Apple in the Middle

School. Not my favorite thing. Especially the first week back after a glorious summer off. I always dread the first assignment the teachers always have us write: What I Did Over Summer Vacation. Seriously. Teachers, this, to us students, is the kiss of death. When you assign that paper, and you always do, we have to hide that fact that most of us did nothing. That most kids can’t afford to go anywhere. And even if I won the Nobel Prize for world peace (hey, it could happen), why am I going to spill my personal life to a teacher I don’t even know?
I can’t help but compare my life to a giant game of keep- away… with me always being in the middle running back and forth between two things, never quite catching anything. I call it the Ping-Pong effect because you’re the ball, and nobody ever wants you in their space. Have you ever felt like that? Never really belonging anywhere, but trying your darndest to run be- tween two lives only to find you’re always stuck in the middle?
Well that’s the Reader’s Digest summary of my life: Apple in the Middle. Did I tell you that I’m Apple? Yes, my name is the same as a fruit. How I got that name is coming later. I promise. I’ll get to the “how I spent my summer vacation” story later AND the story behind my name. I promise I will. I’m nothing, if not honest.
First, you should know that I tend to have some minor odd habits. For one, and some might call it a phobia, but I call it common sense that I will not step foot into a cemetery. There’s just something about stepping and hovering above decomposing bodies. Nope. Won’t do it. What if a boney skeleton hand reaches up and pulls me under? It’s really all about staying on this side of the turf. Cemeteries smell kind of funky, too. Eau de decay. Plus, I’m afraid that a dearly departed may want to exact a little revenge.
Another peculiar habit of mine is that I love asking people odd questions. It’s not that I need to or want to ask the questions, but it’s a tic. It’s almost like I get a thought in my head and it can’t stay in there quietly. The questions just pop into my head and when they do, I just blurt them out. It may sound weird, but sometimes when I talk to people, I get this hazy vision of them in my head. Usually it’s some image of them doing things. I don’t have any reference about them and can’t figure out why I get these visions. And they usually get me in trouble. Of course.