Venice
James. A motorcycle. Who would've thought. I mean, not that I really care much about James's personal life, but... seriously, a motorcycle?! I mean, he's like this total loner-loser, the type that has all the qualities of a nerd excepting being smart. And he has a motorcycle. A motorcycle! No one else at this school has a motorcycle, but of course James Luther does! Weird, weird, weird.
"Did you know crickets make their noise with there knees?" I look up at Russel as he sits
down across from me at my lunch table. I put down my book, "Yes, actually, I did know that."
He raises an eyebrow, "Huh. Well, that's a bummer."
"Why are you sitting with me again?"
"Why not?" I shake my head at him, "That's not a good enough answer." He shrugs and takes a
bite of a licorice whip, looking over it into my eyes, "I don't know. I like you."
"You also like Good Charlotte, and skateboarding."
"I do, yes."
"So that's not a good reason." He lowered his right eyebrow and raised his left one at me. "Why
else do people sit together? They like one another. That's the way it works."
"Yea, for most. But I always sit by myself."
"Maybe nobody likes you."
"Gee, thanks."
"Or maybe you don't like them." I ponder this for a moment, "I don't really, you're right about
that."
"Well there you have it." He takes another bite of his licorice whip. "So, what are you reading?"
I hold up Pride and Prejudice and he reads the title. He takes another bite, "Cool."
"What about you? You reading anything?" He reaches into his backpack and pulls out Hamlet. I
raise an eyebrow, "You're reading that?"
"For English."
"Oh, right." I lean back on the bench and look up at the sky as a bird flies past. "What do you
want to be when you grow up, Russel?" I ask him, looking down. He raises an eyebrow, "Uh, I
don't know, I guess. A dad. A husband." I smile, "What do you want to do for work I meant?" He
shrugs, "I don't know. I guess I'll find out when the time comes, right?" I grin and reply, "I guess
you will." He smiles and looks up at the sky. I look up, too, and we both watch as another bird
flies past our heads, knowing exactly where it's going... unlike us. "So, how many kids do you
want?" I ask, looking down again. He looks down too, "I don't know. I want a big family, like my
own." I smile, "That's funny, most people with a big family growing up want a small family, and
vice versa." He shrugs, "Yea, I don't really get that. I love having a big family. I don't get why
anybody would want a small family, especially someone who's experienced a big one." He
shrugs again, "Maybe that's just me." I smile wider. "I want a big family, too, but not huge or
anything, you know. I want four or five kids." He smiles, "I want six, one less than my parents."
"You have six brother and sisters?" I exclaim. He nods, smiling, "Yup. An older brother, older
sister, three younger sisters, and a younger brother." I whistle, "Wow. What are there names?"
"Jameson, Isobel, Amber, Stacy, Lellin, and Kenny."
"How old are they?"
"Jameson is nineteen, Isobel's twenty-four, Amber and Stacy are fifteen, they're twins, Lellin is
six months, and Kenny is six years."
"Wow. Your parents sure have their hands full."
"You can say that one again."
"Your parent sure have their hands full." He laughs, "Ok, you didn't have to." I smile.
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