Note: The photo on the side in supposed to be Chazza, but imagine her with lighter hair (when I edited the photo I couldn't get rid of the red so had to stick with dark brown), Chaz's hair is light brown in le story.
Hope you enjoy! :D
In life there are so many things that you can immediately deem ‘unfair’. For example, when you’re about to go to a party and it suddenly rains, soaking you, drenching your hair and making your mascara run down your face.
Lying on the lush green grass in my back garden with the summer breeze drifting through the trees and birds overhead singing sweetly, the most unfair thing is having to wait.
I have absolutely no patience. If I text someone urgently needing an answer and they don’t reply within fifteen minutes, I will go crazy.
Which is exactly what’s happening now.
My mum had sent me outside after I had resorted to turning the volume on my radio up to the loudest and stomping my feet on the floor just to keep myself occupied.
“Have a nap in the garden,” my mum, wannabe hippie, complete with tie-dye summer dress and cup of green tea, had said calmly, “That always de-stresses me…” I rolled my eyes at her, envious of how she can always be so down to earth and positive.
She may be able to lie on the damp grass all afternoon at risk of getting ants in her pants and not give a damn, but I can barley sit still for two minutes. I’m constantly checking my blackberry for some kind of notification or text from my best friend, Harry. He had promised to text me as soon as he heard anything, good news or bad, I would be the first to know, he had said.
Several thousand boring minutes later and I still have no messages. I don’t understand? It’s nearly four o’clock! He’s meant to be back home at six! Now I’m getting worried.
Fed up and dizzy from staring at the sky for too long, I go to get a glass of water from the kitchen. It’s cooler inside the house so I decide to stay here sitting on the marble counter tops waiting for Harry’s text.
I find a black marker pen by the kettle and begin carefully decorating my glistening white trainers with stars and musical notes. I’m just about to add a drawing of a microphone when my phone leaps into life. My foot slips off of the counter in surprise and I end up leaving a long black line across my trainers and my skinny jeans.
Scrambling to snatch my phone I nearly drop it into the sink but catch it and click the button to read Harry’s message,
I got through! Big news, though! Tell you more when I get back! :)
I jump a mile high. Maybe higher, I wasn’t paying much attention. On my way back down I also knocked over my glass of water, which poured off of the counter and onto the floor.
I didn’t care, but mum wasn’t happy. She heard me screaming and ran down the stairs and demanded I clean it all up immediately.
“So, he got through?” she asks smiling when I’ve finished,
I had to stop myself from screaming, “He’s going to the Judges Houses!!!” This time we both squealed as we jumped around the kitchen table.
“I should bake him a cake!” my mum had randomly announced. She then began pulling out bowls and spoons from the cupboards and then rushing around to find eggs and sugar and flour.
I left her to it. I could hear her humming happily to herself as I ascended the staircase towards my bedroom. The radio is still on, but a lot quieter this time. I sit at my dresser and check my reflection in the mirror.
I laugh out loud thinking how much I have changed in the past five years, since I first met Harry.
It was the second day of our first year at High School and so far I had made no new friends. My other friends were all in classes I wasn’t, so I would always sit alone at desks and never speak.
That all changed in fourth period Maths, thanks to Mr Taylor.
I’m not saying Mr Taylor is a good teacher; he was one of the worst. He was terrifying; massive, built like a brick wall with a very bad haircut and a suit and tie. His voice would drone on and on, making you want to snooze on top of your algebra homework, but if you did that then you should expect a loud, metallic thump as he slammed a ruler to the desk to wake you up.
“Line up, you lot. Boys on the left, Girls on the right.” He had commanded outside the classroom as we were dreading our first lesson. He had shoved us into the classroom one by one, placing boys next to girls.