Age:
High School
Reading Level: 3.7
Chapter 1
I was trying really hard to listen to Theo. I swear I was. But I was so tired that my eyes were burning, and my head felt heavy.
So, I just nodded every couple of seconds while he talked.
Theo was always rambling on about something. He'd been this way since we met when we were little kids.
Sometimes it was a book he wanted to write or a tree house he wanted to build. He’d get so excited about his wild ideas you couldn’t help but get excited with him.
Sometimes he’d have a hard time with a project and get moody. Then you’d feel bad for him.
But this never lasted long because soon he’d be excited about something else.
My mom said that's just the way creative types are. They can move from idea to idea without finishing anything.
I guess she’d know, being an artist and all.
But I still thought the universe was messed up in that way. The people with the best ideas were the people who couldn’t actually commit to anything.
I couldn’t go in the garage anymore. It depressed the hell out of me.
The garage was my mom’s art studio, and full of her unfinished works. I thought these works had the most potential.
They could have been great, if only mom had finished them.
Theo’s ideas were like that. No matter how wild they were, it always killed me when he quit.
Chapter 2
Theo had his ideas, and Mom had her paintings. As for me, I’ve never known what I wanted to do with my life.
Because Theo and I were so different, I thought we might make a good pair. Theo was dreamy and idealistic. I was stubborn and determined.
I could listen to Theo's ideas and create plans to make them happen. We could even go into business together, doing something practical like project design.
Theo didn’t like that idea all too much. He said if I wrote the book or built the fort then it wasn’t really his idea anymore. Theo was protective of his wild imagination.
I understood, because his imagination was the best thing about him. So, I let it go.
Still, I sometimes wondered if Theo really just didn't want to work with me.
Chapter 3
So, you see why I wasn’t too concerned with whatever Theo was rambling on about.
It was seven o'clock on a Monday morning. We were in English class. I was tired as hell.
And Theo was talking about starting a band.
Theo didn’t play any instruments. He didn’t even own any instruments.
I knew how to play guitar. Theo had given me one for Christmas a few years ago, saying I needed a creative outlet.
But like I said, Theo preferred to do things solo. Nothing I brought up ever seemed interesting enough for him.
To be honest, Theo made me feel quite boring sometimes. But there wasn’t anything I could do about that.
We’d been friends and neighbors for so long. It didn’t make sense to let go of someone who lived so close by and who knew me so well.
“Are you even listening to me?” Theo asked. “Chauncey?”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re going to start a band and get super famous and go on tour and forget all about me,” I joked.
“No,” Theo replied.
He looked so excited it scared me. My boringness was probably the only thing that balanced out his intensity.
Without me to ground him I bet he’d float away.
“We’re going to start a band!” he continued. “You'll play guitar and I’ll sing.”
He looked slightly annoyed. He was most likely repeating himself. I had been zoning out for a while.
“What makes you think I can write my own music?” I asked.
Theo knew I had about as many original ideas in my head as a rock. Maybe fewer. I don’t know a whole lot about rocks.
I figure Theo keeps me around to feel better about himself.
It's not because I’m helping him stay in touch with reality. He’d love it if I let him go a little crazy. Only for Theo it would be going a lot crazy and at 100 miles an hour.
“Come on! It would be so fun!" Theo was almost begging me to take his idea seriously. "Last week Wendell told me all about house shows and invited me to go with him. He said people just make fliers and have local bands play at their house. It sounds sick!”
Wendell was Theo’s dealer. It's not that Theo was a huge stoner or anything. He just really liked Wendell, if you know what I mean.
Buying pot was an excuse to talk to him. It was quite the costly plan if you ask me.
