I stared out the window long and hard just to put together the stars that were so far from one another. After a couple months into freshmen year, turning my head and squinting my eyes from the back of math class, I found out I needed glasses more than Emma needed a boyfriend. She was a grade A lesbian who wore converse with skinny jeans and plain tees. And for some reason, people enjoyed Emma's company over mine. Her long brownish/redish hair hung down just inches down from her shoulder and her smile was warm though she rarely ever did around people. She made friends faster and that's why I made her do everything. Example 1: My current girlfriend yet very obsessive and psychotic, was mine because of Emma. Emma did a lot for me. I did her easy sophomore homework and she was my wingman. Together we were unstoppable, or so I thought.
I woke up in a daze as my alarm clock blasted Mr. Brightside by The Killers. I let it play till the end and then my phone did a funny thing where it started playing it again. "Snooze motherfucker, snooze" I said as I pressed snooze more than business men in an elevator would press buttons. I established a routine over the four years of my life, go to bed late and wake up earlier than everyone just to sit in a classroom and fall asleep again. Today was the day the pattern would be broken, my final day of high school. With that motivation, I walked to the bus stop with one earphone in and one dangling down on my chest. I was listening to nothing.
On the bus I took my phone out, 32 missed calls. Not mom, not dad, not my siblings but Erica. My head slumped down further, shouldn't I be happy my girlfriend has called me this many times? To my luck Emma got on the bus and pushed past everyone. I held my head down, she can find me on her own.
"Erica?" She questioned.
"How did you know?" I groaned.
She held her phone out, 52 missed calls.
"This isn't okay, right?"
"Of course it isn't okay, she doesn't even like me and she's calling me" She laughed.
"It's not funny, I'm not good with this stuff. What do I do?"
"Probably stop being a pussy and own up to the fact that she's psychotic."
She bit into her chocolate bar, crumbs hitting my face every time she bit into it. I wanted to laugh but at the same time I was overly disgusted. I let it slide, I had a bigger problems. One, graduation and two, Erica.
