Dangers of Daydreaming

Chapter 8

WOW IT'S ALMOST THE END OMG I CANNOT BELIEVE IT HAHAHA I'M SORRY AGAIN IF THE PACING IS THE WORST

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The talk with Tom has obviously made me see the light. I realize so many things, especially about myself and how I’ve changed.

            It’s not that I didn’t like myself after the said alterations, in fact I like it, but being normal (and weird, of course) is what I like best. Not caring about my appearance, if I have a bad hair day or if my foundation isn’t level with the complexion of my neck. That’s just being too self-conscious, and I think the girls in my school are self-conscious enough for the whole country.

            I’m ripped out of my reverie by the loud and shrill sound of my ringtone. Dashing my way from the kitchen to the living room to get my phone, I almost trip on the coffee table. Whew, I think. I thought I was gonna fall back there!

            Picking my phone up from the couch, I answer it without glancing at the caller. I can only hope I can recognize the caller’s voice. “Hello?” A deep voice greets my ear. “Um, hello?” I greet, but ends up sounding like a question. I can’t seem to identify the person calling me.

            “Tom, is this you? You left your coat here, by the way,” I say, assuming it’s Tom. His voice isn’t really that deep when we’re talking face-to-face, but phone call conversations end up being so different. And I know that his voice through the phone is deeper than normal.

            But it’s not him.

            “No,” the voice tells me. “It’s Gus. You should probably save my number now.” I can hear the joking tone in his voice. And I close my mouth with my hand, and my eyes are wide with shock and enthusiasm all at the same time. “Oh, Gus,” I say, once I’ve calmed myself down. “Sorry about that. And I will save your number,” I chuckle nervously. “So, uh, why’d you call?”

            The thought of talking to Gus on the phone seems surreal. A few months ago, he was nothing but the new, gorgeous guy that saved me before I fell when I was in the most drunken and stupid moments of my life. Aside from meeting him that night, I also remember how my head almost split in half the next morning.

            My very first hangover.

            And then I started seeing him in school, admiring him from afar, and just looking at how perfect his every move is. I know I sound like an insanely, obsessed girl that’s overly attached with someone that doesn’t exactly reciprocate the feelings.

            Trust me, I’ve started thinking about my probably-damaged mental health.

            I won’t be surprised if I end up in an asylum or in a shrink’s office.

            “I just wanted to ask if you wanted the color of my vest to be the same as your dress’.” He says smoothly, but before I can even respond, I hear something in the background. And I can only hope I heard wrong.

            A manly voice says something so vague, but it sounded like, “Pass the weed, bro.” Maybe I heard wrong. Yeah, maybe. Or maybe not. God, I’m starting to think Gus might be a drug user.

            “Uh, um, uh… Um. I-is it okay with you?” I ask, biting my tongue for stuttering. He might think I heard the background. As much as I want to, I can’t just ask him if he’s dealing with or doing drugs. We barely know each other. The most we know about each other is that we have Trigonometry in our academic schedule.