Five Weeks to Forever [BxB]

Chapter 4.

Television always made everything look so easy.

Take Highschool Musical, for example. One of the greatest theatrical releases of all time- according to Eloise, anyways- a multi-million dollar franchise, it's own select merch, music, vinyls, you name it, they've capitalized on it. With enough adaptations to give Lin Manuel Miranda a run for his money, you'd think the producers and screenwriters of the show would put some thought and effort into the storyline, to make it similar to an actual, real life American high school.

But no. They didn't.

In fact, it's quite the opposite. If you started singing in the middle of the hallways at my school, your ass would get drop kicked so fast into a trash can that you'd get whiplash from velocity. And then the nerds in the chemistry club would probably calculate that velocity against the rate at which your social status goes down the gutter, and when they got the answer, they'd laugh in your face.

It wasn't just the overly cheerful Highschool Musical. Pretty much any interpretation of a public schooling system was horribly wrong. Even recent ones that weren't made for children and preteens, like Euphoria. Like, seriously, Maddy. Put some clothes on. Nobody wants to see your cleavage during third period Algebra.

But the worst thing about these shows and movies was how they made horribly hard things look so simple.

Like breaking out into a group choreographed dance in the middle of the cafeteria.

Or, you know, starting and holding a normal, casual conversation with someone.

Which just so happened to be the thing I was struggling with right now.

Go figure, right?

It was early morning, before the bell had rung for the first class of the day, and I was standing in the center of the hallway, trying to summon enough courage in me to go thank Matthew for what he had done three days prior at the football game. It wouldn't have been hard to get to him, he was quite literally twenty feet away, but walking over there wasn't the difficult part. It was who was surrounding him that was the issue.

I had never spoken to them before, but I knew a lot about them regardless. Veronica Lawrence was there, of course, one of the head cheerleaders, identifiable by her long, wavy brown hair, currently tied back into two pigtails with wispy bangs framing her face. She was hanging off of Matthew's arms, a doey look in her eyes as she giggled at something he had said to her. The other two were as easily recognizable, the wrestling team captain, Vincent Colombo, and Rocko Romano, a linebacker. Both were gigantic, towering at well above six feet, with muscles and builds I'd kill to have. They were decently well looking, in a boy-next-door kind of way, but they couldn't hold a candle to Matthew, not with his handsome face and golden curls, and who could forget those well defined abs he had hidden under his shirt?

Wait.

What was I doing again?

About to go talk to Matthew. Right.

While I knew Matthew wouldn't ever hurt me, I couldn't say the same for his companions. Veronica would definitely stomp on me with her red bottoms if she had the chance, and Rocko and Vincent would probably chuck me inside a trash can for shits and giggles if I got remotely close to them, much less try to have a conversation with one of their buddies.

But Matthew wouldn't let them do that to me, right?

Who are you kidding? I scolded myself, frowning at the dirty hallway floor. It was scuffed and faded from years and years of use. Just because he was nice to you Friday doesn't mean you're friends now. He's known those three for years, he'll probably follow along with whatever they do.

I was originally going to wait until our literature class to approach him, but I found out, through a PA announcement, that the entire varsity team was going out to an early dinner to celebrate their last win, and the fact that the soccer team had made it to nationals. Which means the entire Varsity team was exempt from their last period.

I sighed, rocking back and forth on my heels, debating for what was probably the millionth time if I should just wait until tomorrow. I'd have Eloise, who was conveniently out 'sick' today, and I would be able to wait like I had planned to in the first place. Or, you know, I could just do it Wednesday when we'd meet up to work on our project.