Finding Paramore

Chapter Two: Tomorrow

Hayley

It's been two days since school started, and the only positive thing about it so far is that Jeremy, Josh, Zac, and I go to the same place. I haven't talked to Taylor all too much, not even about our project for English. I'm honestly not looking forward to doing it with him, part of the reason I wanted to do it with Josh is the project itself. Mrs. Johnson wants us to get to know each other with this project, by writing an essay about how we view life.

Personally, I feel like that is dangerous considering she has no idea what some people go through once they step through the front door of their so called home. It's suppose to help us reach deep down into our personal beliefs and point of views, but mine is dark sometimes, and I'm not sure I'd like to share it, Taylor being the first to know. Josh already knows a ton about me, and a lot that nobody else knows, so to have to work on this with a stranger...?

At lunch, after the second to last period, is a bit lonely. Freshmans and sophomores eat together, the same being with the other two grades, but it's a huge cafeteria and Josh and Zac are always sitting somewhere completely different every day. I'm sitting by myself, not exactly eating my food like I know I should be. A slice of pizza is not what I need after stressing over this English project. I sip on my water, though.

I'm wearing a beanie today that is red, and Taylor complemented it, and that shows he isn't completely evil, but I can't get over this. So much has happened in my past that I don't want to talk about. I don't view life the way I'd want to. I don't think I'll ever feel the same way about it. I'm not sure if it's part of growing up or just my pessimism, but I wish I did. Then I'd know exactly how alone I am.

Sure I've told Josh, Jeremy, and Zac a lot, but everyone has that one corner of their mind that no one else is allowed to see. This whole project thing is scary considering I'm giving Taylor the key to it. The more I think about it, the more I realize things I don't want to, actually. Then again, that could be the whole point of this essay. Mrs. Johnson could be trying to teach us a thing or two about the darkness that breaks into the minds of its innocent victims.

I chew on the end of the slice of pizza, but after a couple minutes, decide to go to the music room to goof around a little. I used to all the time last year, when I had nothing better to do. It takes a minute or so to reach the empty room, and so I shut the door behind me and grab one of the guitars in a case on one of the many shelves of instruments. I always use this one guitar, it plays well despite belonging to the school. The wood is dark, and the strings are nylon, my personal favorite for nothing serious like right now.

I sit in the dark classroom, empty chairs and music stands surrounding me, the only light is coming from the big window in the back. It is quite the help though. I sit with my legs in my lap, the guitar fitting perfectly. I strum random chords, singing random words. I find a pattern in the song I'm apparently writing without realizing it, and repeat it; adding, deleting, and substituting different chords and versions of them.

I find myself singing a song by Sunny Day Real Estate, a band I've known since I was little. My parents where together then, and I remember when I would go around singing random songs as a little girl, not just by Sunny Day Real Estate, and my parents would just laugh about it. That's all. Just laugh. The band brings back a lot a good memories, even though I didn't start my life growing up with music quite like theirs.

Even though I say I want to feel like I belong somewhere, I know in my heart music is always there and always will be there for me. It got me through my parents divorce, moving to Franklin, and anything and everything else. I adore music to no end, but I can't belong somewhere when it's so lonely. Honestly, despite music saving lives, I want to get through it with someone there to help as well. I need a lot of help sometimes, and only one treatment may not be enough.

I walk home everyday. I used to ride the bus, but in the sixth grade, there was a bullying incident. Some kid was harassing me, and calling me horrible names. Being maybe, 11 or 12, I didn't even know what some of them where at the time. I did know that they weren't calling me pretty, though. Another kid, his name is John, beat him up for me. I didn't know him at all, but I saw him around sometimes and he always smiled at me. After that, I never rode the bus again. I was way too scared that something like that would happen again. I don't know why, but I freak out over people protecting me. Even caring about me.

It's still summer, so walking isn't so bad. It's winter that kills. My house isn't too far, maybe a mile, more or less. I start out the school, and down the long sidewalk. As the high school slowly disappears out of my sight, a certain student catches up to me with a smile. "Hey Santa's Little Helper," Taylor says greeting me.

"Is that my new nickname?" I ask him with a small smile as we walk next to each other down the never ending sidewalk. He nods yes with a goofy smile, and I look down and back up quickly. Every time I see Taylor I end up thinking about this damn essay of ours.

"Do you want to work on the essay thing soon? I know it's early but I'm trying to steer away from the procrastination this time around!" he asks me kindly. I knew he was going to ask soon, I just didn't think it would be now. "Is tomorrow okay?"

"Um...yeah, tomorrow's okay," I respond trying to sound normal when on the inside I'm having two different heart attacks at once.

"Do you want to meet somewhere? My house is always...loud and I'm not sure it's the best place," Taylor asks me softly. I can tell in his eyes he's hoping that I won't question his home, so I won't, knowing something could easily be wrong but temporarily avoiding it.

"My house works. Since you walk too, we can walk together," I suggest with another small smile. "So, why don't you ride the bus?"

"I like having time to clear my head without having pencils thrown at my head, you know? It's relaxing after a long day," The curly haired boy tells me looking a little awkward. "What about you?"

When he asks this, I don't know why, but I feel uncomfortable with the topic, and my heart skips a beat in fear. It isn't like something completely dramatic happened, it's just that...I don't know. I'm working on finding that out. "It's a long story," I say, hoping he'll understand to drop it.

"Oh," Taylor responds. "Well, I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Yeah," I answer kindly, still unsure of him. "Tomorrow,"