MY MIND IS everywhere, all at once. I've been researching all day; papers litter my desk like an intricate design; like a famous art piece.
My hair is up in a messy bun, blonde strands still finding its way out of it. Wrapping my hand on the coffee mug sitting on the only clear spot on the scattered table, I take a huge swig of the iced coffee inside it, before sighing in content and satisfaction.
Dropping it back down, I continue typing away on my laptop, not stopping until I feel like I have the perfect material left to present.
I've been on this for hours with no prevail. I've printed out my presentation countless of times, only for me to throw it away in the trash can. Pushing back my chair, I stare at the now overflowing bin, filled with nothing but crumbled up pieces of paper.
Letting out a huff, I dip my head down into my hands—that were set firmly on my lap—and run it down my face. Regaining back my posture, I bring myself back to my desk and start rewriting my debate.
I so happened to be one of the four people chosen to represent our beloved Brickwood High, in the interschool debate, not too long ago. It did make perfect sense why I was one of the chosen ones. After all, I am the captain of Brickwood High debate team.
But as the days draw near, the gnawing sensation of failing, is always set at the back of mind. It's always there and makes me feel guilty any time I don't dedicate myself to it. And it's only made worse by the history of the two schools' rivalry.
If we come back home losers, we're ridiculed; each and every single one of us. No matter the status, no matter the fame. No one will let us forget that wretched day.
But if we come back home winners, we're praised. They'll pat us on the back and sing praises to our names, regardless of if your liked or not. Anything to rub it in Hamilton High's face, that we, students of Brickwood High, are better than them.
So, I've been proof reading, studying, memorizing, day in day out, not a word will be left on that paper that will not be already engraved in my mind.
Nevertheless, I've somehow gotten it into my head that my work isn't good enough. That I need to do better; I need to work harder. That if everything else fails, let me be the saving grace.
Because, at the end of the day, it'll all be my fault, if we lose. And that thought alone petrifies me; I hate losing. Especially to that god awful school. Hence the reason why, for the past week, I've been spending all my time redoing my work.
I've already notified Miss. Amelia about the changes I'm making to my argument, and she agreed to it only on the condition that I show her the fully rewritten script a week before the competition.
There's two weeks left before the event. I'm fucking panicking.
Removing my hands from the keyboard, I rest my elbows on the table before taking both my hands and rubbing it on the side of my temples.
I can't be doing this now. I have other things to do.
I do have other things to do, midterms are around the corner, and I've not even studied for one topic, talk less of seven.
Getting up from my desk, I go over to where my bag lays on a rack and pick it up from there, before taking it to my seat.
Sitting down, I zip open my bag, but instead of bringing out a book to study, I drop my bag on the floor and turn to my computer to continue my debate.
I can't bring myself to do anything else other than this debate. I have to give my full attention to it, or else it'll be horrible.
Vi says that I'm a perfectionist, that I can't just leave anything as it is without going through it a million times. She was the one who told me to go to the movies yesterday, she told me that I should go there and come back home when my mind was cleared, in her own words, she said: "Go do something other than reading a book; it'll be good for you."
And so, I went, and wasted two hours of my life there. I didn't know Knox, Dean and Axel were going to be there. I didn't know that there was going to be a fight. And I definitely did not know that I'll be the cause of it.
Chugging down the last of my coffee, I send my presentation to my printer so that it can be printed out. Holding it in my hands, I read it over and over again, before I finally knew, that this, was my final transcript.
"Finally!" I let out a sigh of relief. The hard part is finally over, and I'm extremely relieved about it.
Going back to my chair, I save the file of my debate on my laptop, before sending it as an email attachment to Miss. Amelia.
Leaning back in my chair, I take a piece of loose hair of my face and twirl it around my finger.
He thought my bows suited me. He stared at me. Why was he staring at me? What's there to look at? Apparently, something.
I could feel my face slowly breaking into a small smile, as my thoughts start surrounding Dean.
But I can't think of him right now. He's not my main priority, my work is. And until then, I have to stay focused.
Sitting up straight, I look around my room and I notice how messy and unfit it is to study properly in. It's just going to irk me until I clean it up, and the thought of that, makes me feel so tired.
Getting up from my chair, I pick up my bag and stuff everything I need to go out to a cafe inside of it, before walking towards my closet and looking for something other than a baggy shirt to wear.
Summer is drawing near, and with summer, comes a hot, blazing, sun. And unfortunately for me, I live in New York, where it tends to get a bit warm in the summertime.
Rummaging through the hangers, I settle on a navy-blue sports t-shirt with white stripes lining the shoulders and hem of the shirt and a blue denim short with a raw hem.
Walking towards my desk chair, I sit down on it so that I can put on my white socks along with my black adidas shoes.
Still at my desk, I put my black headphones on top of my head and start adjusting it, so that it can perfectly cover up my ears.
Grabbing everything I need to go to the cafe; I walk down the stairs and into the kitchen so that I can put the coffee mug inside the dishwasher.
I'm the only one left at home because Natalia said she had something to do somewhere and that she'd be back soon, but before she left, dad had already gone out to meet up with an old friend while my mother went to buy groceries for the house. Leaving me the last one at home.
Closing the door, I twisted the key twice to the right in order to lock it, before I put the key in my bag and walk down the steps and into the street.
It wasn't long before I reached my destination, it was a relatively known cafe at the heart of New York, where many people went to do their work or grab a bite to eat.
Entering the cafe, the immediate smell of fresh baked muffins and cookies take over my sense of smell, the sound of loud jazz music plays from the overhead speakers, but it's being drowned out by the chatter of the customers that have come to dine at, Macy's Cafe and Bakery.
A slight rumble comes from my stomach, making itself known that I've starved it for way too long. Walking into the establishment, I look around the place before settling down at an empty table next to the window.
Dropping my bag down on the table, I walk towards the long line of people waiting to place their orders, before going back to their seats or leaving the cafe.
After a few minutes of waiting, it finally reached my turn, and I was now face to face with a male barista, that looked to be my age.
"Good afternoon," he smiled, showcasing his dimples, "what would you like?"
"Good afternoon," I smiled back, "I would like a blueberry muffin and a double shot espresso."
"Name, please."
"Juliette."
"Juliette, that's a pretty name."
"Thank you," I looked at his name tag that was pinned on his white button up shirt, "Christian."
He looked at me smiling before, going back to writing down my order, "Okay, Juliette, would you like to wait and receive your food, or should someone bring it to your table?"
"Someone bring it to my table," I replied, squeezing myself a little because of how cold it is in here.
"Sorry about that."
"Hmm?"
"The air conditioner, your cold? My boss said we should amp it up because of the heat."
"Oh, no, it's fine. It's fine—thank you."
"No, problem. Anyways, Juliette, your order will be with you shortly," he smiled at me for the final time, before calling the next person to come forward and me walking away.
He's cute.
Yeah, he is, I guess.
Settling down on my table, I start bringing out everything that was in my bag: books, notes, laptop, pencil case, and sticky notes. Before setting it all down on the table and arranging it in a way that'll be easily accessible.
Picking up my phone, I played my study playlist on Spotify and connected it via Bluetooth to my headphones, so that I can listen to it without disturbing anyone else.
The sound of the music playing, makes me feel focused and alert. I'm in my zone, I'm serene, I can do this.
I start flipping through the pages of my books, writing down the important things or things that I'll need to jot down for later.
Not too long later, the sound of ringing blaring through my headphones, brings me back to reality. Checking the caller ID, I see the name 'Dean,' up front and center and I go to pick it up.
"Hi, Angel. How are you?" Dean's deep voice screams in my ear, above all the noise coming from his background, "Sorry about the noise, I'm babysitting my little sister. And she's one hell of a troublemaker."
"Hello. I'm fine," I said while picking up my phone to reduce the speaker's volume, "it's okay, little kids are notorious for causing trouble."
"Yeah, but that's not what I called you for. I was wondering—if you're not busy—if you can come over to my house, today."
"Why?" my heart starts picking up pace, my hand subconsciously taps itself on the table.
"Because of the test."
Oh.
"Oh," I say aloud, "It's this week?" I question, rummaging through the papers that now litter the once arranged table.
"Yes, it is," Dean says immediately when I found the book, I wrote down the date of his test, "It's on Wednesday. Have you studied?" I ask hastily.
"Not since Friday," I could hear the nervousness in his voice, he knows he should've studied instead of going to the movies, yet he still went and then that happened.
"Okay, uh, I'm currently at a cafe right now, it's called Macy's Cafe and Bakery, if you can, can you come here instead?"
Dean stays silent for a while before speaking, "I'll have to ask my sister if she'll be willing to go to a cafe."
"Okay, I'll wait."
"Great, I won't be long," from the background of his side of the call, I could hear his footsteps walking around everywhere before finally stopping and then asking a little girl, which I presume to be his sister, if she wants to go out. Her shrill screams almost burst my eardrums as I can hear her jumping up and down everywhere.
Before he could continue talking to me, he laughs a laugh that only one can place as genuine. Making me wish I was there to witness it up close.
Getting back on the call he speaks, "She said yes, Macy's Cafe and Bakery, is it?"
"It is," I answered.
"Great, I'll see you soon. Bye, Julie."
"Bye, Dean," I replied, before he finally cut the call.
How many sisters does this guy have?
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hello, loves! hope all of you are having an amazing morning,
afternoon, evening or night.
this took me way longer than it needed to complete.
anyways, happy halloween! (for those who celebrate)
remember, vote and comment
ilysm, gn! 🤍