Chapter two: Zombie Land

2.    Zombie Land

“Sorry.  Not all of us are as lucky as you.  My dad didn’t pass me down a barely used Subaru. I worked hard for my rust-bucket, as you call it, and it suits me just fine.”  Chase sounded a little defensive.  I wasn’t trying to be insensitive or brag.  I know that I was lucky that my father gave me the car, but he didn’t give it to me because I was special; he seriously never used it.

Since I became old enough to drive, he quit driving almost all together.  Well, until he got his electric car.  There isn’t anywhere he goes that doesn’t have a port for him to charge his car.  He loves rubbing in gas prices with me.  “So Luc, what did it cost you this week to fill up The Subaru?”  No matter what cost I tell him, he always replies, “Ha, isn’t that something? I haven’t been to a gas station in months!”  Sometimes, I wish my mother would have taken his car, so she could deal with his banter. I would have loved to have her Beetle. 

It was nothing personal about Chases’ car, sure it was fun to pick on, but really I just wanted to take my car because mine has AC. 

“Hey Chase, get it right.  It’s not a Subaru it is The Subaru.”  It was a joke between us.   My father would always refer to the car as if it were a name of a fierce wrestler.  “Hey Dad, can I take your car to the movies?” “You can take The Subaru anywhere if you are back by curfew.” 

“Let’s be honest, The Subaru comes with one feature your ride doesn’t—AC.  Unless, you want to go to the ball looking like you just ran ten miles in your Tux, with a date that you peeled of the concrete, I suggest we take the Ru.  But, hey, it’s your call.” I teased.

It was so easy to make Chase laugh.  After we laughed at my dad, it was easy to finish our plans for the ball tomorrow.  We agreed that he would drive to my house by 5:30, so we could take pictures with my parents, then he would leave his rust-bucket, oops—I mean car, at my house.  He would drive my car to his parent’s house to continue our model session then to the ball. 

We had a bet wagering on who would be the first to want to leave.  He bet I wouldn’t make it to see Andrew and Claire be crowned.  I bet he wouldn’t make it past two songs with my awesome dance moves.  I foresaw a faked injury on his behalf. 

I hadn’t thought of them until he mentioned their names.  After he mentioned them, my eyes scanned over the zombie infected lunch room.  I was surprised so many of them were here today, even considering the juniors that were in attendance. 

I was so grateful to have Chase, especially when I came into the lunchroom, or when I was walking out into the parking lot after school.  When I was alone, I felt like I was trapped in another dimension. 

Looking around the room, not one person was eating.  I wasn’t either at the moment, because I just finished eating my salad.  Chase was picking at some fries, but everyone else still had trays filled with food. 

Besides the movement of hands taping on their gadgets the cafeteria was still.  Everyone was on their gadgets; phones, tablets, computers, or whatever device that held their fixations.  I was so out of the loop for my age.  I bet out of the majority of the lunchroom 90% of them were on Caption-It.  

Caption-it is the way my generation socializes with each other.  They basically put every trendy social-media app from the generation before together; changed chats to sticky-notes and utilized the front-facing camera. 

It is addicting because whatever someone post you can add cartoons to caption their words, or if they post a picture or video you can caption the image. 

The Caption-it plague hit my school so fast we were given a conference week off.  The administration had to evaluate the situation and make adjustments to the school policies and rules.  It was such a spectacle, I heard Mr. Volte showed up in person to our academy. 

The week we returned to school we all were given new handbooks with a special section dedicated to Caption-it and other internet mingling.  

We are only allowed to use our phones and or gadgets on a lunch hour and in the parking lot.  The following week teachers and staff members began sending us caricature request on Caption-it. 

I had an account once, before my parent’s got accounts, but I deleted it once I saw how socially handicapped it truly was.  The only fun I had on Caption-it was with Chase.  We use to have a ball captioning our photos.

Otherwise, it was a gossipy, attention-needy, socially discriminating internet wormhole.  I deleted my account in the beginning of sophomore year.  That is when my relationship with Claire changed.  It wasn’t just with her.  It was with most people I used to actually have face-to-face conversations with. 

They took it so personally if they lost one caricature on their comic strip.  I hadn’t realized at the time that if we weren’t Caption-it friends, then we weren’t real life friends either. 

I looked over at the table Chase and I use to sit at.  It looked as if they were playing musical chairs, but they were all taking turns taking pics of themselves with their ‘besties’.  I could imagine them uploading their pics to Caption-it with titles like, ‘Me and so-and-so eating lunch last day of senior year.’

Okay, they probably were writing things more clever, but it was so annoying.   Instead of genuinely having an experience on their last day, they were staging moments in their life to post. 

Claire jumped on Andrew’s lap and took a pic of them.  Of course she took the picture, because once she got her own camera phone, she wouldn’t let anyone take a picture of her or with her unless she did her own ‘selfie.’  She was convinced nobody knew how to proper take her picture but herself. 

My belly ached imagining what the post of her and Andrew captioned.  I didn’t wish that it was me per say, but I thought she was lucky to be able to take pics with him in the first place. 

“Ah…there it is,” Chase mused. 

“There what is?”

“I was going to ask when exactly you lost your count when I saw you two talking at study hall.  But I figured you would yak my ear off about it.  You haven’t said anything.  But, I know.” 

“Yeah.  You do know.  I also know how much you love to aggravate me with Andrew teases. I figured you would have asked me about it, while flattening my ego or something.  I wouldn’t want to take that fun from you.  Besides, you distracted me with all that prom talk.  All that talking about you in a tux, well…”

He threw a fry at my head.  “Oh no!  That was close, luckily it didn’t poke your eye out.  How else would you stare at them?  You call them zombies, but you should see the way you ogle at him.”

“I lost my count at thirty days, but I guess it shouldn’t take me too long to get it back.  Considering, in a couple days I plan on never seeing Him or Claire again.  I was staring at them thinking at first, how we use to sit there with those zombies.  Then, I wondered what Claire posted about her selfie with Andrew.  Jealousy maybe.  And finally, I wondered if she was sitting right next to him messaging him about our disagreement today.”

Chase wanted the dirt about our disagreement, so I told him.  He thought it was lame and I was a stupid girl at the end of my story.  He assumed it was going to be a real catfight.  “You did it all wrong Lucy.  She is selfish and you know that.  The only reason why she cares that you didn’t tell Mr. Montgomery is because you not going this fall screws her.  She can careless about your future.  She just wanted to sponge off you as a roommate.”  All I could do was laugh, because he was right. 

He pulled out his phone and began tapping around like the zombie-heads.   “The title of her post is: My love and I getting ready to start a new chapter in our lives.  Do you want to see the pic?”  I threw more fries at him then he hit me with. 

“You know Luc, you are right.  Can you believe we use to sit there with them?  Okay, you can believe it, because we did.  But, what were we thinking?  I can’t wait for Arizona.” 

I knew what he was really saying.  He was really saying that he can’t believe that he dated Courtney.  But, I wasn’t going to dig that burn any deeper, “Either can I Chase.  That is why I am following you there buddy!”

The rest of the day flew by.  I didn’t feel that my math test went as bad as I dreaded, so I was pleased.  When Chase and I walked down the stairs into the parking lot we both gave each other a high five, “Way to go Buddy. “  I pushed Chase to the side off the sidewalk, because the zombie-heads were coming drone into their gadgets. 

They never paid attention to where they were going, but somehow still managed to move as a crowd.  Ironically, we were standing next to an old sign that read: DON’T TEXT AND DRIVE.  I laughed at it and pointed, “They should update this thing to say: DANGER.  DON’T TEXT AND WALK.”  I caught Chase by surprise when I asked him to pull out his phone and take a pic of us by it, for memory sake.  “Really?  Lucille not only wants to participate in a selfie, she encouraged it.” 

“Who else is going to take it?  It isn’t like anyone will pay attention to us now.” But after I said it, I saw Mr. Montgomery.  I called out to him and he took our picture.  Chase uploaded it to Caption-it being sarcastic.  “Does this mean you are going to return to Caption-it to stalk Andrew, oops I mean, to see our picture?” 

“Ha-ha, funny.  Not a chance.  Email me it though.”  Chase gave me a hug and left me to fight the zombies alone.  All this time I thought he was walking me to me car, when really he was just leaving too.  He had my front row spot and left me stranded. 

While walking to Ru, I noticed that many people sat on the hoods of their cars to continue to text, or message.  I hadn’t noticed that in a while.  It is the only new change in our society that I completely, wholeheartedly agree with.  And, we all have Mr. Volte to thank for it. 

Although it was a major problem, texting and driving before Mr. Volte lost a close family member, little effect or change was happing to prevent it.  Then, when he lost someone close he helped develop a device to prevent texting and driving.  Once the device is installed into your car, it won’t allow you to start your vehicle until your phone is connected to it. 

It automatically works as a hands free phone.  These days hardly anyone actually speaks on the phone personally, unless it is an emergency.  I always just leave my phone plugged into it. I actually had to upgrade my phone to be compatible with the device.  Because, it is now a law for all minor drivers to have it installed before we get our license.  We have to register our cars, Safe Drive device and our phones with the DMV. 

Like all things that have a positive, if you look closer into it you can find negative.  That was always the case with all these new updates and new rules to our new more up-to-date society.  The majority of the kids I knew hated the Safe Drive device. 

It wasn’t long before people started making apps and new phones that had a hands free text.  So technically, there was still texting and driving.  People just said aloud what they wanted to text and the phone would do it for them. 

Many people would believe that was a win-win solution, but it isn’t.  There are still accidents from people getting so frustrated with the voice processor.  These voice processors often confuse words and sentiment.   The sentiment of meaning is what drives me the craziest with all technology.  It is so hard to be sure of one’s meaning over text. 

I felt a little numb or off when I got to my car.  The whole day felt so off though, starting with waking up.  Normally, when I got to my car after school I immediately occupied my mind with busy work, anything to not think of Andrew.  But today I had nothing to occupy my mind, because I had no more homework or studying. 

I took off this week at work, so I wasn’t going to be going there anytime soon.  I thought about tomorrow and the ball.  But, I made my dress months ago and my mom bought me all the accessories to match at her last art fair. 

I looked at the radio and almost considered it, but my gut reacted in warning.  I haven’t listened to music in so long. I genuinely missed it, but I had to take a break from music because every song seemed to be singing my song.  Rather it be a sloppy love song, or a miss you so much my heart can barely take it, or a hey will you notice me and my pure jealousy song; whatever the song, it always reminded me of Andrew somehow. 

Even though I wasn’t in a hurry to leave, I started my car and put on my seatbelt.  I looked over at my phone sitting in its device.  It was blinking, I decided to listen to see what I missed.  I pressed the hands free button on my radio and turned up the speakers.  “Hello Lucille, you have five missed calls and three missed text.  What would you like to address first?” 

I felt utterly stupid as I talked out loud to myself, “Calls.”  “Five missed calls from your contact Mom and no voicemails.”  Grunting to myself, I wondered if I should be worried.  While feeling guilty for wondering if I should worry in the first place.  But, knowing my mom it was probably something silly. 

I then prompted to seek out who text me, I received two text from Claire and one from my mom.  Again, I struggled with the feeling of guilt and or the lack of.  Who do I want to know first?  Okay, Mom I’ll bite, “Read text from Mom.”  “Where are you?  Are you coming home or not?”  Annoyed I asked for Claire’s text, “Luc I don’t know who you are anymore.  You were rude and I think you should apologize.  I have a life without being selfish.”  I felt so bad hearing her first text as the next one went on, from lunch time, “Last day of school and you rather sit with Chase alone then with me and everybody, whatever.”

What?  I was confused because I haven’t sat with them at lunch all year!  I prompted my phone to text my mom, “I just got out of school, on my way home. See you in thirty minutes.”

Chapter One: Finally

I jumped out of bed like it was on fire.  The t-shirt I slept in stuck to me like a thick layer of melted skin.  I may have liquefied and clumped back together again. 

Discombobulated, I scratched my hair that itched from sweat.  Without looking at the clock, I knew I overslept.  The sun peeped through my window like an unwanted visitor.  I never saw the sun this way at this time of day.   Normally, I was at school already, or sleeping in on the weekends. 

Staring at the tiny dust particles that hovered in the sunlight, I wondered where I normally would be; when the sun chases away the leftover darkness of night and says, “Go away now—I got this.”  I glared back at the window, hoping that the more I looked at it, I would be able to change what I saw somehow. As if I had the power to darken the sky and make everything as it should be. 

   My brain finally woke up with an alarm in my mind, screeching, “I’m late.  Darn it…I’m late.”  I ran to my closet, scanning over what I had to wear, but nothing jumped out to me.  Leaping to my dresser, “We can’t turn on the air Lucille.  Blah, blah…the budget Lucille.” I mocked my mother.  Throwing the content of my dresser on the floor, I continued to blame my mother. 

This preseason scorcher had me doing summersaults all night.  I begged my mom to turn on the air-conditioning, “Please Mom, be reasonable.  I have finals tomorrow.” It was a waste of time, because all she did was give me a lecture about the budget.  “Honey, one day you are going to have a house of your own to budget, and then, you will understand.  It’s not personal, it just doesn’t fit in our budget.”

You can’t budget the utility bills in Cleveland, Ohio.  What are my parents new?  Who hasn’t heard, “Welcome to Cleveland, if you don’t like the weather just stick around it will change.”   They turn on the AC on the first official day of summer and turn it off no later than the first day of fall. 

It’s the same thing with the heat in winter.   At least when I am cold I can add layers of warmth.  In the summer there is only so much I can take off, especially in my parents’ home.   This is all incentive for me to finally move out and get my own place.  Reminding me of my point; I overslept on my last day of finals.                   

Slipping on the same jeans I wore yesterday, I noticed my tablet on the floor.  I picked it up. It must have flown there when I jumped out of bed so fast.  The battery was dead.  Great!  So maybe it wasn’t entirely my mother’s fault.  I had a feeling I was going to oversleep, but I also wondered if my tablet had enough battery for my alarm.  I guess not. 

I grabbed my book-bag and got halfway down the stairs, before I turned around and ran back up them towards the shower.  My tank top was already clinging into yesterday’s funk.  I wouldn’t have been able to focus all day, worrying that the musk of yesterday was polluting my classrooms. 

My mind was great for staging the drama of bored teens, “Hey guys…what’s that rotten onion smell?” Sniff…sniff, “Oh, its Lucy.”  A room full of mean teen’s taunting laughter later, “God, Lucy, you’re supposed to cook with onions, not bathe in them.”  Ha-ha.

Of course, the parking lot was already filled by the time I pulled in.  I couldn’t help but to feel a little attitude towards whomever parked in my normal spot.  Okay, so I don’t own the spot.  However, everyone at Volte Academy knows I park in the same spot every day.  Doesn’t that count for anything? 

I jumped out of the Subaru, my father’s hand-me-down used car and ran across the parking lot.  I purposely turned to notice the rust-bucket that was comfortably parked front row in my spot.   I laughed, “Chase.”  Of course he would park there just get me going. 

        When I walked up the stairs, I noticed my reflection in the glass window.  I started running my fingers through my still soaking wet hair.  I felt very self-conscious and nervous.  Which was odd, because I normally don’t care how I look or try to impress anyone.  However, I normally don’t leave the house until I feel comfortable myself in what I am wearing. 

I don’t have any big beauty secrets or routines.  I know no amount of cream or blush will turn me into walking-talking magazine cover.  I do the best I can with what I have.  Usually, this means, taking the time to be presentable.  However, time was spiraling out of my control today. 

I already placed a bet with the Universe that I would run into him constantly.  Starting with now, the moment I open the door. 

        Why Universe, why?   “Uh, Hey,” I managed to choke out as I almost ran right into him.  He eyed me once over as I ran past. “Late night Lucille?” I turned back towards him still power walking, “You know how it is.” 

You know how it is? What does that mean?  Am I implying that I’m some night owl like him?  Like I would know how he spends his nights.  Geez, Lucille…Geez.  I reminded myself to stay focused.  Senior year finals are a big deal.  I have been waiting for this day for what feels like my entire life, so I can finally begin my own life. 

        He has just been abnormally in my path these last few days. 

When I finally got to my English class I crossed my fingers hoping the door wasn’t locked.  I sighed with relief when the door swung open, then I sighed with embarrassment when Mr. Montgomery made an announcement to the class, “Prepared students will you all take the moment to welcome Ms. Raven who finally decided to show up for finals?”  I gave a sassy, “Thank you,” and bowed before I sat in my seat.  Claire rolled her eyes at me and whispered, “Only you.” 

        Normally, I hate when someone says that to me.  Only me what?  Nobody else in the school has been late before?  Nobody else rides the embarrassment in good fun?  But, I didn’t let that bother me today.  Actually, I was happy for the whisper of, “Only you.”  It was a lot better than repeating the bump into Him over and over again in head.  

        Mr. Montgomery let us leave when we were finished with our test.  Since I was late, I was one of the last kids to finish.  I was feeling pretty confident with myself, considering I was so late.  I breezed through the final, while a couple kids still struggled with it. 

  He wished us all, “Good luck in your upcoming journeys,” to our face, then when we turned our backs he said, “Good riddance!”  Even with his attempt at humor, I got very emotional.  Last day of high school English, wow.  When he saw my teary eyes he looked at me amused, “Why the sad eyes Ms. Raven?  I’m going to see you next year.”  With a guilty smile I humored, “That’s the plan isn’t it?”

        Claire as always was waiting by the door for me.  She rolled her eyes, “Lucy I can’t believe you haven’t told him that you aren’t going this fall!  He did so much for you and you just blow it all off.  What a disappointment.”  In complete perplexity I hushed her out the door. 

When we walked far enough away from Mr. Montgomery’s class I gave Claire back change on her two cents.  “Claire, I can’t believe you said that so loud in his class.  I’m so happy he wasn’t paying attention to you.” She stopped to have a dramatic pause, then she widened her eyes in warning that she was going to speak. I widened mine bigger and beat her to it.  “He was just trying to be funny anyways, like implying I failed my final so he’d see me next year.” 

“Well it is the truth!  You were lucky to have someone pull strings for you last minute.  Now, you are just blowing everything and everybody off.  You are going to regret it.  This is your future.  If you don’t care…who will?”

“Wow Claire, now I don’t care about my future?  That is the whole point.  This is my future not anybody else’s.  I can’t live my life for other people; I have to do what I want to do.  That is what is best for me.” 

“That’s so selfish Luc…just saying.” 

        I stopped walking when I reached the computer lab.  I considered just dropping it and going in.  Truly there was no need to be petty or try to convince a straight rod to bend, but something in the smugness on her face egged me on.  “Fine Claire, I’m selfish.  Maybe you should try to be more selfish, so you can have some business in your own life and stay out of mine.”  Before she could respond I turned my back and went into the lab. 

        The moment I sat in my chair I already felt so bad.  I wanted to apologize, not because I felt I was wrong, but because I felt like I was mean.  I don’t like conflict, but I despise bossy people more. 

It wasn’t like I asked Mr. Montgomery to pull strings for me at the Art Institute.  He took it upon himself to feel important and see how far his history of teaching there could go.  I prayed that since he was a part-time instructor that they wouldn’t do him any favors.  But, against my will and wishes they looked at my file and portfolio.   

        As a matter of fact, his invasive behavior is what brought on all my air quote selfishness.  It all began the beginning of junior year.  Our first essay was to write what we were going to be when we grew up.  Although the paper was very juvenile sounding, I was very excited about the essay.  The rest of the class joked about wanting to be a rock-star, princess, astronaut, etc.   I appreciated it and respected it, because the guideline for our essay made us think things through. 

I only knew that I wanted to do something in the arts, but I couldn’t decide on any one area.  I flipped around from fashion design to fine art’s major so much, it was an incrustation on my thoughts for the future.

Having this assignment made me focus on the five-ten years from now to build the ultimate future I would desire to have.  Not a future that my parents thought I should have, or a future that Volte Academy wanted me to have.  The future I wanted to have. I wanted to study all arts.  I first planned on getting my fashion design degree then returning to school and to get a masters in the arts.  I figured I could go to school and do part-time free-lance work.  My ultimate goal was to teach at some point, but not until I got my hands dirty enough. 

I spent the entire weekend writing and rewriting the essay, and I was the first person to turn it in. I was so proud, confident that I was going to get an A.  Apparently, he glanced over my essay while we were working in class and tried to hand it back to me.  He asked me to spend more time on it without writing the first thoughts that came to my mind.  I was so offended! 

He just assumed I was rambling some B.S. essay, when I really expressed my passions and goals.  I refused to take my paper with the defense that he needed to take more than five minutes to glance over it.  You know, actually read it before he judges it. 

        The next day in class he handed me my paper as I walked past his desk.  I was in disbelief when I saw a big capital I in red across my paper.  I went through all the grading letters in my head and couldn’t figure out what I meant.  On the back of the paper he wrote a message.  I for incomplete, I will hold the grade for this essay.  Please take the time to consider your future and how it fits in with society’s future.  When you figure out your plan, please share with me in written form your goals.  Your goals should contribute to society logically.  Take your time, your assignment will not be late.  –Mr. Montgomery

        I held my stance and so did Mr. Montgomery.  I never rewrote the paper.  He never found that acceptable.  By Winter break he called a conference with the principal, the guidance counselor and my parents.  After having to sit through all their speeches about talent I plan to waste in a society that was built to enhance me.  Blah, blah, blah…if only they had this chance when they were my age, etc… Mr. Montgomery asked to speak to me alone while my parents waited in the hall. 

“Look kiddo, I’m not trying to pick on you here.  It is just the opposite.  It is okay to be different and unique, you just have to fulfill your part in society first.   Let them notice you, then you will be given a chance to be as creative as you want.” 

I just sat there silently.  I knew he didn’t really want to hear my mouth.  He wanted me to hear what he was saying.  After the silence became awkward I gave in, “Okay…Okay.  I will consider how much society is changing and consider how I can change to move forward too.” 

“If you only knew how lucky you are kid.   When I was a kid I was promised jetpacks by the age I am now, and your generation may finally get it.”   We both laughed as I went to face my parents, although I was laughing because he reminded me of an old indie band I like, We Were Promised Jetpacks.  

My parents were outside the classroom confirming my attendance to Mr. Gladys The Society and You orientations. 

I thought the orientation was horrible freshman year when I sat with the rest of my class through mandatory assemblies.  I later found out that we didn’t have it so rough.  They updated the assemblies with bad acting cheesy movie titles like: What is the Society without YOU?  And Your Future is knocking.  They were all intertwined with the Volte Industries campaign.   A part of the brainwashing that I am convinced will help Mr. Volte win presidency.       

        I hadn’t realized that I drifted off in thought until Evan nudged me from the seat next to me.  “Um…are you okay?”  I laughed it off, “Yeah I’m just so tired.  Ready to be done, ya’ know?” 

I gave all my attention to Mrs. Melrose, who was in the middle of explaining our final project.  She ran all around the bush.  Basically, instead of having another typical final we were going to be doing a short survey with random stimulated situations.  She encouraged us to do the best we could and hoped we all could impress Mr. Volte.   I groaned.   From flashback to present we are continuing to support the brainwashing for his empire. 

        After computer lab, I walked to my locker out of habit.  Normally I go to exchange books, but today I was only going to meet Chase.  We always walk to study hall together.  I ran quickly while Chase’s head was still inside his locker, then I slapped my locker that is right next to his as loud as I could.  He didn’t really jump as much as he looked like he lost control of his arms. 

His arms shook in every direction as he dropped all he was holding on the floor.  “Damn…Luc, you scared the crap out of me!”  I had to crisscross my legs because I was laughing so hard.  I couldn’t stop replaying his shocked reaction over in my mind, and I was afraid that I might pee from laughter.   

“Ha-ha, okay-okay….you got me, but it wasn’t that funny.”  Wiping the tears out of my eyes I chuckled, “I’m here for business, official business.  It’s time for you to pay up. Front row parking isn’t cheap.”  He wasn’t even amused with me; actually he was kind of mad.  “Help me clean up this mess you scared out of me and I’ll say we can call it even.”

He was finally cleaning out his locker, and I made him spill the garbage bag filled with his entire senior year.  I graciously helped him pick up the rummage of papers.  I left him to the rest of his locker when he declined going to study hall. 

I wondered if anybody would be in there considering we all only have finals left.  I was definitely going to review my flashcards for math.  Mr. Fry had warned us that this test would go over all the semesters of this year.  I barely remembered what we did last assignment; I knew I was in trouble. 

        I entered the empty study hall and took the closest seat.  Pulling out my flashcards for math I glanced over them.  It wasn’t long before I was twirling my hair with my fingers wishing I could pull it out completely. 

I began twirling my hair over and over again.   My fingers grabbed from my still damp roots and pulled down till I reached the tips, then I twisted my hair along my fingers back to my scalp where I let go, letting my hair fall.  I must have done it fifty times. 

The last time I done it, I held on to the twist and wrapped it around my upper lip like it was a mustache, mumbling to myself, “Blah, blah…stupid pre-university math. 

I let go of my twisted mustache and closed my mouth tightly shut when I heard the chair next to me move.  I hung my head mortified.  The way my heart was beating, I already knew who it was.  Him.  It was Him.  I did not want to look at him, nor did I want to sit right next to him. 

I’m in need of a serious intervention.  I could recognize him from his smell. 

Lifting my head, I released a huge breath.  “Laugh-out-loud, it seems you caught me with my I-hate-math-mustache.”  He looked at me as if he didn’t hear me.  My face got so clammy and hot.  I feared he heard my heart beating through my chest.

I tried to look away but he just sat right next to me staring.  Something about him possessed my vision—always.

Before I knew it I was snickering to myself, because it was truly odd.  “So, I’m studying for math.  How about you, what brings you to study hall?”  He cleared his throat, and looked like he was thinking cautiously before he spoke, “You.” 

My eyes bugged out of my head, “Me?”  I wondered if Claire told him about our little disagreement this morning.  “Yeah, I saw you sitting here while I was passing by.  I thought I would say hello.” 

“Well, hello Andrew!”   My head deflated into my shoulders.  I came off a bit more sarcastic then I intended.  I wasn’t trying to be rude, not at all.  I just have been working so hard to avoid him.  To get over this crazy obsession that consumed my entire existence.  I hadn’t thought, or said his name in thirty days. I have only been referring to him as Him. 

Him as a noun, because just saying or thinking for that matter, his name swallowed me into a bottomless pit of ache and desire.  Andrew Valentini. 

Andrew Valentini was my answer to everything, because that is all that consumed my thoughts.  From the moment I woke up, to the moment I went to bed to dream of him.  Now that I am forced to speak to him, he wouldn’t be the Him I fought to keep at distance.  He would be the Andrew Valentini that caged me into fantasy all over again. 

God, do I love the way his name rolls off my tongue…Andrew Valentini.

It’s not like I’m a stalker; it’s not like I can’t take a hint.  I especially know he is way out of my league.  I am not trying to work a love potion on anyone, I want to want someone who wants me too.  Ugh…Andrew Valentini why can’t I just forget you?

Bam, there it was the moment I looked back at him.  Only when I look at him do I get such an all-consuming warming sensation in the pit of my stomach.  His face reminded me of everything real, from his honey-dipped milk chocolate brown eyes, to his smile that is as wide and bright as the sun.  I’m not talking about some random clipart of a sun with pointy rays.  I mean the sun that illuminates the ocean.  The light that is so warm and inviting you just want to spend every moment soaking it up.  

“So?  Lucille?  Are you going tomorrow or not?” He chuckled to himself. 

“Going where?  What’s tomorrow?”

“The Ball!”

Exhaling relief with an aftertaste of embarrassment, “I was so confused for a moment, sorry.  Yes, I am going.  Chase convinced me I would regret it if I didn’t go.” I informed him.  Shaking his knee like he was impatient, he agreed.  “Although I don’t see the big deal, I have to agree with Chase.  I feel like I will regret it if I don’t go and said I did.”

The warming sensation in my stomach began to sour as I imagined him in a tux with Claire around his arms.  They’d both be beautiful no doubt.  Jokingly I said, “Like you had a choice in the matter!  Claire would never let you not go.  Every prom queen needs her prom king.”

Chase cleared his throat behind me, interrupting our laughter.  I should have been startled, but I was happy to not have to sit alone with Andrew anymore.  “Luc, are you going to lunch or did you pack something?”

“No…I mean yes.  Yes, I am going to lunch because I didn’t pack.  I overslept this morning.”  I stuttered. I hadn’t realized the bell rang until I watched Andrew shuffle into the now full hall.