Trigonometry should not exist. I repeated to myself over and over again before checking the clock. Only 15 more minutes until study hall, fucking finally. 80 minutes of trig was starting to take a toll on my mental heath. And that’s when I thought of Saturday again.
Logan.
Ugh! I tried to tell myself to stop obsessing over the whole thing all week, and today I was giving up. It was Thursday and I hadn’t talked to Logan since he left my house, but I had seen him. And I tried not to make eye contact with him, or notice when he talked to Rose before class, or joked with Collin at lunch.
But I had failed. The bell rang overhead and sprinted to my locker.
“Hey, Rose,” I said, “Where are you going for study hall?”
“My math teacher, thank God only one more period’s left! I got no sleep last night,” she said opening her locker, and checking her hair in the mirror. I love Rose, but the outfit she had on today made me want to gag. Her see through white shirt clung to her, and her black bra. I remember when everyone started to do dumb shit like that. Freshman year had been a confusing time, everyone started to show a lot of skin and paint their face. I guess I just never grew into it, it didn’t suite me.
“I’m in the library,” I grabbed my personal notebook and a book before slamming my royal blue locker, “See you later,” I said shortly, walking away.
The library was my favorite place to go for study hall; it was quiet, but not silent. And all of the nooks provided by the shelves of books, computer stations, and group of tables made it comfortable. I took my usual seat by the window in the corner, and looked out onto the parking lot.
Our school was normal sized, there were about a thousand kids, we were in the middle of white class suburbia, the suburbs of Concord, Connecticut. From here I could see the football field, the hill with the baseball diamond, and another field for everything else. I liked my school, not really the people, but the school. Our surplus of funds led to big homecoming events, and a ton of extracurricular activities and clubs.
I settled into my seat and picked up my book, unaware of someone behind me.
A strong pair of hands squeezed by shoulders, and I gasped. Logan sat down beside me laughing, “Very alert today I see Ivy.”
“Fuck you,” I said pushing his shoulder, smiling a little.
“What’s this?” He asked pointing to the papers peaking out of my notebook. “Some more lists?”
SHIT! “Nothing,” I scrabbled to put them away but they were already in his hands. I wanted to curl up and die right there.
Despite my wide-eyed fear, Logan looked up from the lists and smiled at me, “How touching they’re about me.”
I put my head in my hands before he continued, “Let’s see,” he said ignoring my embarrassment, “shall we start with, Things I Know About Logan Richfield, Things I Like About Logan Richfield, or, my personal favorite Things I Don’t Like About Logan Richfield?”
I groaned, I could just see him telling Collin and Dylan as soon as study hall was over. Well at least he hadn’t found my lists about them.
“What was that? Things I Don’t Like About Logan? Ok as you wish,” He grinned.
“I hope you’re enjoying yourself,” I said barley managing to look at him.
YOU ARE READING
Lonely Hearts Club
Ficțiune adolescențiA 16 year olds life can be pretty complicated these days, with drugs, alcohol, school, friends, and everything in between and Ivy Fitzpatrick would know all about that. But what happens when a person is starved of love and affection? What happens wh...
