Center of Center (2)
Center of Center (2)
Serialized Novella-in-Flash by Chris Wiewiora
J.J. was often late for my class. He didn’t live on campus, despite seeming to belong to a half-dozen student groups and possessing an extraordinary amount of school spirit. He was busy, away from his host home as much as possible, but his car wasn’t reliable and Torideo didn’t run outside of Center. He was a charmer though who even in the first month of the fall semester knew who was who and how they plugged in at C.U. He was popular despite being a Divided who I could see becoming Student Body President—his own vision for himself that he shared in his first impromptu speech on, Who do you want to be when you graduate?
J.J. had first turned in an informative topic about not feeling comfortable as a Divided student. He didn’t feel invisible, but he didn’t feel seen for his character.
I really admired J.J.’s vulnerability, but I suggested saving the topic for a persuasive speech. Perhaps he could advocate for a Divided dorm or a required seminar about Divided relations for every first-year orientation; he had ideas. I told him to think about a communication method that he could share with our class, perhaps something about who we are beyond how people see us.
This big guy gets on my bus at the Center University Rec Center. He wears high-tops, sweatpants, and a C.U. hoodie. He could have been one of the ballers who loved to give an informative speech about the communication methods on the court: a fist raised in the air for a pick, an eye to the corner of the socket for open space, and a head nod acknowledging some help from another teammate to make the basket. He’s the last passenger I can safely fit before students spill over the yellow line painted beside my seat. The guy holds a bottle of diet water. I know he’s going to open it before he opens it.
The carbonation volcanoes.
I know it’s just a drink, but I say, That’s why we don’t allow eating on the bus. The guy holds the nearly empty bottle away from his body and fizz drips off his fingertips. I feel like a jerk to this guy who knows he did something stupid and doesn’t need me to rub it in. I slow down to the stop by the first set of dorms on campus and park. I grab some paper towels from behind my chair and pass them to the guy to use to clean up.
CENTER of CENTER is a serialized novella-in-flash by Chris Wiewiora. Go here to start at the beginning. Paid subscribers have access to every installment of our serial fiction.
Installments: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32