mean which one?” Sia laughs. “Oh, come on, Si, I know you are dating more than one person.” “Okay, look, I am dating one person officially and two unofficially,” Sia replies sarcastically. “Oh, is that so?” I laugh. “It is so.” “And anyway, when will you get a boyfriend…hmm?” Sia asks. “I don’t have time for a boyfriend, Si, and honestly, it is the last thing I am thinking about.” “You can make time for a boyfriend.”. “Between school, swimming, dance, and studying for the SATs, there is no time,” I reply softly. “You’re too focused on school,” Sia says bluntly. “No, you’re just not focused enough on school.” “Whatever,” Sia says as she waves her hand, urging me to shut up. We sit silently, eating while Sia sends what feels like her hundredth text, and I think about life after high school. I want to attend college and earn a master's degree in Psychology. I have wanted to be a grief counselor for a few years now, and my compassion will help with that. I also often wonder where I will end up. Will I still be stuck in this small backwoods town snuggled in Nowheresville, Indiana, or will I end up in a big city in some fancy high-rise? I have no family besides Sia and her parents, so nothing keeps me here. My train of thought is interrupted by ambulance sirens screaming down the street in front of us. “Ready to head home?” Sia asks. “Yeah, let's go.” We have about a fifteen-minute drive from Starbucks to home, a beautiful ride through the country. We live in the middle of nowhere down a tree-lined road with poorly painted lines and no guard rails. Our house sits about a quarter mile off the main road down a gravel driveway. The house is a beautiful four-bedroom, five-bathroom farmhouse built brand new four years ago. It is white and accented with black, so it's a modern farmhouse. The gravel clanks against the underneath of the car, and dust fills the air. Maddie calls over as we walk in, “Girls dinner will be ready around 5:30 p.m.” “Thanks, Mom,” Sia yells. We plop down on the couch and watch TV until dinner is ready.