lover boy

part two

my alarm annoyingly rings at exactly 7:30 in the morning. i'm still so tired my head could spontaneously combust without an issue. sometimes i wish it would do that. spontaneously combust. just to make it stop moving, stop working. but that would induce so many more issues that i can't even process this early in the morning.

i roll out of bed, put my slippers on and slowly step to the bathroom. one, two, three. one, two, three. one, two. i reach the bathroom. i sigh while i brush a little mascara on, the only reason why i do that is because if i didn't i would hear the end of, "where are your eyelashes?" and "are you sick?" so i do it anyway. i like my face with it though. it's just a pain to do. i finish one side of my eye when i get a notification that i got a text.

kaylea: are you coming today?

i wish i couldn't. i wish i could just be put on bed rest but have unlimited food and drinks and stuff.

millie: yeah, why?
kaylea: the field trip, remember?

crap.

millie: yea, im getting ready now lol
millie: can i sit with you?
kaylea: nope im sitting with ambre.

in all honesty i didn't even want to sit with her, she talks a lot and if the trip is going to last any longer than fifteen minutes i'll probably jump out.

i didn't even know i had a field trip today. i know nothing about it. i quickly brush on the rest of my mascara and get dressed. there's another ding that comes on my phone.

kaylea: how many pairs of socks are you bringing? idk how many i should bring.
millie: socks?
kaylea: millie. it's a two day trip. you're gonna need more than a pair of socks.

TWO DAYS?!

millie: lol um bring four pairs just in case they get wet or something
kaylea: ok

she's not going to bring four. i doubt she'll being more than the ones she wearing on her feet. i scurry around my room finding clothes to wear. i'm going to need two pairs of comfortable clothes, two pairs of normal clothes, and whatever i'm wearing now. why can't i remember things like this? packing bags whenever you're in a time crunch might be top ten of stupidest things to do because i ended up with clothes that definitely don't match and 7 pairs of underwear. i took a handful. i slip my black converse on when i hear the bus pulling up. i grab my bags and i run outside.

i hate the bus. the bus is filled with teens and hormones and cuss words. i sit down, thinking about what i do like. a very small list i might add.

i like my family, cats, books, headphones, tea (only when it's cold tea though), soft blankets on freshly shaven legs, and that's it. that's all i really like. those 6 things. no one sits near me, it's almost like i've got the plague and everyone's scared. it was probably just a coincidence though. i hate that it's like that. i do want friends to laugh and chat with. this happen like that.

we arrive at school, girls and boys everywhere. i soon realize that it's not just girls that are getting on these three buses. it's both boys and girls. i sigh getting off the bus.

"everyone! go to the bathroom while you can!! this is a long trip!" mrs lunds shouts. i walk to the bathrooms, slightly hoping they'll leave without me. i use the bathroom, taking my time. i wash my hands two more times than i needed when i notice that the yelling and talking that there was before is now muffled. i glance outside when i see there's one other girl still getting on the bus. i walk back to the bus.

the girl sits with her friend. there are little twin sized beds in every row. two people to each bed. i look around, hoping there's someone i slightly know here, i'd be fine if a single girl that was by herself would be here. none. "miss rogan! row m is the only open row!" i drag my feet to row m. giggles going around as i pass. row m is seated with the one and only nick nelson.

"oh look nick! you're girlfriend is with you!" harry exclaims. everyone bursts out in laughter. nick smiles at me, sitting up. "nice to see you." he says. i feel bad. i feel bad that i'm seated next to him. me. millie rogan is seated next to nick nelson. one of the boys that is always so nice to me. it's not his fault i'm seated here. i could've been put on bus 1701 or bus 1703 but i'm seated on bus 1702 row m. and here i am. feeling bad. guilty even. i hope he can't read my thoughts. "sorry." i politely say, sitting next to him, my bags sliding underneath us. he nods.

i hope it's not going to be this awkward.