I Think I Love You

Chapter 1: Mia

Chapter 1: Mia

September 15th, 2018

"Bam!" I turn my head to see where the noise was coming from. Of course, it was the sound of senior jocks shoving minor-niners into lockers followed by the booming laughs ringing through. Just boys being boys. I bring my hair up into a bun using my mirror and touch up on my mascara before readjusting my glasses. I watch from my locker as the senior boys huddle front and center in locker bay. I've never understood the appeal of the hunky quarterback. I guess you could say I've always been into the silent, quirky, nerdy guys. On cue, I hear John asking Jeremey about his latest hookup, "Broooooo, who was that chick you hooked up with over the weekend? She was super hot! Tell me you guys smashed." Jeremy doesn't even have to say a word, for them to know. Like apes they all chant and holler, cheering him on. I continue to watch in disgust as they smack each other and jump around in excitement. Across from them, the cheerleaders are gathered in their own squad shooting them dirty looks. The jocks completely ignore them and continue on, clearly not giving a shit. I overhear the cheerleaders consoling Alexis, who is still claiming he's the "one". I hate to break it to her but if he does the same thing every weekend he probably isn't her soulmate. And I mean this happens every weekend.

I guess you could say this is just your typical Monday morning at Forest Glade High. Living in a small town for almost 8 years, you learn the patterns of other people, almost as well as your own. You can almost predict what someone will do or even say. In fact, people get so accustomed, change isn't even an option. It's probably why no one ever leaves town, but if they do, they always end up coming back. Speaking of, I see Mrs. Walker start to make her way through the halls. "We need to start getting a move on people! Homeroom starts in 5 minutes!". Talk of the town was that she moved to New York to pursue her dream of becoming a playwright. After five years of chasing the dream and going broke -but we don't bring that up- she decided to move back to take up teaching in her hometown at her old high school. I weave out of her sight, as I still have to study for her English test later today. I take the stairs up to the second floor, heading towards the library for my spare first period. Meanwhile, people swarm to get their stuff and book it to homeroom before class begins. I stop to try and find a narrow opening to wedge myself in-between groups, until I finally decide to just push myself through. I go through contortions as I squeeze between bodies, and apologize for invading people's personal space. Four years at this school and I still can't seem to get through the halls without awkwardly walking between people having conversations, interrupting group hugs, and constantly apologizing. I just have to get to the library and start studying asap if I want to make it through next semester.

I've been slacking in this English class and I can't have Mrs. Walker on my back nagging me to "fulfill my potential" in preparation for college- I already have my parents for that. I check my phone to see that I have about 45 minutes to cram Macbeth into my head before the test. I know I probably should've studied the night before or heck even the week before, but I was putting the finishing touches on my application for a Fine Arts Internship...even though I may never get to go. But it's my one shot to work with other artists and to be mentored by the best of the best in New York City. If they like your work, there's even a chance to get it displayed at the freaking MET! How awesome would that be? It's only for two months but I already know dad would never approve. He didn't even let me go to art camp two towns over back in sixth grade. He's always been hesitant about me leaving home, ever since mom left. I don't remember much of her since she left when I was four. Dad doesn't talk about it too much, and I see that it pains him to speak of her. At least I have Abuela on my side. In fact, she's the only one I've actually told. Even Mac doesn't know about it. And I tell him everything. Just not this, but eventually.

I first met Mac when I moved into the neighborhood. We were 9 years old, and quickly became each other's best friend. It was always easy with him so it wasn't hard to say yes when he asked me to be his girlfriend back in freshman year. I think he was scared to lose me, but I wasn't going anywhere. Although we live in the same neighborhood, we never actually went to the same school. He goes to East River Private Institute which is our rival high school. This makes football games really interesting since we always end up cheering for different teams. Despite going to different schools, I like having our own two worlds. It's what works for us. It always has.