skipping class with a natural maroon haired bassist

You.

Before today, I didn’t know you had so much affect in me?

Well let’s start from the beginning.

The first class we had today was Chemistry. It was boring as fuck (as always).

I was a little bit sad because, no matter where I sit, you always sit on the same line, but against the windows. This time someone threw my bag to another table, near the glittery bitchy sharks (I’m talking about the airhead girls ofc). I felt like I’d be devoured by them, but I wasn’t. Luckily, I have experience with these high school species, so I survived.

Next came History class. It was fantastic, as always. To be honest, this day started off like pretty much any Tuesday in the history of Tuesdays of this year: I thought it’d be the same. But it wasn't.

After History class we had a break, but I don’t need to talk about that. (It was like any other: Little Fish, Bright Eyes and me picked up a guitar and a bass to jam for a bit). Little Fish and Bright Eyes are my awesomely dumb best friends. I call her Little Fish because she's a pro swimmer (for real) and I call him Bright Eyes because... well, I think you got it.

Then, Biology started. It took place in the lab, and my group is pretty funny, so it was okay. I talked to Aries (she’s got a great mind) and we laughed a lot. I honestly like her.

Ok. Finally, Educational Orientation. Well that class was… tense. Basically we had to discuss about ~life and I don’t think I need to say this, but I disagreed with a lot of people. And yes, I stood up for my beliefs.

When I was talking, a thunder crossed the sky and the noise was sharp and defining, and obviously, unexpected. Everyone screamed (but me. It takes more than that for me to be suddenly scared) and the dumb ass teacher forgot I was the one speaking. I got embarrassed. Some people disagreed with me, but I don’t mind. I like this kind of class: you learn a lot from and about people, and human race in general.

The rest of my afternoon doesn’t really matter. 

At noon I went to school again, straight to the library. There I met Bubblegum, who although is so freaking sappy (that's why the nickname) I could throw up right now just by thinking about it, is cool. Besides, he has a great taste in music. I almost didn’t sit with him but thankfully, something made me change my mind? I don’t even know.

Then, you.

You were there. Red head, a dark red, you know, just a bit darker than the couch in Paramore’s All We Know Is Falling album? Yeah. Maroon. You were there the whole time, but I didn’t notice you, somehow… Oh, right. I wasn’t wearing glasses.

Back to the point, you saw us. And you sat with us, and I couldn’t believe what was happening because, for once in my life, I had the perfect timing. I was in the exact place and time I had always wanted to be. Well, not exactly (I don’t like the school’s library that much, and Bubblegum is a freaking clingy) but yeah. You were there. That was… nice, I guess.

And when I told you two I had to go to Math class, wow. “No, no, c’mon, stay…” I still can’t believe those words slipped from your mouth, right into my ears.

We talked. Wow. That sounds… weird? I talked to you. You talked to me. I looked straight into your eyes, and you looked straight at my dull bronze ones. And although all of this happened, I still don’t know your eyes’ color. But they must be something, because I certainly couldn’t take mine off of them. My best theory is that color like sunshine through a glass of whiskey.

God, you laughed at the things I said. You listened to me, you paid attention. Hell, not even my own family does that, not even my own friends, do that. You are something, aren’t you? Well at least to me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be wasting my time writing this, especially when I have so much homework to get done… And a math test tomorrow.

I usually don’t remember anything from these kinds of moments: it sucks. I usually don’t remember what I said, what they said, what we did, how I felt in the moment.

But something in you makes it linger… It’s like I’m still there, frozen, on the library desk, on the very back, and usually I’d too feel anxious, insecure, and my legs feel often shaky.

This time, nah. I felt safe, you know? And what I’m about to write, it’s probably going to sound the most clichiest thing ever but… It felt like we had known each other for years. It felt like I was in between friends, not just friends, best friends. Like I had nothing to fear, like it was okay to just be me and not feel worried… It was… an awesome feeling.

Then you moved to my left, you sat there right beside me, and we continued talking. I remember thinking to myself “just enjoy this moment and feel it, because it’s one of those that happen one time in a million years to you so…”

And I let it be. You laughed, you grinned, god, you smirked. And from the corner of my eye, I felt your gaze in me, but I didn’t avoid it.

That moment, it was… natural. It was real. It was great, even.

And the thunder moment? When I felt embarrassed? You remembered it. God, you remembered it, and you said “Yeah, the noise and everyone started talking and I was like ‘no but the girl was speaking, let her continue’” and I laughed because you're so sweet. But inside? I was melting. Wow, that sounded cheesy. But I don’t care! You know why? I spent years trying to recover from what that prick did to me, from everything I’ve been through, and the past didn’t let me care for anybody else, and it’s been a long time since I’ve felt this way about somebody.

So yeah. I think you’re cute. I think you’re deep. You play the bass, and I melt. Your pale skin reminds me of Michael Clifford, and so does your smirk. You laugh a lot, and that makes me comfortable. Your eyes look right into mine, and I get lost in them when they do.

And when we parted ways, you in a hoodie in the rain, and I waiting for Blue Eyes (one of my best friends) to come, I thought you wouldn’t talk to me ever again. Especially in the next class, especially when you’d be with your ‘popular’ friends, even though you’re not that popular, because you’re quiet, and you don’t feel the need to seek attention all the time like they seem to.

But somehow, somehow, we ended up side by side in some moment in the music class. There I was, talking to Anna, a tiny, chubby girl that had bright eyes, but with dark bags under them. She was cute, and we talked a lot. When she left, you got closer, looked at me and said “Anna is cute, isn’t she?” and although that was the worst way to start a conversation ever, somehow, we managed to continue it. We talked about school, you asked me, god, you asked me where I’d travel to, holy fuck. Holy fuck! You told me to change where I’d go, and go to your city with your group! I told you my group was rather nice, and you said yours was two, and that that was why I should come with you…

We listened to the songs they played, our feet and hands beating to the same sound, in the same rhythm, going through the same motion… Then we played together, and you were there, right there with your bass, in front of me, and I swear I could’ve died right there…

Oh, man.

If we knew each other better, if only, then I’d say you feel like home. The same way my friends do, the same way my family does. But we don’t, we don’t know each other that well, and you probably don’t care about me the way I do about you, you’re just too nice. Your friends? They are nothing like me, nothing like mine.

And now that I’m thinking, this could turn out right, but it won’t. Because the only thing that connects us two, is music. Your bass and my drums, that play the same rhythm every Tuesday. And although music is to me the most powerful thing in the world, and can do wonders, it's not enough to make us, us. And I know I’m optimistic, sometimes even too much, but you’re not. You’re realistic: I noticed that. I noticed in the way you spoke on the Educational Orientation class, but I almost mistook it for pessimism.

“… No it’s not, it’s realistic thinking.” You said.

Who would’ve thought, I’d have a crush on a realistic one? The bassist? The maroon haired? The pale-skinned, Mr. Popular’s friend?

Ha, certainly no one…