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Michael
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Every Monday is the same.
It follows a pattern. For me that is. I work in a cafe on Sunday, up until 5pm. I usually get company off my best friend Jamie-Leigh, which I'm thankful for. I then get home for around 5:15. Me and my mum eat dinner, then do the dishes, then we watch a film, and before you know it, it's 9pm. I then have a shower, because the smell of coffee and cake clings to my burgundy work shirt. Long showers are my thing, so by 9:45pm, I dried, in my boxers and in bed. Usually, although I've seen her already, I FaceTime with Jamie-Leigh or Jim, so you can get used to her nickname, at around 10pm. She can't miss my random fact of the day, although this is the second.
"In the UK, it is illegal to eat mince pies on Christmas Day," was my fact tonight.
"Damn, I've broken the law a few times there," she returned, with one of her smiles on her face that tells me it's okay to tell her this random shit, although she is 100% uninterested.
Before you know it, it's 1am and Jamie-Leigh is yawning loudly. So we go to sleep. This is when the usual Monday pattern begins.
I sleep through my alarm, by around 30 minutes. That snooze button gets hit so hard there is practically a dip in my phone screen. I finally groan and roll out of bed. Without time to shower, luckily having had one the night before, it isn't too gross. I rub some wax through my died hair to give it the messy look. Unlike Jamie-Leigh, who is in University, I still have college, so I have to be up and there, just like school. I throw on my favourite pair of black jeans, ripped on one knee and a light grey top, with long dark grey sleeves.
I hop down the stairs, scrap that, I trail down the stairs like a zombie and grab my bag that's thrown on the floor by the door. My simple black backpack is thrown over my shoulder as I walk to the kitchen to say goodbye to my mum. I kiss her cheek before grabbing an apple from beside her and walking out.
I take a chunk out of my apple as I open the little gate at the bottom of my garden, and close it again after my exit. My college is literally a second away from my house, so before you know it, I'm there and my apple is unfinished. I throw it in the bin and walk through the big glass doors into the school.
At this time, 9:20am, I usually walk past the girl I admire from afar, Marnie Felicity Evans. So I was expecting it, except it didn't happen, which I weird and I'm not used to it. So I continued down the hall, where I found my friend James, leaning up against the glass window on the outside, smoking a cigarette. I banged on the window three times really hard making him put his hands around his head in protection and duck away from the door. I burst out laughing at the sight, as I saw him mouth 'shit'.
"You're a dick," he mouthed through the window although I couldn't hear him. I pointed to the door and followed him along the glass until he reached it. I opened the door for him and looked around the doorway to the outside. First to my left, nothing, then too my right, I saw a sight that was definitely not part of my average Monday...
Marnie was pressed against the wall by a guy with a curly quiff and clad with sunglasses rested on his head, a black t-shirt that was clearly too big for him and a pair of skinny jeans that were too tight around his calfs and extremely baggy around his thighs. He had slight stubble on his face, he was almost my polar opposite.
Her beautiful long dark hair hung down her back as it was splayed out against the wall. Her floaty white tank top hung off her beautifully and her high waisted denim jeans clung to her every curve. She was perfect.
I couldn't help but feel a bit hurt and shocked at the sight of them making out in front of the small crowd of people who were now gathered around them. I always thought she was so shy and reserved, and if the guy was who I thought he was, he was known as the bad boy, the player so you might say.
After about 30 seconds, James tapped my shoulder to catch my attention.
"I shit my pants," he commented bluntly.
"As in for real?" I replied, holding in a laugh, "how?"
"You know how I love the Sidemen right?" I nodded before James continued, "well I was watching Simon and Josh play a game with jump scares, and I'd also eaten a really spicy Mexican for my dinner, and it was really dark and it made me jump, so, I shit myself."
I broke down into an actual fit of laughter, I was almost crying. James looked embarrassed at first before breaking into a slight chuckle at the end.
With that, the rush of people heading to class came through and James and I joined in with the flow of people. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marnie holding hands with the guy she was kissing before, and although I never got close to having her, she seemed even further out of reach now.
I reached my music class and walked into the room filled with guitars and other instruments. There was a gang of people who always seemed to hang out in the corner. They had beanies pulled far down on their heads with bright coloured hair underneath and always wore ripped clothes. I went and stood in my regular spot at the back of the room, with the acoustic guitars. I picked one up, sat on the table and began to quietly strum it.
The door swung open and hit against the wall, and in walked a guy, around 5"2 with a huge smile on his face. Everyone looked up to face him. He nervously laughed before walking to the back of the room. Frankie, our teacher, looked up at him, chewing her pen.
"May I help you?" She asked looking over her large, round glasses.
"Hi, I'm urm Danny, and no, I'm not 12," he let out a slight laugh, "I'm here to study music, of course."
"Okay, Danny," she adjusted her glasses, "play us something."
His face tightened under the pressure and his lips pursed. I can remember my first music class and having to play a song, and being absolutely terrified.
He nodded slowly and hesitantly went to grab the guitar next to me. I nodded in reassurance as he picked up the guitar, not very confidently, I must add. He stood near the back right corner of the room and held the guitar in his hand. He pressed his fingers to some of the strings and lined his hand up with the guitar. He struck the guitar strings, making an awful noise, and pushing the guitar out of his own hands and watching it clatter to the floor.
"Are you sure music is right for you?" Frankie asked covering her mouth and hiding her giggles.
Danny blushed at everyone's laughter and ran out of then room. I decided to follow after him quickly.
"Danny," I yelled down the corridor, but it was too late, he had disappeared around the corner. I'd catch him another time.
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I'm British, so if you ever get confused just ask.
1295 words
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