Rhyming Without a Reason

He was never good with rhymes, least to say. Despite his zeal for the English language, he had never been able to grasp the basis of his favorite childhood nursery rhymes. Dreading written assignments that required rhyming couplets and simple rhyme schemes, he would work himself into a hyperventilating frenzy before accepting his fate as a simpleton who feared a certain literary device.

Stepping out of Room 309 on a particularly warm November afternoon, he slung his worn messenger bag across one shoulder, adjusting the familiar leather straps. Leaving the stifling English classroom behind, he ducked his head and evaded the general chatter of relaxed students. Grateful for the mop of dark hair that fell across his face, he weaved through the crowd and made his way down the hallway. Upon reaching a set of double doors, he pushed them open and blinked slowly.

The balcony was empty, save for several ravens picking at a discarded sandwich.

Inhaling sharply, he leaned against the cement wall and slid onto the floor. Removing the strap from his shoulder, he crossed his legs gingerly and rested his head against the bumpy surface behind him. Blinking feverishly in the warm autumn wind, he head snapped up in upon hearing the building door swing open.

The faint, warm smell of milk chocolate and coffee Chewing on the chapped skin he had as lips restlessly, he nodded curtly at the newcomer.

In an attempt to still the palpitation of his telltale heart, he brought his fingers to his chin. Swallowing dryly, he felt his chest contract painfully.

Speak minimally.

''Avoid eye contact. ''

Breathe.

"Yo, beanpod."

Fuck.

Aforesaid 'beanpod' looked up, all prior resolutions forgotten. His reserved mask of a barrier came tumbling down