Teenage Dirtbag

Ch. 5

The entire way home I fought myself to keep from grinning. Even when my mother asked how everything had gone I only answered her with a simple, "fine." On the inside though, I was on fire. No one had taken the time to ever even ask me my favorite song, let alone play and sing it with me. Or paid enough attention to know zombie movies were my favorite thing ever. Yet Marcel knew both of those things about me.

            As soon as the car was in park I threw off my seatbelt and ran inside, running up to my room and locking the door. Feeling my phone buzz in my pocket I pulled it out to see I had received a text from Marcel:

Make it home?

 

            Trying to suppress the girly squeal that threatened to escape I quickly replied:

Yeah, just made it in. Thanks again for having my over, I had a lot of fun.

 

            We stayed up until three a.m. talking before I told him I had to get some sleep or I'd be dead on my feet tomorrow. Reluctantly we said our goodnights and I quickly drifted off to sleep.

            The next morning I couldn't stop myself from smiling when I saw Marcel waiting for me outside of the school. He was back in one of his signature sweaters, I guess the plain t-shirt was too casual for school. I didn't respond when my mother told me to have a good day as I got out of the car, I simply shut the door and ran up the steps to see Marcel.

            "You look awfully cheery this morning," I said as I went up the last few steps and stood in front of him.

            "Why wouldn't I be," he asked, his dimples showing as he grinned.

            "Because you got like three hours of sleep," I answered, "no one should look so good and happy after such a short amount of sleep."

            I smiled to myself as he blushed, then he mumbled something about getting to class on time and I followed him inside. "Our schedules are switched today, we still have to go to Mr. Timmons class first, but now we've got gym class in half an hour," he told me as we walked.

            I scrunched up my face as I opened my locker and pulled out my backpack, "why, I hate gym."

            "Testing for the Freshman I think," he answered.

            "Gross," I replied as we made our way towards our shortened math class, our shoulders bumping occasionally as we walked.

            "Good morning class," Mr. Timmons said as we all sat down, "as I'm sure you're all aware, schedules are a mess today and you'll only be here for thirty minutes. There isn't much I can teach you in that time, so just talk quietly amongst yourselves."

            I began doodling on a piece of paper and Marcel turned in his seat, "do you know what you want to see this weekend?"