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Lizzy | JJ
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Lizzy woke with excitement, a dream of JJ dawdling in the back of her mind. Thinking about him positioned a smile on her face just like how the moon was hung by a pair of invisible, powerful hands. It occurred in a meadow of wheat, a large blanket bending some of the golden grasses to the ground, creating a little cove, a small haven just for the two of them. A scrumptious picnic was spread out on the blanket; Lizzy and JJ lounged together nonchalantly and stress-free, her head resting on his shoulder and her lethargic gaze scrutinizing the cloudless sky. Instead of staring at the sky, he was looking at her, his eyes full of admiration and something else that she couldn't decipher.
She shook her head like a wet dog after a run through rain, removing herself from that pleasant dream with reluctance. Lizzy stood, grunting as she stretched, some of her muscles still sore from the party even though the pain was mostly assuaged. Something about the way her room glowed from the morning sun or the way a robin greeted her with lilting tune by her window made Lizzy believe that the day was going to be a superb one. Nothing ominous frightened her and everything was all as it should be.
The auspicious day continued breezily with her attention occupied by classes that were actually fascinating for once, a feasible amount of homework, and a general excellent mood floating through the student body like a sweet perfume. At lunchtime, Mateo had rejoined their old lunch table along with Teagan, and Lizzy could sense only the slightest bit of tension. Luckily, the friction was easily oiled by a few witty statements from Mateo, reminding his two friends that he remained the same companion that they'd loved and spent their valuable time with for years. The three musketeers had reunited once more and Lizzy was overjoyed. It was like Christmastime, every event she opened with her presence bringing about great gladness.
Of course, like any other day, this one too eddied into the toilet (although as Lizzy reflected, she guessed that it could have gone much, much worse). Lizzy had utterly forgotten about her appointment with her guidance counselor to discuss her future plans—colleges, careers, financial situation, and the like. She would much rather spend her free time sleeping, texting JJ, or toiling in her garden than plotting her future. Lizzy was as spontaneous as the weather when it came to that sort of thing, flowing wherever the wind decided to take her.
Right about now, the figurative wind was leading her to the guidance counselor's office.
Lizzy loitered just outside of his door, desiring with all her heart to turn around and flee to the outdoors where the sunshine would welcome her into its loving embrace. Her eyes skimmed over the pamphlets and booklets about colleges, financial aid, the SAT/ACT, and career options. Other miscellaneous papers were tacked on a board alongside the school-oriented ones for curious students' benefit—a thorough book identifying sex offenders in the area, sheets listing of missing teenagers with the top one revealing a girl who lived in the middle of the United States and had only disappeared a few months ago, and some economics fact sheet recording the stocks for the year and the predictions for the next couple of months.
As Lizzy stared at these random assortments of paper, which she couldn't help but feel were a complete waste, her guidance counselor almost ran into her when he exited his office to search for her. "Ah, there you are, Elizabeth. Come in, come in!" He gestured for her to enter, his arm holding the door open for her as she slipped inside reluctantly.
"Mr. Morris, you can call me Lizzy, remember?" Lizzy reminded him, quickly surveying the familiar room with his degree plaques nailed on the far wall, paperweights and pencils on his desk, and a large, wooden bookcase conquering an entire wall by itself.
"Ah, yes, I'm sorry, Lizzy," Mr. Morris apologized, tripping over the edge of his desk as he tried to scurry behind it. "I am a mess today," he expressed, dabbing his shimmering forehead with his hand before collecting stray, haphazard papers into more organized piles. Aren't you always a mess? Lizzy soliloquized but didn't voice aloud. Dumping her backpack onto the floor, Lizzy perched herself on the edge of the chair in front of Mr. Morris's desk, eager to abscond from the room as fast as possible.
"Alright, let's get started then," Mr. Morris said, searching frenetically about the room for his notes on Lizzy's future plans and topics they had previously discussed.
"Mr. Morris, don't tell me you lost them again," Lizzy grumbled, referring to her file that he had seemingly misplaced. She watched him rifle through the papers he had already arranged when she first entered the room, his damp forehead displaying a sickly shine.
"No, no, I distinctly remember..." A single finger rapped the edge of his chin where a field of gray whiskers were flourishing. Lizzy pursed her lips, raising her eyebrows at her guidance counselor expectantly.
He snapped his fingers suddenly, a lightbulb surfacing in his head. "Aha! I remember now! I set it right—" He shifted through a series of nauseatingly large encyclopedias. "—here!" He then stumbled upon Lizzy's file in triumph, carrying it high above his head victoriously. "Now we can officially begin."
Mr. Morris reclined in his chair, his eyes skimming over her file rapidly. Lizzy wasn't sure why he was trying to disguise his extreme unpreparedness; it was obvious that he had not perused her sheet in ages, possibly since the last time he requested to see her at the beginning of the new year. She thudded her fingers against the armrest impatiently, wondering if—when—it would be proper and not considered rude to up and leave.
"So you said that you'd research some possible college options and you had an interest in majoring in botany. What kind of colleges did you look at?" Mr. Morris asked, selecting a pen and preparing to add more to Lizzy's very limited and short list of information about her future.
Lizzy's eyes seemed to bug out of her head, frantically endeavoring to think of something to say, to improvise because she had, in fact, neglected to do the research even though she had tried to force herself to. "Well—um, I—" she stuttered, reaching into the deepest depths of her mind and surfacing with nothing in her palms. Her face reddened immensely, wiping her clammy hands on her jeans.
Mr. Morris's panicky gaze like raging waters had calmed, his composure recollected. "I can see that you haven't done any of your research." He paused, spinning in his chair to stare at his bookcase deep in thought. Minutes ticked by and Lizzy pondered if she should just leave. This meeting wasn't worth it; Lizzy wasn't ready at all for any sort of life-changing decisions and commitment. Unfortunately, before she could sweep her backpack off the floor and flee, Mr. Morris spoke again: "Lizzy, I want to know where your head is at. Do you want to go to college? You're certainly smart enough. You excel in all of your classes and you are passionate about gardening and doing well in everything you set your mind to. What is hindering you?"
Lizzy wasn't sure how to respond to such accusations. She had been exposed, her lack of effort bare and out in the open like girls in bikinis on warm summer days. She wanted to hide in her gray sweatshirt, Mr. Morris's penetrating stare burning two holes in her forehead. Guilt washed over her and she was irritated at herself for not caring as much as she should about what's going to happen next in her life. "I'm sorry, Mr. Morris. I don't really know what exactly is wrong with me. I guess it's because I'm scared of the future—or I'm scared of change. Either way, nothing about college is exciting me in the way that it does everybody else."
Mr. Morris nodded like the situation was exactly as he predicted. "We'll take it easy then. We'll slow dip our toes into this whole process like we're tiptoeing down the steps at a swimming pool. I'll give you a list of questions that I want you to fill out about what you'd prefer in a university. Does that sound like a plan? Then, we'll meet up and find places that correspond with your preferences."
Lizzy reached for her backpack, understanding this assignment as the final episode in their meeting. Before she sprinted out of the suffocating guidance counselor's office, Mr. Morris handed her the piece of paper concerning her college wish list. Lizzy had to resist the urge to pitch it into the trashcan situated just outside the door; however, this time, she clung on to it. After all, this might be her last opportunity to get her act together, her last chance to sculpt the next chapter in her life. And so, she adhered to it, her last ray of hope.
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Lizzy was exhausted by the time she finally arrived at her home, belly flopping onto her bed face first and sighing in utter defeat. What had started off as a promising day had tumbled into despair. Her meeting with Mr. Morris had added an element of stress and anguish to the remainder of her classes, and she had barely focused because of the millions of anxious thoughts that swirled in her mind like a hurricane—and they were just as destructive too.
Lizzy rested on her bed in that plank-like position for a long while, her entire will to survive abandoning her as she breathed in a face full of cotton from her fabric sheets. The sheet of paper that she was graciously given by Mr. Morris fluttered beside her until it joined her, flat and empty, begging for her to scrawl something on its blanks. Lizzy performed a staring contest with it for a few minutes, lacking the strength and effort required for sitting up and completing her homework.
A grand distraction revealed itself like a star actress in a spotlight, her phone buzzing with a text incoming from JJ. Eagerly, Lizzy propped herself up by her elbows and read what he had to say.
Have you thought about my flower question? Do you have a satisfactory answer for me today?
Lmao, your English/grammar is on fleek today, JJ.
School sometimes has that effect on me. Unfortunately.
Anyway, yes I did think about your question. And I have an answer.
I'm ready.
Roses are my favorite flowers.
Ahhhhh, the romance flower, I see you Liz.
You're so obnoxious and weird and strange sometimes. Why do I even put up with you?
Take a chill pill, Lizzy. I didn't mean to offend you and make you go all ninja defense mode on me. Aren't roses romantic flowers?
Yeah, I guess. But it's more than just that. Roses are intertwined in history like in the Shakespeare quote "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet." Their red petals more familiar to people than probably any other flower ever. Not to mention, they're absolutely gorgeous and delicate and yet they have secret thorns on their stems and that just intrigues me.
So, kinda like you. You're gorgeous and sweet and (maybe but probably not idk) delicate and yet you have thorns because, damn, sometimes Lizzy your texts wound me.
I'm going to take that entire thing as a compliment. So thank you :)
It was meant to be. Along with a tinge of humor because I'm very funny.
Oh, super funny. You're so hilarious, I'm dying on the floor laughing.
Why do you always resort to sarcasm when I'm trying to boost my already low self-esteem?
It's easier that way, I guess. Somebody has to keep you in line.
My parents do a good enough job, thank you.
Lizzy, can I ask you a question?
Go for it.
Do you wanna, I don't know, Facetime tonight after my basketball practice (Regionals is on Wednesday! And I didn't forget your promise to tell me where you live after I win) and I get some of my homework done? I really want to hear what your voice sounds like. And Facetiming you is the next best thing to actually seeing you face-to-face.
Okay. How about at 7:30-ish after I've eaten dinner and all and done some homework and whatever?
I can't wait :)
Butterflies, gnats, mosquitoes, dragonflies, among other insects trembled in Lizzy's stomach, fluttering even to the very ends of her fingers and toes. All of her nerves were boiling like magma and Lizzy hadn't decided whether it was a pleasant feeling or not. Her mind automatically commenced its wandering through the desert in her head, every so often a cactus of an idea of what would happen during her Facetime with JJ embellishing the otherwise bland landscape. Her excitement soared, a rocket to the heavens, and it would soon land on the moon where she hoped her expectations would be satisfied on that foreign surface.
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A/N:
Hi everyone! How are you doing? I hope you're doing well!
And I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. As always, if you did, please vote or comment on it! I love hearing your thoughts (and they motivate me to write more!). Also, thank you for 2k+ reads and 250+ votes! And this story is ranked #959 in Short Story!
I can't believe there's just over two months left of school. Every year seems like it goes by faster and faster. I think I'm getting old.
I'm super excited about the ranking that I posted this chapter a day early. I hope you don't mind! In addition, I still have many, many chapters in stock and I'm still writing so this book is far from over! I hope you're as excited about it as I am!
- Payton