Not only was exhaustion setting in as the day went on, but thoughts of Sean kept popping up in my mind like an annoying pop-up add. I had kept replaying this morning in my head over and over trying to remember it as a terrible experience but instead every time I thought of it I found myself smiling randomly in class. History was slowly nearing and I hadn't done anything to ready myself for that dazzling personality and beautiful smile of his. Lucky for me I didn't have to sit through lunch with him. I had tutoring during my lunch every Wednesday. I got my lunch and went to the library to tackle any assignment I needed help on with my tutor Miss. Hazel. Today she was having particular trouble keeping my mind in the books and out of the clouds. Around the end of the session she threw up her hands, looking to the sky, and said I should take care of whatever was bothering me and shooed me out of the library five minutes early. I slowly walked my way up to history, almost trudged. All I wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep until next week.
I dragged myself to my seat in the very back happy to be the first in the classroom. I put my head down on the slick wooden table surrounding my head with my arms to keep the light out. I let my eyes slide closed ignoring the pang in the back of my head. A moment later I felt a tap on my shoulder. I bolted up right, the classroom was full.
"Are we going to be making a habit of this headache or-deal?" Sean asked sliding into the seat next to me.
"Today I was sleeping, actually." I said smiling hoping that I wasn't dreaming. If I was dreaming it was a good so I might as well enjoy it. He grinned at me and pulled out his notes. My eyes widened, he had taken notes? He looked over and smiled at my reaction.
"What, haters don't take notes?" he asked.
"Um, actually, not usually." I said honestly. He handed to them to me. They were flawless, following every point of the lecture I had missed.
"I took some notes in algebra too if you want to gawk at those too." He said offering me his algebra notes. I looked over curious to see if he was offering me real notes. I looked at him, my mouth still opened stupidly in surprise. He chuckled as if he got this every day of his life.
"So you're smart and stuff?" I asked and he just nodded and looked toward the front of the room as Mr. Larson took his place in front of the board. I watched as he took notes trying to make sure it was really him that was taking the notes. He looked completely focused as he watched every movement of Mr. Larson. He even asked and answered questions: he participated. That was something none of the teachers at our school had seen in years. He looked over at me to find me staring at him yet again and grinned, but quickly focused his attention back to Mr. Larson's lecture.
I walked out of history with him only to find that I have Theater with him as well. I laughed my head off when he told me he had transferred into the class this morning via recommendation of Sophia, he didn't look like a theater guy to me. I also laughed all the way through theater as Mrs. Parkinson tried to explain the concept of 'cheating out' to him. When we took a break from rehearsal I walked up to him.
"So, theater isn't what you'd thought it'd be?" I guessed. He smiled at me ignoring my question and pointed to the music room.
"Are we allowed in there?" I watched his eyes light up.
"Yeah but most of us don't really..." he started walking toward the door. I ran to catch up falling into step with him. "Why are you going in there?" I asked looking over my shoulder making sure no one was watching me as I followed him. The music room was old, outdated, and rarely used anymore. Most everyone used the "fine arts center" at the other end of the school because the instruments weren't outdated and the technology was more updated.
"Because I'm stressed" he said simply. He didn't look stressed to me. "And when I'm stressed I like to listen to music but, because there is no music here for me to listen to, I'll make my own." All that was left in this music room was an old, slightly out of tune piano. He ran down the steps to the center of the room where the piano was placed and slid onto the bench. "Do you sing?" he asked.
