traveling | shawn mendes

sixteen

two weeks later-

today was the last day of school before spring break.

normally i would be all excited, but when i woke up this morning, i got a feeling today wasn't going to be a good day.

now that i have that feeling, i know it's going to impact my day.

and not in a good way.

but, i still had to get ready and go to school.

i didn't really care about how i looked today, so i just grabbed whatever was in front of me that was clean.

i changed into a black top, ripped baggy jeans, checkered vans, and rings. i wasn't in the mood to do my makeup, so i just put on big sunglasses and for hair, i just left the waves i did from yesterday. [outfit below]

since i got ready so fast, i actually had time for breakfast.

while i drank my coffee and ate my bagel, i went on my phone to pass the time.

i went through my messages and saw shawn hadn't responded to the last few messages i sent him. but, i didn't think anything of it.

maybe he's busy.

after putting that off, i went on twitter.

the first tweets on my timeline were shawn's.

i guess he's not busy.

whatever.

my thoughts were then interrupted by jocelin texting me saying she was here.

i quickly got my backpack and ran out the door.

i got in the car and somewhat slammed the door.

"damn bitch, who put salt instead of sugar in your coffee this morning?" jocelin said as she turned to look at me, "nice glasses by the way,"

"no one," i said while rolling my eyes, "can you just drive?"

"sure," she said, "but you're telling me why bitchy cassie is out and ready to play,"

i rolled my eyes again even though she couldn't see because if my sunglasses, "whatever,"

during the drive i told her how i was feeling. and how i didn't know why.

i kept the explanation brief because i really didn't want to open up the can of emotions this early in the morning.

i really didn't want to deal with any of this.

arriving at school-

right as jocelin and i walked through the door of our first period, our teacher called me over.

"what's up mr. martinez?" i asked.

he handed me a piece of paper, "your counselor wants to talk to you,"