I regretted asking that INSTANTAEOUSLY. I mean someone is actually talking to me! Why on Earth did I have to ruin it?! Gosh.
His head shot up and his blue orbs looked puzzled. He lifted his lips to talk but the discordant bell stopped him. A wave of relief engulfed my body as I hurried out of the class.
Now, in cliché movies the boy would take the phone which of course I had forgotten on my desk, run dramatically and give it back to the girl while proclaiming their love for each other. Nup no. He took the phone with him. I obliviously realized I left my phone in the room as soon as I stepped out of the class but this weird phenomenon called laziness made me not go and get it, conveniently saving the awkward 'sorry why am I not supposed to talk to u ?, your confusing as crap' talk till later.
Running late to music I walked faster towards the large sound proof bricked building. Yes, they called this building “The Music Rooms”. My class was already in, saving me the utter humiliation of well… being me. I walked in expecting thirty eyes staring me down again but no, the same peculiar scene played out in music. All were huddled around one desk. I knew this all too well.
James Garret. The same boy I’ve been trying to ignore for the past 8 or so minutes was once again the reason for this. Great.
It seemed like déjà vu when the teacher called out me and him partners again! Sorry but does the World want me to die in humiliation!
This time he didn’t sit next to me. Way to go Natasha. Way to fucking go.
I picked up the courage and went and sat next to him, ignoring the thirty stares AGAIN. He gave me a sharp nod and looked away.
“What instrument do you play?” he asked after a way too long of a silence.
“A bit of guitar” I said expecting him too blow me off again. I told you he was unique. He grabbed my hand leading me to one of the practice rooms swiftly grabbing a mahogany guitar from the rack. He made me sit down with a sharp gesture of his fore finger and nodded expecting me to play. After I strummed a couple of chords he stopped me.
“What? “ I asked annoyed because the riff sounded mighty good.
“Sing” he said
“What? I don’t sing”
“Don’t toy with me, the whole way through art you were singing”
“WHAT” I nearly screamed. Let’s just take a moment to process this. While I was having quite severe heart trauma and excessive sweating I was singing. Great. Perfect.
“No” I said bluntly
“YEAA BUDDY! SING PEASENT “he gloated.
Strumming a pattern of G, C and F chords I sang.
‘Why'd you have to wait to find me, to find me?’
I sang the last line completely shaken and in shock. How did I, the shyest kid ever sing for someone I met an hour ago? This boy was having some kind of weird effect on me. I couldn’t do it. Looking at him would be too much. Disgust was probably plastered on his face or maybe he was covering his ears?
Hesitantly I tried lifting my head to meet his.
Then the bell rang. Saving me again from well -him.
I raced outside grabbing my stuff including my phone (he had given it back to me) and walked away into break.
I walked into stall 22 in the girl’s toilets and ate.
Stall 22 was my home away from home. It was where I spent every break since middle school. It was a pink cubicle filled with graffiti. My favorite drawing was this flower someone drew. It was a pretty daisy at first but someone else had scratched over it and also adding red marker drops. It was so symbolic. A beautiful flower white and perfect stained with red. I drew it everywhere- in my books, papers, text books. It symbolized me.
Suddenly I heard a light knock. Immediately I bang my feet on the toilet seat in an almost tuck position hoping the person outside would just leave.
I heard it again.
A pair of skinny jeans and converse could be seen by the little peep hole at the bottom.
“Go away” I screamed
“Make me” said an all too familiar voice
What was he doing in a ladies room?
Dang it! Again!
I opened the door to a satisfied James.
“What do you want?”
Kids help line: 13 11 14
Stay strong and don’t doubt yourself. You have a purpose in life!
Love you all
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