🖤⚡️They Met In A Record Shop⚡️🖤

Chapter 6: In Which We See From Allison's Perspective

(Allison's Perspective)

I can't wait to go over to her house this weekend!
I get butterflies every time I'm around her.
I've known I'm bi for a year or two now, so it wasn't such a shocker when I developed a romantic crush on my new best friend.
Every time I saw her or talked to her or texted or even just thought of her, positive emotions filled my head and refused to leave.
I'd think of her when I watched a movie or tv show that had a cute couple in it, or when I'd go to the mall and see couples holding hands as they walked.
And I'd always smile brightly, wanting to dance.
Every weekday I woke up looking forward to seeing her, and I knew that on weekends I would look forward to watching my phone light up and seeing her name on my lockscreen, telling me I've received a text message from her.
Or if I was lucky enough, maybe even a phone call.
I wanted to go record shopping with her.
I wanted to watch movies with her and bake cookies with her.
I wanted to listen to music and draw with her.
I wanted to sing songs with her and dance with her.
If she was ever to text me frustrated because her homework is too difficult, I'd be willing to help.
And if she ever texted me on a sleepless night I'd be willing to FaceTime her and chat until she falls asleep, no matter how late it would be.
I love her.
And I know that's insane, because we just met, but I love her.
I love her!
And I hope she loves me back.
When we left the cafeteria at the end of seventh period, I made my way to math class as I thought of her, and thought up scenarios in my head where perhaps I'd be brave enough to tell her how I feel.
When I sat down at a desk in my math class, I took a sheet of paper out of my backpack along with my pen.
I drew Marigold's name in big, bold letters, and drew doodles in the background.
Lava lamps, hearts, stars, stuff like that.
Then I shaded everything in with the pen.
"Allison?" my teacher said, earning some giggles from some of the kids in class which I despised.
My head quickly shot up to make eye contact with my teacher.
"Yes?" I replied.
"You're a lovely artist but perhaps save the drawing for later?" she said rather kindly, and I smiled ever so slightly.
"Of course." I said before putting the paper back into my bag and instead getting my math supplies out of the backpack.
The teacher continued the lesson and I listened closely.
But all I could think about was ninth period English, and the fact that I get to see Marigold when I'm there.
I was so grateful that Marigold wanted to hang out at her house instead of mine.
I didn't want her to know how mean my dad gets when we distract him from his work as an author.
I didn't want her to see that blank frown from my mother who would probably stare at her with those angry eyes with dark circles under them.
I didn't want her to see how sometimes my parents would either just forget to make meals for me and my five siblings, or how other times they just refused to as punishment.
Punishment for what?
Sometimes for real, actually bad things like skipping class or getting into fights at school, or even for vaping and smoking, which my older siblings often got caught for, but even then you shouldn't make your kid skip a meal.
But sometimes they refused to make us food just as punishment for existing.
Which... wasn't our choice.
It was theirs.
But they refuse to take responsibility.
And my siblings?
My four brothers and one little sister?
We all argue a lot, as any siblings do, but our fighting is a little extreme.
Meaning our house is basically a Fight Club.
They'll find any reason to start a literal fistfight with you.
You stole the last cookie out of the pantry?
Punch in the face.
Stuff like that.
And sure, I guess that seems slightly normal.
But when you constantly get asked by your teachers what the bruises on your arms and face are from and you have to begin making excuses, you realize that's not normal and begin to wonder what a normal family is like.
I don't know any difference.
But that's okay.
Maybe Marigold has a normal family, and maybe she can show me what a supportive family is.
It'll be so nice to escape my house to go to hers, and I told myself this, even not knowing the condition of Marigold's household, because I thought to myself that no matter how bad it could be, I'd be there with her, to see her sweet smile and hear her joyful laughter and watch badass movies with her.
And that's the best thing for me.
I smiled and zoned out through most of my math class that day, until we were handed our homework.
But even then as I paired useless numbers into equations I zoned out.
When I go to her house I'll bring some vinyls to listen to and some movies to watch.
And my purse, too, along with everything I'd normally have in it, which is just whatever book I'd be reading at the moment, my wallet, and a small first-aid kit.
And that's really all I'd need, since I wouldn't be staying the night.
The ringing of the bell was music to my ears, and I gladly left my math class to make my way to English where I'd be blessed with Marigold's presence once again.
I smiled as I walked the hallways, thinking of her glassy eyes and effortlessly charming smile.
And that was all I needed to feel better.