Hex

Chapter 3

     "Ugggghhhh," I groaned, frustratedly walking into the apartment a few days later. Zane and Finn were playing pool in the kitchen. Finn was bent over, concentrating all his attention on aiming the white ball towards a striped ball. His shoulder length hair fell in front of the left side of his face, but he ignored it and squinted his brown eyes at the ball.

     Zane was watching him, slouched over and leaning his cheek on the cue. He looked a little worried, almost like he was holding his breath.

     Bishop sat at the counter on his laptop, headphones in and motivation on. The leg closest to me bounced in his black jeans, and he chewed his bottom lip softly.

     Danny was on the couch, doing something that resembled math homework, though it looked like he was more focused on his phone than the trigonometry worksheet.

     Upon my outburst, Zane and Bishop glanced at me momentarily, before resuming their previous activities, and the other two didn't even look over. Not receiving the recognition that I was craving, I repeated the noise, this time longer and louder. Again, nothing.

     I rolled my eyes and flopped onto the couch on my back, throwing my arms over my head and stretching out my legs. I cleared my throat, preparing to exaggeratedly groan again, when Danny finally acknowledged me. "Will someone ask her what's wrong already? I'm trying to focus here." Okay, well, sort of acknowledged me. Acknowledged my noise, at least.

     Bishop sighed, took one headphone out, and looked over at me. "Is something the matter?" He asked, acting like it was painful to do so.

     "Glad you asked!" I said, instantly brightening up, leaping from the couch, and crossing the room to him. I sat in the bar stool next to him. "So, I spent the day looking for jobs. I applied to two places, and one of them had me do the interview right then and there!"

     Zane took in a sharp breath. "No!" He stretched out, throwing his head back in defeat.

     "I know right!" I said, turning to him, glad someone was agreeing with the outrageousness of the introduction to my story.

     "No, not your stupid story, Finn just beat me. Again! That's the third time in a row."

     "Oh, whatever." I shook my head, as if to shake him off, before launching back into my soliloquy. "Anyways, I was completely unprepared, and I bombed it! I know I did. It went so bad, I'm such an awkward person. Ugh, why am I like this?" I sighed, out of breath after rushing out that spew of words in one single intake, and spun around in a circle on the stool dramatically.

     I finished my rotation and faced the boy at the computer and not-so-patiently awaited a sympathetic response. Dizzily, I leaned towards him, placing my hands on his knees, which were pointed towards me. He watched me, with an amused smirk on his face. I raised an eyebrow and made a hand motion, as if to say 'out with it.'

     "You'll get 'em next time kid," he said, finally, before putting his headphone back in and returning to his screen, successfully zoning me out once more. He turned to face forwards again, making my hands drop from his legs, my body launching forwards.

     I sighed deeply and fell off of the bar stool to my feet, done with their underwhelming responses to my crisis. I went to my room and shut the door, before taking out my notebook.

     I had had the black composition notebook since fourth grade. My Aunt Talia got it for me for my birthday. There was a large, white musical note on the cover. I still remember my mother's face, when she saw me unwrap it.

     "It's for you to write your songs in," Aunt Talia had said, bumping her shoulder with mine, as we sat on the couch next to each other. The rest of my family was spread out around the living room, watching me open presents.