Chords

Summer

I can't remember what I had for breakfast this morning, but I can definitely feel it trying to come back up. This system of education makes me sick. Summer is coming, and final exams are blinding us all. I swear I've only been seeing in black and white for two weeks straight - those study guides were anything but gentle to my schedule. Especially my sleep schedule.

But I have to keep my breakfast down and eyes open. I stare down at the science exam that demands answers about multiple flowers I don't give a crap about. I squint at the badly printed photograph of a daisy that bombards me with the impossible question, "Which flower lives in the same environment as me?" Stupid daisy, so conceited. I find myself struggling with the question. Did I even study this? Was this ever even taught?!

Pull it together, Jess. Just guess A or B, it's always A or B. I take a deep breath and look at what I've already filled in on the bubble sheet to help influence my answer more.

A.

A.

C.

A.

I hesitate. Well, I haven't chosen good ol' B in awhile. B, Violet. I'm filling in the bubble and . . . 

That's the last thing I remember. 

The bell rings and my head snaps up from the sheet to look around. Everyone shoots up from their desks, talking and tossing their bubble sheets into a tray.

Wait, did I fall asleep? I can't remember anything past the daisy question.

Suddenly a hand clamps down on my shoulder, making me jump and look back. An old friend stands behind me. Ptolemy Way. Yeah, absolute mess for the substitutes to pronounce . . . but I don't think he minds watching people slobber all over themselves as they do role call. He's a content guy.

"You awake yet, Jess?" He snickers.

I blink and look at the paper. It's all filled in. "Yeah." I look up from it and get up, "Must've fallen asleep as soon as I finished."

My friend shrugs, dumping his own papers into the tray. "It's a smart idea to sleep now since the band's playing at Chewie's all night later."

I drop my papers into the tray and stare. "We got in?"

"I thought I told you!" He laughs at me as we go into the halls. 

"I so would've remembered that!" I exclaim. "What're we going to play, I can't think of our best one-"

We trek through the aftermath of school getting out for the summer. We brush up the debris of the dusty battlefield with our shoes and keep talking about tonight. 

See, I live in an absolute wasteland. This is the kind of town you visit only because your hick grandfather refuses to leave. There are so little people here Google maps doesn't even have us listed. I don't find it hard to believe, there's nothing to do . . . well, not until a year or two ago.

A music venue - Chewie's - was built right by The Square. The Square is well - a square. It's full of the only restaurants in town and with Chewie's added on it's been a hotspot for bored teenagers ever since. The place holds incredibly high standards for whoever wants to perform - it can afford to, as its the only cool place around. It can't lose it's reputation.

But now by some miracle my band is performing there on what could be the busiest night of the season.

"You nervous?" Ptolemy elbows me as we come up to the school doors.

"I can handle it." I roll my eyes.

"Uh-huh. You can't even talk to girls." He quips.

"What about Binny?" 

"She's in the band, she doesn't count." Ptolemy snickers.

"Well . . . I've talked to her friends." I try, pushing through the exit.

"Once. Remember what happened?" 

I crack a smile at the memory. "Alright, so the milkshakes were a bad idea."

We both go down the parking lot, which is already bare of any human life. The lot is littered with empty energy drinks, candy wrappers and study guides. A single notebook sits by itself in the corner on fire.

Ptolemy casually stomps the little flames out. "Milkshakes sound kind of good, though. Wanna go to The Square? I bet the others are already there."

"Can't argue with that."

Ptolemy and I stuff ourselves into the parlor that's packed with countless other hungry stomachs. I shift uncomfortably as unknown shoulders and arms rub up against mine. I was never fond of touching.

Ptolemy glances at me. "Aye, go find Binny and Tai."

With relief I escape. Luckily I found the two I was looking for at a table. Those two were always masters at grabbing a seat in a crowded place - it's like this weird talent of theirs. They're really good finders. 

I plop down. "Hey."

"Hey. Seat's taken." A brunette juts her head.

I snicker. That's the drummer, Binny. Well, Rebecca Bakere, but don't call her that. Long story. Beside her sits a guy about her size, Tai Kane. He only fakes a tough expression and shakes a small fist - doesn't talk much for a singer.

I play along with the sarcastic attitudes. "Well," I sit back, "You're going to have to make room."

"What do we get, huh?" Binny asks.

Ptolemy sets a tray of food down right then. Binny sits up. "Fair deal." She says, taking one of the shakes.

They all chuckle as Ptolemy crash lands beside me in a seat. "So, we haven't talked 'bout what set we're going to do tonight." 

The three of them dig out their phones and notes and start planning. I gladly join in to decide which songs would be the best to perform, but from there . . . 

I don't remember. It's like the daisy question all over again.