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Chapter 6

Thursday. Probably my least favorite day because it's not Friday. I don't really see the reason for us to go to school for five days a week. Why not just drop Monday? I would give everyone that much needed buffer day before getting back to work. But that's never gonna happen because I'm just a whiny little teenager. I really hate being judged by my age. And it's mostly by middle aged, lonely and unhappy men and women. Well, I may be judging them by their age but that's different... well not really.

The drive to school is always the same, seeing the same people out on the street and chatting with my barista at the café. I bore myself of the drive and a month into the school year I had worn out my school playlist. Just a one more week of school then I can sleep in late every day, all summer.

I park in my usual spot in the parking lot and I notice that not many people had arrived yet. The parking lot appeared to be a ghost town except for four other cars scattered about. I enter into the school through the side entrance and the halls were just as empty as the parking lot. The hands on the clock split it right down the middle, signaling that it was six o'clock.

I begin my walk to my locker on the second floor, by the several art studios we had lined up in our school. I catch a glimpse of the cafeteria as I turned to climb the stairs and I see the owners of those few other cars in the parking lot. Few kids sit at one table, three talking and two making googly eyes at each other.

Love. How does one begin to describe it? It can be the one deciding factor in an argument. It can create wars but it can also end them. I think people overuse the word 'love'. I mean you'll hear people throwing it around left and right, like it just doesn't matter. When one says "I love you" it should be a special moment for both, the person saying it and the person it is being said to. The only people I've ever said "I love you" to was my family, and Blake and Harlie. To me, those are the only people that deserve my love. I mean, those people I would take a bullet for. When I love someone, it means that I will always put them before me. I will do anything to make sure they're happy.

I've never told any of my past boyfriends that I loved them. Partly because we didn't last that long to get to that point in the relationship. When a guy tells me he loves me, I want the moment to be special, not just at some random night we're hanging out. I'm sure that by the time he feels that way for me, he'll know exactly what to do, and what I'll want.

I find myself walking right by my locker and I stumble to turn around and go back to it. I enter my combination and when I open my locker, a piece of paper flutters out. Bending down to pick it up, it feels thicker than a regular piece of paper. I stand back up and open up the folded piece of paper. On the inside I see my name printed in some type of cursive font right at the top. The boarder consists of random black swirls and the paper looks to be as old as the constitution itself. I look further down the page and it reads,

Your presence is requested at the Last Day Disaster.

They always came up with very interesting names for this thing.

Feel free to bring a date, for one will not be provided or go alone! What do I care? All snacks and drinks will be delivered by Harrison's mom, so please don't go out and buy any. The party will take place at ye old mansion (The Brukinghaunt Estate). Party will begin at 6pm on the last day of school and go until we all pass out and wake up the next morning.

Please RSVP by the end of the day on Friday/Tomorrow.

Text Harrison's phone to RSVP.

Typed under the last sentence was Harrison's number and I slid my phone out from my back pocket and text him. I reply with a definite yes and add a few party emoji's. As I begin to put my phone back into my pocket, it goes off and I receive a reply from Harrison. It included several thumbs up, a party emoji, and a winking face. I reply, 'Is that how you respond to every RSVP?' and he swiftly replies with a simple, 'Nope, just yours". Rolling my eyes I slide my phone into my pocket and proceed to put my books in my bag for class.