It’s raining when my alarm goes off in the morning. My head feels groggy, like it’s full of fog. When I look out my window I can hardly see the neighbor’s house. I lie back down in bed for a second while I muster the strength to get up. “¡Peyton, mijo! ¡Despierta!” I hear my mom call from the kitchen, I groan and shout back “Coming!”
I start the car while I wait for Casey to come outside. She’s at that point in her life where she cares a lot about how she’s dressed for school. I remember when people used to be like that. Eventually, we all see each other. Who cares if you’re wearing makeup, if that means you can get an extra ten minutes of sleep before six tests in one day?
Casey complains about my music the whole way to her bus stop. “Peyton, abuelito has better music than you do!” I shrug. “It’s not my fault no one has taste anymore.”
“Even James complains about your music!” I feel my face heat up, “He does not!”
“He does too! Remember when you dropped me off at piano that one time? He totally agreed with me.” I sigh as we pull up to her stop. She opens the door and pulls her jacket over her head before grabbing her backpack out of the car. “Are you sure you don’t want, like, an umbrella or something, Case?” I ask. She gets out of the car and pulls the hood of her “highly fashionable” navy blue raincoat over her head. “I’m good. I don’t want to carry it around all day.”
“I guess that’s fair.” She turns around and shouts “Adios, loser.”
“Adios puta. Que tengas un día horrible.”
“¡Vete a la mierda!”; It’s a typical Latino exchange of goodbyes. She runs from the car to the bus and disappears into a crowd of laughing girls. Collective Soul comes on the radio, so as soon as I pull out I’m turning up the volume and tapping the beat on the steering wheel. Casey always makes me turn the volume down because “my music is super lame.” I mean comparing it to abuelito’s opera music? That’s tough.
I’m feeling rather moody at the moment, and the rain isn’t helping. I read some study once that said rain should boost your mood because of the negative ionization of the water or something, but science is Emily’s field and I’m calling it bullshit. On one hand, I guess I am happy because James is coming over today. It’ll be nice to hang out with just him while Emily and Marina have their orch-dork girl party or whatever, but on the other hand, I will inevitably have to sit through James asking Emily to prom.
The day goes on so slowly, I could have sworn it was moving backwards. It’s an endless cycle of staring at the clock every ten seconds hoping another minute has passed by, and every time being terribly disappointed. When lunch finally rolls around, I preoccupy myself with my English paper, which is currently about two pages long. “Dude, how did you manage to type two pages already? This paper isn’t due for another week,” Emily asks while lingering over my shoulder. “I have another paper due at the end of the month, so I just want to get it out of the way. Besides, we didn’t do anything in physics.”
“You didn’t do anything, or you weren’t paying attention?” She asks. “You know me so well.” She tucks a strand of her curly brown hair behind an ear before sitting down next to me. Marina sits down across from me and pulls out a sandwich. “What’s up, y’all?”
“Nothing much,” Emily says, “I’m just eating my lunch while Peyton writes a paper that isn’t due for another week.” I try to defend myself, “Oh, give me a break, Emily! You’re hardly one to talk, Miss 4.5 GPA.”
“Aw, he’s so cute,” Marina coos. “Simply adorable,” Emily says as she pats me on the back. Emily starts to organize a set of notes for Chemistry when Alina sits down, jumping frantically, “CHARLIE ASKED ME TO PROM GUYS!” she squeals and makes some frantic shimmying movement with her hands. “Good for you, Alina,” I say bitterly, without looking up from the screen. “Thank you for your enthusiastic reply, Peyton.”
“Sorry, I’m just tryna crank out this paper.”
“Even though it isn’t due for a week,” Marina adds.
“Stop attacking me!” Marina chuckles and Emily says, “Dude are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just stressed about this paper.” Obviously, this paper is the only thing on my mind.
“Okay, okay. We’ll leave you alone.” Marina drops my sandwich on top of my laptop, “You should also probably eat sometime between now and the time you finish this paper.”
“Oh yeah. I should probably do that.” I say, the words going in one ear and out the other. “Are you sure you’re okay, dude?” Marina asks. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just a little stressed. She nods her head up and down, accepting it as an answer, though ‘little’ is an understatement. “By the way,” Emily asks, ”Has anyone seen James?”
“No clue,” Marina says. I shrug with half the sandwich in my mouth, trying to ignore the giant well of anguish that just went down with my sandwich. Emily fixes her glasses before opening up a bag of goldfish crackers. My heart’s racing as I try to focus on my essay, but as people crowd around the table, the noise in my head rages and I can’t focus.
“Oh hey! There’s James!” Alina says. She waves to him, but I don’t turn around. Suddenly, the only thing I feel like doing is throwing up, but for my laptop’s sake, I’m doing my best to hold it in. Everyone else has turned towards James, who’s holding the flowers he bought at the store yesterday, so no one notices that I’ve lost all the color in my face. I turn around, and we immediately lock eyes. He looks more nervous than I’ve ever seen him. I give him a thumbs up, and he inhales. He’s just standing there as other people turn to look. Most of them turn around again once they’ve processed what’s happening, but a few underclassmen continue to stare. He breathes again and then walks towards Emily who, in absolute shock, has covered her mouth with her hand. “Emily,” James says, holding the bouquet out, “Will you go to prom with me?” She jumps up and down, and her thick black curls jump with her in every direction. “Ahh! Yes yes, of course, I will!” She hugs James, as he puts an arm awkwardly to her back. She sits back down next to me, and James takes the seat across from her, smiling to himself. I steal one of Emily’s goldfish and eat it because that’s the most vengeful I can be towards two of my best friends. This is it, at least; the bandage is ripped off. “What’s that smile for, silly?” Marina asks James, “I did it,” he says, “I didn’t think I could.” My heart throbs when he says it, I feel the quiver to his voice in the very bottom of my chest. I want to kiss him, I think. Ugh. There’s nothing left to do but get over it I guess, though some part of me feels like it’s impossible. I put on a smile and pat him on the back. His shoulders are tense, but he seems content. I decide that no matter what happens, I’ll just be happy for him. It’s the best way to say “I love you,” without actually saying it.
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