The weekend had come and gone exactly as it always did. Brad went about his usual business: hanging out with his mates and writing songs. Although he had kept to his weekend routine, his mind had been elsewhere. It was focused on her.
He barely knew anything about her, but he couldn't help picturing her everywhere he was. When he was sitting in his room with his acoustic guitar, he wondered if she would lay on his bed and listen to his unfinished songs or help him complete that final verse. When he ordered pizza for the boys, he wondered if she would ask for her favorite toppings or if she would agree with whatever everyone else wanted. When he couldn't fall asleep, he wondered if she was asleep or wide awake as well.
As the boy slid into the chair of his history class, his hand reached for the sticky note the expected him.
Brad, I would be honored to learn how to play guitar or piano from you. I would also be honored to hear you play one of your songs. I bet that they are amazing. As for bands, the three that you named are all great, however, I personally love ABBA and Queen. Recently though, I have been listening to a lot of All Time Low and the Killers. Speaking of favorites, what are your favorite things? Off the top of my head... my favorite color is lilac, food is either grilled cheese or ice cream, song is currently Andante Andante by ABBA, and hobby is reading.
~ September
The note was in her black handwriting just as it always was. His heart skipped a beat as he read over every word. Her list of favorites was barely scratching the surface, but Brad felt closer to her than the past couple of days.
He wished the note was longer, but there was only so much room. Finding his familiar blue pen, Brad began his response.
Hello September. My favorite color is red, food is probably chicken nuggets, song currently is 505 by the Arctic Monkeys, and hobby is writing songs. I think it is very admirable that your favorite hobby is reading. I wish I was that way. Don't get me wrong, I have truly tried, but I have had a hard time finding a book that I can become that invested in. Would you have any recommendations? Anyways, how was your weekend? Mine was alright. My family went on a vacation, so I was home alone. Where has been the best place you have vacationed? I want to say mine was probably France.
~ Bradley :)
Adding a small smiley face next to his name, he placed his note back where it belonged. He had been so invested in his words to September that he hadn't noticed the lecture had begun. Although, it wasn't like he was planning to pay attention. The boy was too focused on the mystery girl.
Just as he had done all weekend, he pictured September seated next to him. He pictured her head in her hand as she doodled aimlessly on a stack of stick notes. He pictured her as best as he could.
As soon as the bell rung, Brad was out of his seat. He only had one more class and then he was done with Monday. Meeting up with his mates outside of his creative writing class, the four boys made their way inside and to their designated seats. Without thought, Brad's bag fell to the floor by his feet. He opened his notebook to the newest empty page as Mrs. Jones began class.
"Happy Monday. I hope you all have progressed in your projects this weekend. Keep in mind, they are due on Friday. No late work people. Anyways, I want to start today off with a 5 min. I forgot to pull a topic out this morning, so I just want you guys to write about your weekend. Okay?"
The class hummed in understanding. Mrs. Jones pulled out her phone and began her timer for 5 minutes. Brad looked down at his empty page. This was always the exercise he hated most. Sure, all he had to do was write for 5 minutes straight, but it was never anything good.
Okay, well, my weekend began at 10 Saturday morning. No one was home besides me. I made a bowl of cereal and watched whatever movie was playing on ITV. I'm not sure what it was. It seemed interesting enough. I took a shower after that and worked on my poem. Tris came over and we played FIFA for a bit, until James and Connor got there. We had band practice before we had pizza and watched some horror movie that Con said was good. It was okay. I went to bed and woke up Sunday morning. Did the same thing. Woke up, ate cereal, watched TV, took a shower. I did go out for lunch with my other friend Conner. That was fun. I walked by an old record store. I should probably visit by there. I could see if they have this Rolling Stones record Natalie's been looking for. What else did I do? But for the most part, I thought about her.
Right as he wrote the confession that was weighing on his mind, the timer went off. It wasn't much for the 5 min, but something is better than nothing.
"I hope you all wrote something substantial. For today, I wanted to go over the basics of scripts as we begin the playwright unit."
Brad barely listened to Mrs. Jones as she began her presentation. Instead of his focus staying on the board, his eyes roamed the others in his class. He knew pretty much everyone in the class except for a few people. As he took in each person, it dawned on him that he hardly knew anyone.
Sure, some of the kids in his class he had known since he was in primary school, but he hardly knew them. He couldn't tell you what they did in their spare time or their possible hidden talents. Brad couldn't even tell you their favorite colors.
That's when it finally hit him. Anyone could be September.
If he couldn't recognize people in his class, how would her small list of favorites make her stand out from the rest. At that moment, the idea of finding her sounded impossible.
