Sleepwalking my way through life: Everyone needs some groupies...



Everyone needs some groupies...

“So what coloured shoes are you wearing tomorrow?” she asked, looking at me with a smile that flashed with the shine of metal. I was walking at a fast pace – trying my best to lose her – but she matched my speed, her hair bouncing in the wind.

“I don’t know. And besides, you won’t even see me.”

“I’m going to the dentist tomorrow to get my braces checked up!” She exclaimed randomly, not hearing what I had said, “Maybe I could get the same colour as your shoes, and then we’d match!” She beamed at me again, attempting to blind me.

“We’re off tomorrow,” I told her, “School holiday remember?”

“Oh yeah…” She said glumly, looking at the ground. She looked at my red shoes and her head perked up again. “What colour are you going to be wearing anyway?”

I sighed and tried to telepathically tell her to go away. It had been like that for the past week; I would step off the bus and – before I had the chance to turn on my CD player – they would appear. First year girls; sometimes a dozen, maybe more, but no less than six would flood off the bus and surround me. Eagerly grinning and shouting their welcomes to me in a preteen clamour. I would jump over them and shoot down the pavement in a desperate attempt to escape.

But they always caught up with me, plaguing me with questions about my shoes, complimenting the style of my hair and quizzing me incessantly on what their names were. I had to dodge a backback or two after I mistook Robin for Abbey.

After a few days of their constant grilling and accompaniment, I finally broke my monosyllabic answers and asked them, “Do any of you girls know my name?”

A long pause followed that question, the air filled with sounds of rustling trees and furtive whispering.

“Rumplestiltskin?” One of the girls asked.

“Very funny.”

So they dispersed and left me by myself to walk home in peace. As I stepped off the bus the next day I revelled in the music of my CD player, only pausing it once to hear something other than ceaseless chattering. The day after I did the same as the day before, relaxed in my own thoughts. Another day passed and they still hadn’t come to flood me questions over these unknown black school shoes (I had worn them purposefully to confuse them). The day that followed that one still produced nothing, no girls at all to follow me home. A weekend passed, and I found myself wondering where they had gone to, whether they had found another sixth year to stalk.

Monday rolled around, and my dark thoughts were cleared when I saw them waiting for me in the spring sun, beaming ecstatically. I walked passed them, trying to hide my joy at seeing them, and continued home with the group at my heels.

“Well?” I asked them, talking over my shoulder.

“You’re name is… Joe!”

And so my fan club was born.
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3 Comments:

At 10:55 am, Anonymous Elisabeth Ice Cream said...

And is the fanclub still going strong? [jealous]

 
At 11:42 am, Anonymous Jules said...

I can't work LiveJournal, so tell me if the viewing the friend's entries thing works or not. Thanks. :)

 
At 12:49 pm, Anonymous Joe said...

EIC - Don't think so. I only saw them when I came off the bus from school, and since school has ended now I don't see them at all. Though, I do hope that they hold bi-weekly meetings in my honour (as I suggested, of course).

-Joe

 

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