Newsies One Shots and Preferences

Lost and Found

Word Count: 1130

No matter the logic behind it, no one can tell me that time does not slow down just for Chemistry. It seems like the teacher can ramble forever when in reality only a couple of minutes have passed. People say that when you stare at the clock time goes by slower but it goes by just as slow no matter where I look. I peel my eyes away from the clock to copy down the new notes the teacher has written on the board. However, my attention quickly shifts away to turn myself around. People say you can feel when someone is staring at you but when I turn around I only see a boy scribbling something in his notebook. 

Jack Kelly is in a lot of my classes and I can always rely on him for subpar notes when I am absent. I usually settle for them because that way I get most of my notes from one person. Other than our occasional trading of notes we never interact, he is just another face in the school of faceless people. To me at least.  You can usually find me at school funded events working the concession stand or running the school store- classic College application activities. Jack, on the other hand, is often at school funded events but in the stands or is only at the school store to buy supplies. Two completely different worlds.

Eventually, I bring myself to look back at the analog clock to see that only three minutes have passed. People say time cannot slow down, tell that to the time paradox that is Chemistry class. After the alleged forty minutes have passed the bell rings throughout the school allowing the class to have an audible sigh of relief. 

The rest of the school day goes by not affected by the time paradox and eventually the final bell rings letting a slew of my fellow classmates out for the weekend. However, most of them will be back for the home game tonight. Let's make one thing clear, our football team is not good, nor does our school have an excess of school spirit, it is just something to do in our small town. Unfortunately for me, that means working the concession stand, more importantly, that means I do not leave the school. Technically I have two hours of downtime before I have to start setting up the concession stand I would rather spend the two hours locked in a classroom finishing my school work and snaking than going home. At least here I get the full two hours alone, and uninterrupted, but if I were to go home I would only have about an hour and a half and that time would probably be full of distractions. From rowdy siblings to need to fix the sink, or making dinner, it is just easier to do my work here. 

I am sitting in the side room off the principles office, which is often used as a waiting room for students who have been sent down to see Doctor Cavanough. Most people are terrified of him, but once you get to know him, he is not that bad, we are even on dropping the title terms! I can just call him Cavanough, a right reserved for me and a handful of other people. Another benefit of our relationship is that he lets me do my work in his side room. Most of the time he will not bother me, but that is not today. Cavanough comes in with his suit jacket not fully on and visible beads of sweat as if he has just finished a marathon. He always stresses sweats on home game days, not only is he responsible for Jeffersons Public High School, but he is also responsible for whomever the visiting team is. I always try to take off whatever stress I can as he should retire but he will probably die in his position. My task today is to go through the lost and found bin. I do not even know what that means, other than to look through some hoodies to make sure there are not any drugs. 

I take my time going across the school so I can go through the bins, we keep the lost and found in the back room at the library. It is a small room that makes the most desperate people decide that their stuff is not worth spending more than a few minutes in there. However, I will be spending an undisclosed amount of time in this room, and needless to say, I am not looking forward to it. That being said I did not waste any time getting started either, my hands were practically already in a hoodie since the moment I walked in. After I sifted through the first bin I decided to look into the miscellaneous bin. The bin most known for holding the biggest mystery of the school, for instance, how someone only lost one shoe, or when was it acceptable for someone to bring in knock-off fine china, and somethings that I am almost certain are trash. An open bag of Uncle Ben's rice has lined the bottom of the bin. 

At some point, I move a skateboard that someone had lost to see a notebook. A familiar notebook, but it is not mine. However, it is something I have definitely seen before, letting my curiosity take over me I open the book to the first page to see the initials JK. The realization hits me eventually as I notice the handwriting I have to decipher every time I miss a day of school. This notebook belongs to nobody else but Jack Kelly. Not wanting to get back to sifting through hoodies right away I begin to page through his notes. Often seeing little doodles on the side of his page that keep me entertained. I know I should not be going through his notebook but I cannot seem to stop myself once I have started. Eventually, I get to a page that contains no notes but instead is a portrait, the face does not look like him at all. He could not of come up with this person on his own, it is definitely a real-life person and I am determined to find out who.  

I stare at the well-drawn image until I notice a birthmark just under the person's nose. My hand immediately goes up to touch my own identical birthmark. Everything hits at once, the person is me. I turn the page again to see tons of fake dialogue of him asking someone out. It does not take much to put two and two together, he has a crush on me. My brain immediately does that thing where when anyone shows me any sort of attention I think I am in love with them. Although I am not completely sure about who Jack Kelly is as a person I am not opposed to getting to know him. 

I grab a pen from the lost and found bin and write my number on the next blank page of his notebook. 

You're a really good artist, 555-555-5555 - Y/N Y/L/N

It is not long after I returned his notebook that I get a text message from an unknown number.

Art is easy when you have a good subject - JK