The next day is bank holiday Monday. Now, as far as I am concerned, this means that a day is traditionally spent away from work, with family, or snoring in bed. However, the rest of the world seems to be of the opposite opinion, particularly the hyper-enthusiastic head teacher who recently adopted my school. All students in year 12 are required to drop in for catch-up.
As if one day is going to miraculously solve all of our errors.
“What do they even think they’re going to gain? Just because it’s a bank holiday doesn’t mean we aren’t going to sit and talk over the teacher and drown our failures in music like we usually do,” I grumble to Kate over the phone.
It is eight o’ clock in the morning and I’ve already been on the phone for an hour. She demanded that I call and explain as soon as I woke up. In return, I swore her to secrecy.
When she heard the whole ‘potential’ scenario, she wouldn’t stop squealing, so I changed the topic to school in the hopes that the mention alone would bore her enough to shut her up.
“I dunno, Chloe, but we have to go in. My mum’s not having any excuses,” she moans.
“Yeah, okay. Listen, Kate, I have to go. I’ll see you at school in a bit?”
“You got it, byeee.” Kate drags on her goodbyes for the longest time. I don’t know why. It’s like the ‘e’ key got held down inside of her.
“Bye,” I say, and hang up.
In my lap, my phone bleeps and I pick it up quickly.
Will: What you up to today? xx
Me: Have to go to school -.- x
For the first time ever, I type a kiss in return. I hope he appreciates it.
Will: It’s bank holiday, you idiot! xx
Me: Tell that to my teachers xx
I imagine him sprawled across the rickety old bed in room number ten and laugh. He will be screwing up his face and crinkling his eyes at my message, then racking his brains for a witty reply.
Will: Fine, well if they’re going to ruin my plans for my last day of freedom, then I’ll at least get your number. Care to give it to me?
I give it to him, my heart beating faster. He plans to text me while I’m at school, doesn’t he? This is a whole new field of relationship for me. I know it’s only texting, but I’ve never had anyone to text in class before, other than Kate.
Will: Thanks ;) speak later, okay? Xx
Me: Okay xx
I will not compare those last messages to The Fault In Our Stars. I will not.
Signing off, I rush around to get ready in time for school, munching down a cookie and then scrubbing at my teeth with one hand while I brush my hair with the other. By some miracle, I get to Kate’s on time, and so ensues our usual power-walk from her house towards the school building.
I am in ICT, three hours later, when my phone buzzes in my pocket. Checking to see if Ms G’s back is turned, I slip it out and light up the screen.
1 new message from: unknown number.
Will. It has to be. Grinning, I change his contact name to ‘Oliver Smith.’
The message reads: I know where you live.
Me: Hey, Will ;) that's the oldest prank in the book- you are so predictable! xx
Will: Well, you can’t blame me for trying! And predicable? Nah xx
YOU ARE READING
Her List of Kisses
Teen FictionWhen she was thirteen, Chloe Golding wrote a list. On this list was every type of kiss she hoped to experience in her teenage years. They ranged from an innocent peck on the back of the hand, to passionate make-out sessions and kisses on the private...
