When Life Happens

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

*Beth's POV*

The drive to school is absolutely boring, as it has been almost every other day for the past three years. I sneak a glance at Hannah, fixing her mascara in the backseat and then glance over at Jonah, one hand on the wheel and the other hand fixated on his temple, the way it usually is when he's in deep thought. 

"Whatcha thinking, Jonah?"

He startles at my sudden question, then says, a little uncomfortably,

"It's just, Samantha is just such a bitch the past week. It's not really anything new I guess, but ever since that party a few weeks back it's like she's finally on that Taylor Swift man-hungry level, ya know?"

At the mention of Sam's name, I see Hannah glance up from the side mirror. I shoot her a sympathetic glance, hoping she'll catch it. 

"Jonah, Jonah. I absolutely adore you.. you know I do. But please do not mention Sam's name within a five mile radius of me. You know I can't stand her."

That receives a snicker from our backseat passenger, and before Jonah can argue, I turn up the radio even though I cannot stand Drake.

"Honestly Jo, why do you even listen to this garbage?" 

"You know, if you weren't my little sister I'd kick you out of the car right now and make you walk to school."

And despite his comment, being the best big brother, Jonah switches the setting to CD and out blares his unofficial "Favorite" playlist CD I made him a couple days ago. 

The stoooryy of my lifeee, I taaakee her hoomee, I drive all niiiiight to keep her warm and tiiiimmmeee is fro-ooo-oozeenn 

I sit low in my seat, a smug smile plastered on my face, and let the euphonious voices of my loves calm my anxiety for the upcoming school day.

We arrive at the front parking lot after about twenty minutes of listening to the musical stylings of every artist/group I love, composed into a nifty little disk by yours truly.

I take in my surroundings, as I do every day, and scan the mass of people for those prominent blue eyes. I'm nudged from behind and I look to Hannah, the obvious culprit. She nods subtly towards a small group of people, gathered around a bench. My heart jumps, yeah actually jumps, and my breath catches at the sight of James Mathews. 

"We totally just made eye contact right now," I manage to say in just one breath.

"We're going to see our soulmates in a few days and you're still obsessing over this one boy who, might I add, has managed to not notice you once in our entire high school careers."

Score one for Hannah, ever the Debbie Downer.

We link arms and make our way inside the long corridor leading to our lockers. My collage of posters has not yet caused a frown on my face, and my mood is suddenly lifted when I look into the green eyes above my photo-covered mirror. 

"It's not fair. There are girls out experiencing life and stalking One Direction up-close and personal, and here we are, two fetching and somewhat breathtaking -if you squint small enough- nerd girls stuck in the purgatory that is high school."

"Agreed. I cannot wait for college. And our road trip, omgeezy. We can hitch-hike, and build bonfires, and leave notes in bathroom stalls and public libraries and just everywhere we go. We can talk to strangers and catch fireflies- I've kinda always wanted to do that."

My eyes light up at the mention of our road trip. That might just be the only reason I still work at my hell hole of a job. Road trip= Car. Car= Gasoline. Gas= Money I don't have. I'd rather stay here and discuss every little detail of our plan but the warning bell rings, signaling five minutes for the torture to begin.

"Okay, I'm off to Creative Writing. Catch up at lunch!" I say with a smile, as we both turn and head in separate directions.

If you ask me, Creative Writing is probably the best class in the history of awesome classes. I'm able to take it since I'm ahead of my credits and it's just one- of the vast list- of electives that I didn't think sounded absolutely terrible. My teacher, Mr. Booney, does this combo of philosophy and fictional freewriting every other day, which I absolutely love. Another bonus of being a smart kid in high school, is you might just end up in a class with the school's most loved and absurdly popular, James Mathews, who, may I just say, is the normal world equivalent to Johnny Depp- in his teenage years of course. And I write about love a lot, and what I think it'd be like to be loved. Be loved by Harry. Just kidding, that's not going to happen. *Insert heavy sigh* At least I can write about the endless possibilities though. 

And really, what's the harm in hoping? A girl can dream after all.