The Ring of Time
You get dressed in the "coolest" clothes you own - some jeans, sneakers, and a long-sleeved 17th Street Surf Shop t-shirt. Giving yourself the once-over, followed by a critical, disapproving glance, you decide to both work out and visit the mall as soon as possible. You grab your bookbag and head out to breakfast.
Raisin Bran never tasted so odd as you stare across the table at your younger brother, quite a few inches less - both in stature AND girth. "What?" he asks with a questioning look and a raised eyebrow. "Oh, nothing," you reply, with a wry smile.
Your Mom, that had been busying herself around the kitchen, seems now fixated upon your left hand. At once realizing how odd it must appear for a 14-year-old to be sporting a wedding band, you quickly hide your hand, but it's too late. "Mike, where did you get that gold ring on your hand?" your Mom asks. Thinking as quickly as you can, you lie - "Well, Mom, I found it the other day and it fit so well I just started wearing it." She looks at you with the look of a Mom that knows better, but intends to overlook the fact that her son might be a criminal. "Well, at least take it off your left hand - we can't have people thinking my sweet son is married." You gladly agree and move the ring from your left hand to your right, where it fits justs as well. You hurry to finish your breakfast and run out to the bus stop, pausing to stick your tongue out at your brother, whose bus doesn't arrive for another hour.
Once there, you see the two girls and two guys at the bus stop that you remember from your past, but also are careful not to mention their names until you've properly introduced yourself. Heather, Missy, Chris, and Mike talk briefly with you and then bring the conversation to a close as the bus nears - par for the course, as you recall. You board the bus, but instead of sitting in the front as you used to, you make your way further to the back and try to spark up a conversation with Chris, the guy closest to your age (probably even younger). This goes well all the way to school and you leave the bus with the feeling of a new friendship's beginning under your belt.
You pause to take out your orientation paper from your bookbag to use in trying to find your homeroom, as you can't seem to find that peticular fact in your memory. You quickly, yet nonchalantly, find your way to your homeroom where you are one of the first people to arrive. Soon everyone has gotten there, the bell has rung, the announcements are finished over the intercom, and the teacher has begun asking everyone to tell the class their name and a little about themselves. She finally gets down the row to you. Do you...
Raisin Bran never tasted so odd as you stare across the table at your younger brother, quite a few inches less - both in stature AND girth. "What?" he asks with a questioning look and a raised eyebrow. "Oh, nothing," you reply, with a wry smile.
Your Mom, that had been busying herself around the kitchen, seems now fixated upon your left hand. At once realizing how odd it must appear for a 14-year-old to be sporting a wedding band, you quickly hide your hand, but it's too late. "Mike, where did you get that gold ring on your hand?" your Mom asks. Thinking as quickly as you can, you lie - "Well, Mom, I found it the other day and it fit so well I just started wearing it." She looks at you with the look of a Mom that knows better, but intends to overlook the fact that her son might be a criminal. "Well, at least take it off your left hand - we can't have people thinking my sweet son is married." You gladly agree and move the ring from your left hand to your right, where it fits justs as well. You hurry to finish your breakfast and run out to the bus stop, pausing to stick your tongue out at your brother, whose bus doesn't arrive for another hour.
Once there, you see the two girls and two guys at the bus stop that you remember from your past, but also are careful not to mention their names until you've properly introduced yourself. Heather, Missy, Chris, and Mike talk briefly with you and then bring the conversation to a close as the bus nears - par for the course, as you recall. You board the bus, but instead of sitting in the front as you used to, you make your way further to the back and try to spark up a conversation with Chris, the guy closest to your age (probably even younger). This goes well all the way to school and you leave the bus with the feeling of a new friendship's beginning under your belt.
You pause to take out your orientation paper from your bookbag to use in trying to find your homeroom, as you can't seem to find that peticular fact in your memory. You quickly, yet nonchalantly, find your way to your homeroom where you are one of the first people to arrive. Soon everyone has gotten there, the bell has rung, the announcements are finished over the intercom, and the teacher has begun asking everyone to tell the class their name and a little about themselves. She finally gets down the row to you. Do you...