His continued amusement piqued my curiosity to a point where it could no longer be denied. “What was your dream about?” I asked, cautiously.
“A platypus.”
I cast him a sideways glance as a spontaneous smile jumped to my lips. Why did that not surprise me? This guy was all kinds of weird. Or stoned. Or a combination of the two. But I didn’t care because it had been a long time since I’d met someone quirky enough to pull me out of a nearly two-year funk. Simply put, Keith was a breath of ‘not so’ fresh air.
“A platypus?” I questioned, always the analytical one. “Like the animal?”
“No, like the breakfast cereal.” He chuckled. “Of course, the animal.”
And then I did something I hadn’t done in ages: I laughed. Unencumbered by self-doubt, endorphins skipped their way from one neuron to the next. I felt almost weightless.
“You’re funny,” he said.
No. I was so far from funny that even old people with their hearing aids turned down didn’t chuckle awkwardly at me. But you know what? I’d accept Keith’s compliment and blush over it for days.
“So, um…”Come on, Samantha. You can do this. Deep breath. Talk.“Platypus dreams, huh? They can’t be all that common.”
He laughed, nudging into me with his shoulder as if we were the oldest of friends. “I know, right?”
I giggled – actually giggled. What was happening here? How on earth had I gone from sad, lonely number twenty-nine into a tittering dream analyst for Pearl Beach’s hottest stoner? A lifetime of self-preservation, and now suddenly I was throwing caution to the wind with the guy who kept my fellow classmates in a steady supply of mind-altering drugs. I should fear him. Why didn’t I? He was the school stoner. By definition, that made him the least trustworthy person in town.
Yet here I was finding actual words to speak. “So, what exactly was this platypus doing in your dream?”
Keith leaned in, a grave expression transforming his goofy face. It was as if what he was about to say was of critical importance to the security of the nation. “She wanted her baby back.”
Never had I been as riveted by a story as I was this one. I matched his serious face and whispered a response of my own. “Where was her baby?”
Number thirty tilted upright once more, returning to me the personal space he’d just stolen. He shrugged. “How would I know? It was a dream.”
Gaping openly at him, I waited for the continuation of his story – willed it from his depths – yet nothing more was revealed. That couldn’t be it! There were too many unanswered questions. “Wait, what?”
“Exactly, dude. Trippy, right?”
“That was…” I cocked my head, blinking at him. Was he for real? Being a lifelong reader, I knew a thing or two about plot holes, and his tale was littered with craters. “I’m sorry, but that was the worst bit of storytelling I’ve ever heard.”
Keith laughed as he folded his arms on the table like a pillow, laid his head down, and smiled up at me from his relaxed position. Holy crap, he was handsome. My heart did a little summersault. I guess maybe I’d never given him the credit he deserved, but in my defense, I’d also never been this close to such perfect imperfection. Keith’s shoulder-length sandy brown hair, streaked by the sun, was a tangled mess, and his deeply tanned skin was strewn with sun splotches and road-burn-style scratches. His tattered clothing completed the haphazard picture.
Yet, that face.
It was like something out of a teen dream magazine, and I could easily picture him smiling back at me from a poster on my wall. Thankfully, my goggling didn’t seem to register with my lab partner; either he was used to the reaction or he just didn’t care. But a strange thing happened to me in that moment – a feeling of weightlessness came over me, filling me up as the stress I’d been holding onto for so long suddenly evaporated. Two years I’d tried to rid myself of the strain, and this wild, handsome boy waltzed in with gemstone compliments and unfinished dreams and suddenly I had a reason to laugh again.
His eyes twinkled with mischief. “I’m Keith, by the way.”
“Samantha.”
“Cool. I’m gonna take a nap now.”
I nodded.
Summer school, here I come.
2
Keith: Wasted Space
“Kali, wake up.”
Hands jostled my slumbering frame. Keeping my eyes firmly closed, I groaned my displeasure while swatting blindly at the annoying gnat-like creature invading my privacy.
