✺ 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 ✺- Josh Kiszka

Part 1

I slept with my head down over my arms as my bracelets pressed rigidly against my cheeks. I knew there would be marks on my face when I finally pulled my head up from my desk, but at this moment, I was not moving. 

Violet, my cousin and pretty much best friend since we were three, snuck into my window at ten p.m. the night before and stayed until almost four in the morning. The night had been incredibly amusing, smoking until we had to shove our heads into blankets to prevent laughing too hard and being caught and listening to our grandparents' old vinyl at the lowest volume our turntable could handle. Those nights are my favorite, but the next morning when we have to be at school on time with only two hours of sleep is hell.

As the class drones on, I can barely hear the teacher explaining the Victorian age of Europe to a couple dozen bored and probably high seniors who just can't wait to leave this place. God, I hate history class. While I am on the verge of falling asleep and relieving my aching tiredness, I hear the muttering of the teacher suddenly cut off by the swinging open of the classroom door, which violently strikes the poorly painted cinder block, eliciting an unholy bang that makes my head shoot up and makes my body go into a panic. I looked over at the door, pissed that I was woken up after trying so hard to sleep for twenty minutes.

Josh Kiszka. Of fucking course, I think to myself. The boy's awkward but somehow confident walk has me pinching my eyebrows in anger as he walks into the classroom. The boy is late four out of the five days he attends school, and no teacher ever gives him shit for it. Not even a warning. Just let him run his mouth with a new daily excuse, then tell him to sit down and just get started on the notes. Today is no different.

He strides down the row of desks, sits in the chair diagonal to mine, and starts pulling out his work. I begin to put my head back down into my arms, too tired to glare anymore.

Not five minutes pass when I feel a quick but light tap on my shoulder. I look up, startled, to see Josh standing over me and my desk. I give him a puzzled look, and he quickly explains his reason for the disturbance.

"Hey, sorry to bug you, could I see your notes from last Wednesday?"

I close my eyes slowly and sigh, nodding in response as I dig through my bag and pull out our past assignments, handing him the pages he requested.

"Thanks a ton; I'll give these back to you after class," he affirmed, beaming his large smile at me. I only nodded again in response.

I quickly put my head back down and tried to get as much sleep as possible before the class ended or before Josh's next interruption. My next class was much more strict, and I wouldn't be able to close my eyes for too long, much less lay my head down.

History eventually ended, and I begrudgingly stood up from my seat, slung my bag over my shoulder, and left the class, much after everyone else had already exited.

I walked down the crowded halls and into my next class at the end of the upstairs D hall, AP Psychology. The most rigorous and god-awful class you could take as an already stressed-out senior. I don't hate the class; I actually like it, but the extensive work and constant projects build-up, and there are absolutely no breaks during the ninety minutes that we're in class.

Second period seemed to drag on forever. Probably because the entire time, I was struggling to keep my eyes open and resisting the urge to let my head fall onto the table and just pass out. I somehow finished our paper that was due at the end of class and turned it in during the last second.

The bell finally rang, and I put my stuff back in my bag and left class. I walked down the hall and toward the stairs to head up to my art class. At the top of the stairs, I felt someone grab the strap of my bag and pull me around. When I turned around, I saw violet standing at the top of the stair landing. She looked pretty frantic and wide-eyed.

"Are you good? You look like you just did a line," I teased.

"Shut up and come to the bathroom with me." She retorted.

We walked quickly to the nearest bathroom in the back hall and stepped into the large end stall.

"What happened?" I asked. Her face lit up, and she grinned wide.

"Remember that kid I was telling you about from my Chem class? The one with the cool style and hot ass hair."

"Yeah, Sam?"

"Yeah, dude, he asked me to go to the Philharmonic Orchestra playing in Detroit this Saturday!"

"OH MY GOD" I shouted

"I KNOW. I'm so excited."

"We can pick you out an outfit tonight!"

"YES! I can't wait. Look at the text he sent me." she opened her phone and pulled up his messages. The last one he sent read:

I can't wait to see you Saturday :) Tickets are already bought, and dinner is on me. See you tomorrow V.

"Oh my God, he's precious," I whispered as I scrolled through their texts. While reading, I couldn't help but notice the contact photo she had set for him. It was some dorky picture of him from most likely middle school with his hair all pushed to one side. He looked like he belonged in One-Direction.

"Holy shit, his photo." I laughed as I clicked on his contact to get a better look. That's when I saw the contact name she had put in for him. His Full name.

Sammy Kiszka :)

You have got to be joking.