KISMET「JOSHLER」

One

"IN THE VERY DEPTHS OF HELL DO DEMONS NOT LOVE ONE ANOTHER?"

I sat in the far back of the classroom, staring out of the window at the rain dripping off of someone near the lot. They seemed to be in a hurry, and being that it was the first week of school, I would have been in a hurry, too, were it not for my mother waking me up this morning. My head ached with the lack of sleep I was accustomed to, and as I watched the nobody slip on wet grass outside, I couldn't help but smile. But to someone else, that nobody with a letterman jacket was everybody. That person was the stars, red lips, dark eyes, soft hair, alive and breathing and beautiful in every way. Perhaps not to me. But to someone. As I tore my gaze away from the somebody-to-someone-else, my mind wandered to the embarrassingly long conversation with a wrong number last night. The teacher spoke about chromosomes but all I could think about was how oddly understanding they were. I slipped my phone out and scrolled to the most confusing message they sent.

UNKNOWN: [3:45am] people are not as happy as they seem.

The door to the classroom opened and in walked a soaked athlete who ended up being somebody afterall. His hair was flat against his head as he apologized to the professor and took his seat in the middle, where the popular belonged. Multiple foreign languages of cool boys going through puberty were exchanged before the teacher continued. That was happiness. With their thumbs in their mouths from birth, breastfed everything. Told where to go, what to do, how to do it. I wish my life was similar to that. Maybe I'd know whether or not to listen to the wrong number or the voices in my head. I watched the boy shake water out of his hair, wetting females around him. The girls all squealed in annoyance and he smiled, meeting my eyes. I quickly looked away, thinking if I looked back up we'd fall in love or something cliche but he was on his phone. My own buzzed in my hands and I thanked God it hadn't been on the table to gather the attention of my peers. That would be humiliating. I opened the message from the mysterious person, not able to help the small grin on my lips.

UNKNOWN: [9:57am] Are you alright? I can skip school and we can just talk.

YOU: [9:59am] I'm quite boring.

UNKNOWN: [10:00am] I like talking to you.

YOU: [10:01am] I'm also depressing.

UNKNOWN: [10:04am] we're human. We're all depressing.

YOU: [10:06am] what's your name?

UNKNOWN: [10:07am] Tyler. Yours? (What are your pronouns, too, I don't want to be rude)

YOU: [10:10am] I'm Josh, and he/him; you?

UNKNOWN: [10:11am] same as yours. How are you feeling, lovely?

YOU: [10:12am] shut up, I'm not lovely. You don't know anything about me. I'm fine, okay? It was just a slip up of a number, I meant to text my cousin.