Feel This

Chapter 1

Oddly enough, the bus ride to and from college were usually my favourite parts of the day. Waking up in the morning, groggy and blurry eyed, didn’t seem all too bad knowing there was a sort of limbo period before I actually had to apply myself to the real world. In the same way, the bus ride would act as a kind of winding down process after the stress and anxiety of college. I’d sit back, plug my headphones in and drift away. As far as I was concerned, I didn’t exist in reality during those half hour journeys. I would happily ignore the world and it would happily ignore me. Sometimes I would reinvent my entire life to my liking, sculpting and shaping every aspect of my existence to effortlessly coincide with the beat of the music. Other times, I would succumb to the melancholy tunes on my playlist and think about the monotonous daily routines I endured whilst trying to convince myself that it all got better. 

On this particular morning, groggy and blurry eyed didn’t even begin to describe how utterly exhausted I felt. When the alarm sliced harshly through my peaceful slumber I couldn't be bothered opening my eyes. I simply extended my arm towards the bedside table and bashed around aimlessly until I eventually found the alarm clock and shut it up with a slam of the off button.  I groaned. I rolled over and stuffed my face into the warm pillow and groaned again, louder. I pulled the duvet up over my head, cocooning myself and groaned some more. This was not going to be easy. I stuck my foot out of the safety of the warm bed before deciding I was not ready and immediately yanking it back in. There was a knock at my door followed by the sound of it opening and my mum’s cheery morning voice.

“You awake?”

I didn’t respond.

“Zoe?”

I wondered how long I had to be unresponsive for before she decided I was dead and left me in peace.

“Zo?” I heard her coming further into the room and as I sensed her standing above me, I braced myself for what was about to happen. I felt her hard finger prod me in the middle of my back and I squirmed as it sent a ticklish sensation spreading in all directions from that point. 

“Zoe Zoe Zoe!” She did it again, slightly harder this time sending stronger waves of tickly sensations across my back. I mumbled frustrated nothings into my pillow and rolled to the opposite side of my bed, away from her prodding fingers. Immature wake up call for a 17 year old, I thought. I hated that it worked.

“I’m up, I’m up.” I croaked at her, sounding more like a chainsaw than a human being.

“Twenty minutes,” mum chirped as she left my room, closing the door behind her. What a weirdo. Why was she always so bright and bubbly in the morning? In my opinion, 7am was too early for me to be alive.

I half fell, half slid out of the bed like a spineless being and just stayed sprawled out on my floor for a while.  I squeezed my eyes shut, picturing the dull sequence of events that would make up another one of my already limited days. I really didn’t want to go to college. I really didn’t want to go anywhere or do anything for that matter. I just wanted to sit like the unmotivated lump I was and actively wait for life to get slightly more interesting. I couldn’t pin point the exact moment in the recent past where everything became meaningless to me but it had done and it was becoming more and more of a problem. It permeated every aspect of my life, draining the colour from each and every animated scene that I lived through like a leech. 

Eventually, I managed to change into some jeans and a shapeless jumper before attempting to detangle my hair with an old brush. With a swift glance at myself in my full length mirror, I decided this was as good as it was going to get. I grabbed my bulging backpack from the hook behind my door and bounded down the stairs. Making my way into our small, yet cosy kitchen I stole a sip of coffee from my mum's steaming, bright red mug before grabbing a piece of toast on the way out.

“Bye mum!”

The door slammed shut before I heard her reply. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and started the ten minute walk in the cool April weather. There were three more months left of term and I was officially counting down the seconds. Come the end of July, I wouldn't have to walk this route so early in the morning for six whole weeks before the new year started. A tiny smile played on my lips as I pictured the lie ins and all that free time. 

My earphones were already in and a playlist had already been chosen before I reached the bus stop. I had gone for a mellow, dull theme to match the equally as mellow, dull theme I was expecting the rest of the day to adopt. I turned the volume of my music up to counteract the noise of the cars whizzing past and as I scanned the small, crowded bus shelter covered in graffiti, I observed the usual people that were milling about waiting for their particular bus like they did each morning. School kids were chatting excitedly, corporate folk were talking bluntly and the elderly were conversing happily.

And then my line of sight fell upon a half silhouetted figure that didn't seem particularly social or familiar. This one lonely boy had caught my eye. I’d never seen him here before. He stood alone from the group of people, facing the road. From his profile I gathered that he was handsome. His jaw line was sharp and strong with a perfectly straight nose to match. He had dark brown messy hair with a smattering of stubble across his lower face.  I guessed he was around 18 or 19 years old and for some reason it felt like he was entitled to this display of loneliness, like he demanded it, owned it. After noticing he too had earphones in I couldn’t help but wonder what he was listening to. As if he sensed my question, he took out an earphone with one swift movement and looked in my direction. I was too intrigued to look away. Although I couldn't particularly see his eyes clearly, there was a burning intensity in their wake and I felt my stomach do a little flip-flop as a result. I thought I saw a hint of a smirk as he reinserted his earphone and turned away. I felt a sort of giddiness wash over me and had to remind myself that he was a complete stranger. The cool breeze that blew around me, calmed me a little as I turned away from him, looking for the number 41 schoolbus. I wonder who he was? 

My train of thought was interrupted by my phone’s vibrations. I fished it out of my pocket and read the new text message from one of my close friends, Rebecca. She was one of few people who could get me out of my occasional unmotivated funks.

“Apparently there’s a new guy this term from America! Ten pounds says he’s gorgeous. We need some of that in the UK! I call dibs in advance. (: ”

I grinned and rolled my eyes. Rebecca was the kind of girl who could hook any guy she wanted and she knew it. Thankfully though, her confidence never came across as arrogance and together we had this knack for getting along with almost all the different groups at college. I saw my school bus approaching and quickly tapped out a reply.

“He’s all yours. Already picturing your hybrid-accented babies (;”

 I wasn't really interested in being in a relationship. From what I'd gathered they always ended in ruined friendships, hurt feelings and because of all the crying, a boom in sales for the tissue companies.

A couple of minutes later, the dark blue bus stopped right in front of me and I hopped on, flashed the elderley driver my pass and headed to my usual seat towards the back. I rested my head against the window and began drifting away to the drum beat of my music when I noticed the guy, the lonely, handsome, silhouetted figure getting on the same bus. I sat up and took out an earphone as I watched him ask and pay for a ticket. Amongst the clinking of change and the familiar rip of the cheap ticket paper I could’ve sworn I heard the unmistakable twang of an American accent.