Some Day

23: Lunch Date

Chapter Twenty Three

Because of President's Day, there was no school on Monday or Tuesday.

Matt and I spent the entirety of Sunday and Monday watching The Office, and also arguing about who the best character is. Tuesday, however, he had to go to work, so I had the house to myself.

I did homework for hours, and felt very stressed out. I just honestly don't see the point in trying in school anymore. After I graduate, I'm taking the next year off. And after that, I have no idea, but university is unlikely. If I were to continue school, I'd probably go to community college. All that being said, getting good grades doesn't sound necessary.

But still, I do my homework anyways, and I still try. I'm just so used to getting straight A's and being a good student, that just thinking about failing a class gives me anxiety. Currently, I'm not getting straight A's, but I don't have anything lower than a C, so I don't feel too terrible about it.

Right now, it's Wednesday morning, and Matt and I are eating breakfast.

"Annie and I are going out tonight," he tells me, grinning.

"That's exciting," I comment. "What are you guys doing?"

"We're going to a movie," he replies.

"Cute," I coo. "So what's she like?"

"Well," he sighs. "She's in med school. So she's busy all the time. But she's really independent and funny and cool and...pretend I didn't say all that."

He looks at the ground, and my eyes widen when I notice the red on his cheeks. "Matt," I say. "You really like this girl, don't you?"

"Only a little bit," he claims. "Don't make a big deal about it."

"Aw, this is so cute!" I reply. "You're showing emotions!"

"I'm not a robot," he complains.

"You're telling me," I retort. "Robots are a lot smarter."

"Why do you always insult me?" He questions. "I am so kind to you, all the time. Twenty four seven, that's how much of the time I'm nice to you."

I narrow my eyes at him. "You're never nice to me!"

"Name one time when I was mean to you," he tells me. "I bet you can't."

"Ten minutes ago. When I walked in here and grabbed the cereal and you called me a fat ass," I reply. "Or ten minutes before that, when you came into my room to make sure I was awake, and you saw me brushing my hair and you said I looked like Medusa. Or-"

"Okay, so maybe I'm not always that nice to you," he interrupts. "But most of the time—a large majority of the time, I am the best."

I roll my eyes. "Just go to work already."

"Fine," he huffs, standing up, his chair screeching against the floor. "I guess I'm not welcome here anymore."

"Bye!" I call as he walks out of the kitchen, and then leaves the house.

I quickly eat the rest of my food, and then go back upstairs and finish getting ready. After changing into leggings and a sweatshirt, I slip into some tennis shoes and then leave the house.

The drive to school takes a little less time than usual, and by the time I walk into the literature classroom, there's still ten minutes before school starts, and Kayla isn't in her seat yet.

I sit down in my chair, looking at my phone when I hear it buzz.

It's a text from James: "Are you doing anything for lunch today?"