Tap tap tap.
That's the only sound in the room right now. My pencil tapping onto the stacked textbooks next to me. I'm tapping with my left while reading and annotating with my right. I almost feel proud of myself for using both hands at once, except I can't be proud when I have so much work left.
Tap tap tap.
Time inches by, each minute seeming more and more excruciatingly slow. But I haven't made in a progress. Not even a dent in everything I have to do. I should've worked more on it during lunch.
I stop tapping and touch my left hand down to my stomach, wincing where I hit the part that got cut. Some asshole wasn't gentle while we played basketball. Elbowed me right on the scars and I swear to god, I thought I was going to pass out from how bad it hurt.
Complaining again? You just said that you have a lot of work to do. My god, just do it.
I take my left hand off and go back to reading without the tapping. I get into a good rhythm for a solid ten minutes before it's interrupted by my phone buzzing. Curiosity makes me instinctively reach for the phone.
What are you doing?
Your phone?
Now?
You were barley getting work done. How could you take a break?
You don't even deserve that break!
Jesus.
I retract my hand from the phone. It can wait. It's probably someone who needs homework.
It buzzes again. Or maybe it can't. I pick up the phone and see it's an unknown number.
I read the message quickly. Mia. Reading her name brings a smile to my face and I tap out a reply.
Me: Hey
Me: How's it going
Her typing bubble comes up almost immediately and I decide it's better to just wait for her reply than to do work. I can finish it quickly...later.
Mia: It's going pretty okay I guess
Me: That's good...or okay?
Mia: Well okay is better than bad so good I guess..?
Me: Who knows
Mia: How's your day been?
Terrible. Horrible. I'm so behind on things. And I'm really sore all over.
Me: It's been good
Her typing bubble comes up and disappears. It does this a few times before I lock my phone. I don't know what could be taking her so long to say, but I might as well work while she figures it out.
Five minutes pass - at least that's what my phone tells me when her texts lights up the screen again.
Mia: Really?
Me: Yeah, why?
Mia: Idk you've seemed...a little distracted
Mia: Something on your mind?
Me: Nope
Me: Maybe I'm just tired
Mia: You sure?
Me: Positive
Mia: Mm...
Me: I'm fine
Mia: Isnt that the big red flag for when people are not okay?
Me: Maybe, but i swear I am
Change the subject. She's asking too many questions.
YOU ARE READING
Good Enough
Teen FictionGood enough... Is something Julian Ortega will never be. A disappointment, worthless, and useless to those around him, Julian has finally reached his breaking point. He has been falling towards the end for a while. But he might have just found someo...
