What is his problem? I ask myself over and over as I pretend to pay attention. I still have three classes left, yet I barely remember getting to this one. I can't focus, though it's not like I actually need the lessons. I already know all of this information after all the time I had spent during the summer reading in the town's tiny public library. The only books they had were ones that I had read before, and textbooks.

The textbooks certainly were not my first choice, but when you need to look like you belong at the library, anything will do, might as well use the time wisely. So no, I do not need these classes, but this stuck-up snobby school won't let some Asian new kid with an address located in the slums test out of any of their classes.

At least this means I don't have to worry about paying attention. Classes give me time to think, which is nice when I have a lot on my mind and no other time to sort through any of it. And, oh dear, do I have stuff pestering me right now... or rather, people. Well, one person in particular: the blonde, whose name apparently, is Ash. He had been glaring at me again, like I had wronged him or something. Like, seriously! What is his problem? What the hell did I do to get on his bad side? I've hardly ever even spoken to him and it's not like I've hurt any of his friends, unless I sassed someone he knows. But that's still no reason for how intense his glare is!

In the meantime, it's Thursday. That means that I once again get to clean the bathrooms in Copernicus Hall, where all the Laboratory classrooms are. I just hope that my peers can keep their lunches down today. What was so bad about the labs that you throw up? The school had to have access to good equipment and decent professors. So much easier than dissecting a frog with a rusty, bent scalpel that wouldn't be useful as a letter opener, let alone flesh. Maybe it was simply all the snotty kids, the ones who had never before had to make their own lunch or clean up after others, that couldn't keep it down.

I went through my job, luckily not seeing another soul while cleaning the 4 bathrooms on each of the 4 floors of the building. Not a single sick person in sight. Instead of dealing with a vomiting student, I got to turn up my music loud enough that I couldn’t hear my own thoughts. I focused on the music, the one thing in my life that I could always count on.

I listened to one of the playlists I had made, which was a compilation of the songs we would be playing in both the college and community band. This was important music, rather than something to simply distract. Makes a better excuse when people ask why I'm breaking the only rule of janitorial: no devices, especially ones being used for music.

My phone buzzed slightly as I clocked out. Looking down, I found that it was Clyde. The gist of the paragraph of explanation was: He wouldn’t be coming back to the dorm tonight. I would have a room to myself for an entire evening. I smiled probably for the first time in years, the music having done its job and relaxed me incredibly. It was something worth smiling about, something almost as wonderful as that last date with him, that date right before I had left forever, never to see him again except for in my memories.

I reminded myself of the present, of where I was and the fact that anyone could walk by. I pulled myself out of my thoughts, my marvelous memories. Memories of the home-made dinner he made, the candles he set out, the petals on the bed... No! I will not think of it. Nope. I can't. That would be far too painful.

In the meantime, though, I would finally have some space for myself. If only tomorrow weren't Friday. Or maybe tomorrow could just never come. Tomorrow, I would have to go back home, back to that place that I shared with my parents and their friends, to that place where I didn't have any personal space.

For now, though, I can forget about tomorrow and him and everything and everyone. For now, I will enjoy my uneventful evening of complete peace and utter loneliness.