I sat tapping my pen on the table, again. English is the only word for how I was feeling right now. This feeling was common to me: a mix of boredom, the temptation to stop listening and sadness. Sadness because I didn't have my favourite English teacher I was stuck with a shitty one who liked the sound of their own voice, a little too much. I mean he takes talking at people to a whole new level, I was pretty sure no one was actually paying any attention whatsoever, who would with this teacher? It was my first English lesson and I suppose getting used to it was probably something I would do but this guy wasn't giving me a good first impression. At all. But the good thing was that I was in second set! Yay!
Another thing about year ten was that the two populations were mixed, so making new friends was probably going to happen. In fact, I sat next to a guy I had never met before, Tony. He had blonde hair, a big mouth but cute smile and looked like a real nice guy, although we hadn't had much of a conversation yet, just exchange of names. Tony leaned over, "Who do you think is paying attention?"
"In here? Lemme think." I put my index finger on my chin and pretended to think, "How bout no one?" Tony laughed quietly.
"I think you're right Gwen Oswin."
"Is that right Tony Stuart?"
He nodded sarcastically and I laughed quietly. I could tell I had made a new friend already; year ten wasn't going to be as bad as I thought.
--
I spoke waaaaaay too soon. Catching the bus was just what I remembered it being like, hella crazy. The new year sevens were acting like frickin' angels and I winked at my neighbour as I walked past. The back of the bus went quiet as I walked up and I looked for a spare seat. Oh you have got to be effing kidding me. The only spare seat down here was next to... Jasper, kill me now! He didn't notice me sit down and I tried so hard not to scream, so hard. "Gwen!" he yelled, surprised.
I turned to look at him neutrally, "Yes, Jasper, I'm sat here."
"I didn't realise,"
"Of course not."
"Ur, why are you sat here?"
I carried on looking at him, "Jasper. Stand up." He did as I asked and we both stood up. I gestured to the surrounding seats. "Do you see any other places to sit on this part of this bloody bus?"
"No, I, I suppose not." Came his response. I sat back down, against my own will. "Um, Gwen, I have something to ask you."
"It's not an invitation to some god damn party is it?" I joked, unconvincingly. He caught it though and laughed awkwardly.
"No, actually, I have two. About your book and last year."
"No and no."
"What?"
"Jasper, whatever you are trying to ask please don't."
"I'm going to. About the book."
"Jasper don't."
"What you wrote was really good, I read it, I really like it." My head swivelled round to look at him. His face was the picture of sincerity.
"O...k. I'm slightly confused. When did you start being nice to me?"
"Since I felt like I should apologise?"
"Apologise?"
"Yeah, that brings me to my second question."
"Jasper, you didn't even ask your first." He seemed really awkward, no wonder. The guy rubbed his neck and sat back in the chair. "Carry on." He looked straight into my eyes and I felt kind of... relieved? Yes relieved.
YOU ARE READING
Wishful Thinking
Fiction généraleGwen isn't your average year 10 student. With her new book Ripped Apart on the shelves she's been doing well, until now. A great opportunity has arisen and she has to decide what she wants to do. But the choice she makes affects her whole life, does...