Johnny Orlando Imagines

+ euphoria. 4

hello, hello!
how you been?

★ ⸻ ☾ ⸻ ★

he's literally beyond compare :/

★ ⸻ ☾ ⸻ ★

:) reader.

Thursday was considerably hard to get through.

I had stepped foot in school this morning expecting a damn good explanation from Johnny Orlando as to why he was asking me to come around just to blow me off the very next moment. Lingering in a troubled corner of my mind had been the unsettling image of the stranger from yesterday, a wave of goosebumps had washed over me when I'd recalled the thinness of the space between us.

Only one person holds the key to my puzzlement, and it was that one person that wasn't on campus since the dawn of this painfully slow day.

I sat in my last class, English, with my leg bouncing rather annoyingly. There were only ten minutes left for the period to end, and Mr. Harris dedicated it solely to ask everyone where they and their partner had gotten with the project. About three pairs had already answered, there weren't many students left for the bottle to finally land on me.

It was pointless and entirely hopeless to still hope for Johnny to show up in the remnants of this class so that I wouldn't have to explain his absence. I didn't know where he was per usual. That, however, was hardly something I could say to Mr. Harris, he had been crystal clear of the importance of communication in the grading of our assignment. I couldn't just tell him that my partner and I were in the negative of this scale.

I had lied to him rather fluently the other day to save Johnny from taking a hesitant fall, but I wasn't sure if I could fake another meeting at the library.

Almost as if whoever was up there had seen enough of misery, or maybe it was the annoyed boy who kept glaring at me for the sound my foot made every time it pounded on the floor, some kid walked into the room and occupied Mr. Harris with some paperwork. I sighed in utter relief and swiped my sweaty palms on my jeans. It took a lot of gnawing on my lip for the bell to finally conclude yet another tiring day at school.

One moment I was shuffling out of my seat and in the next I was avoiding being pushed around in the bustling crowd of energized peers.

I gasped out an immediate apology when I felt myself bump into someone because of the sudden gust of wind that a kid left behind as he whizzed past me. The dirty blonde head sparked a tingle of hope somewhere in my chest, but it died down into something much more flustering when it turned around to face me.

"Hey," Lauren Orlando smiled at me, waving off our little collision in her therapeutic voice. "Are you alright?"

I blinked, wondering why my vocabulary felt lost as I gazed into those familiar pools of rich forests. She blinked back, her smile a moment away from drooping to a frown at my unresponsiveness, probably worried that the answer to her polite question was no.