Boys

I heard sloshy steps behind me and immediately knew it was Scott Riley. He usually wore his old Converses and it had been raining that day. He must have stepped in a giant puddle because all day I could hear his shoes squishing and squashing as he walked through the hallways. 

I stopped short and sure enough, a few seconds later the wet steps had stopped. I waited to see if he was going to say anything. I sure as hell wasn’t about to. He’s the one who was in the wrong. 

When nothing transpired, I hefted my backpack higher on my shoulder and picked back up walking again. And sure enough, the squishing sound picked back up too. 

I wondered if he was going to follow me all the way. Though we lived in the same neighborhood, his house wasn’t on the same street as mine. Plus, his mother would want him home by a certain time and I had nothing to say to him, so what would be the point? 

Still, plip plop pssh of his soggy tennis shoes persisted. 

I’d had enough. I was not about to have him follow me all the way home. Thus I stopped once again and turned to face Scott. 

“Why are you following me?” 

He looked taken aback but he didn’t flee. He shuffled from foot to foot, looking anywhere but at me. Then he mumbled something under his breath. 

“Speak up, I didn’t hear you.” 

“I said I’m sorry!” He shouted at me, before running away. 

Boys. I’ll never understand them.

261 Words