Meeting Josh Hutcherson

You were a normal teenage girl, until one day you stumbled upon a news article advertising a sweepstake to meet Josh Hutcherson. You did what it said, knowing it was impossible.......

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3. Friday

After four horribly long days of waiting, Friday finally came.

The alarm clock woke you up around seven, but you didn't even hit snooze once. You were so excited you practically floated to your dresser. You pulled out a blue custom-made "I am a Hutcher," T-shirt you got from Etsy, jeans, black converse, and loops a scarf over her neck, careful not to cover up the "I am a Hutcher," part.

 

When you reach the bottom of the steps, you run strait for the door. You want to get this school day over with. School couldn't have been slower. Time doesn't exactly fly by when you are staring at the clock. You wonder what the point of going to school today was, you didn't really soak any knowledge in. You packed on Thursday, you were going to be gone for a week. You basically packed your whole closet in your suitcase.

Your next to last subject was history. "All right class, take out your books and turn to page four thirty two... today we will be reviewing the French and American war against the British. You should have learned this in eighth grade..." 

You take out your book and turn to the page number written on the board. You have always hated the smell of history books... You drift off...

You keep thinking about what is going to happen when you meet him, will you faint? Scream?

And in about four hours, I will be out and headed for Hawaii... With Josh.  You think about what he might think about you. Weird, crazy, obsessive? Most likely all three combined. You think of what he might smell like. Look like, dress like, act like, be like. Josh.

You feel like you are going to explode with feels. JOSH. HUTCHERSON. Will he talk about his upcoming movies, Jennifer Lawrence, relationship status? You don't really care if he talks about that or not, really, just seeing Josh was enough. Your just another one of his crazed fans, that's all you will be to him...

You start fantasizing about you and him on the beach in Hawaii, him talking to other, much hotter girls than you were, laying on his back so he could look up at the sun, you fantasize about him calling you and asking if you wanted to go to the pool later... images play so vividly in your head.

"Taylor," you sigh deeply. "Yes," you breath out. Josh was standing in front of you. He grabbed a piece of your hair.

"Taylor, are you listening?" Yes, yes, yes. Whatever it was, yes. He leans in, kissing the version of you inside your head.

"Taylor! Snap out of it!" Josh was fading. No... no.. Please stay.. But the words wouldn't come out...

You open your eyes when you feel a sharp pain in your back. You fell asleep during history. You pick your head up and look at the jumble of words written on the white board.

"Huh.. What?" you are embarrassed. The whole class was looking at you and the teacher was puckering her lips. "I said, read the next chapter."

You scan the two pages, then started reading from a random column. "France was angry at the Americans for not helping them during-,"

The teacher, Mrs. Alexander, slapped her hand on her wooden desk. You jump.

"Wrong!  Pay attention." She glared at you, then called on someone else. You exhaled, not knowing that you were even holding your breath in the first place.

 

You sit on the foot of your bed with your suitcase laying next to your foot. Just one more hour... You think to yourself. You have to leave twenty minutes earlier in order to catch the flight. You are supposed to be in Los Angeles at six, so you could fly to Hawaii with Josh.

You stare at your Josh Hutcherson posters. In about two hours, you won't be looking at him in pictures, he will be standing right next to you, guiding you up the stairs and into the airplane.

Your mom calls you down for an early dinner. You explain to her that you shouldn't eat because it might not stay down anyways, but she insisted. You scoop up a forkful of noodles in tomato sauce. You didn't have to chew on them that much, they just slipped down your throat.

When you finish, you wipe the table down. Your mom laughs.

"I don't think I could go a week with out my little baby," you look up at her, and fold your arms around her. She tucks her head behind yours. "It's only a week, you'll be fine, and so will I. I'm seventeen, mom." She exhaled, and you could feel her hot breath on your neck.

 

 

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