Vivacity

I woke up to ten text messages, all from Aubrey. They were all related to the date, and mostly just asked how it went and why wasn’t I calling her. With a sigh, I quickly tapped a short reply before untangling myself from the blankets on my bed.

I looked in my full-length mirror and groaned. I looked worse than terrible; eyeliner and mascara was smeared around my eyes and smudged a bit on the top of my cheeks and my hair was sticky from sweat and sticking up in places.

My phone beeped just as I was stepping out of my pajama pants. I nearly tripped over them trying to get to the small device, but when I made it without harming myself, I tapped the READ button.

I’ll be there to pick you up at 7:30. Get ready to dish the details. xo, A.

I threw the cellular phone back on my bed and took my time picking out an outfit. I wasn’t going to worry about my hair that much because I’m pretty sure it’s beyond help right now, but I was going to at least have a decent outfit for the first day.

Fifteen minutes later, I was dressed in skinny jeans, a gray tank top, and a white, cropped shirt with salmon-colored stripes. I had pulled my hair back in a ponytail and wore just barely enough make-up to make it look natural.

I was eating an apple when Brent texted me.

Hey, hang out with me today.

Something about this message irritated me. It could’ve been the fact that he hadn’t apologized for getting high on our first date, or maybe because he hadn’t asked if I would hang out with him.

I have school today, Brent. –SF

I wondered briefly if he could pick up on my irritation, but I pressed SEND anyways. His reply was instant.

Skip it.

Even after I started hanging out with Aubrey and Liz, I had never skipped school. Not when they asked me to, and not when I had a hangover. My mother had always expected me to do my best, and I always felt like I was letting her down each time I held a blunt between my fingers. The least, I thought, I could do was have perfect attendance and good grades. I told Brent no, and he stopped texting.

For the next ten minutes, I stared out the front window. I watched as elementary school kids walked to school, holding hands with younger or older siblings. I also watched as Josh got in his Lancer and drove off in the direction of the high school. He looked so beautiful, my heart hurt. When we were kids, it was just a childish, school girl crush. But, even though he moved away for three years, it had grown into complete infatuation.

I sighed into my hands, trying not to think at all. Sometimes that was best.

The sound of Aubrey honking the horn of her vehicle wrecked that idea, forcing me to stand up, grab my bag, and lock the door behind me. As soon as my butt was on the leather passenger’s seat, she attacked.

“What the hell happened last night? You were supposed to call,” she said. Her foot pressed on the gas before I even had my seatbelt on, and I looked at her.

“I was tired, so I went to sleep,” I replied simply. Actually, I was exhausted and I had felt a bit humiliated, but I wasn’t going to let her know that.

She turned her face towards me, forcing me to yell to keep her eyes on the road. “Sarah, Brent got back at, like, seven. Are you telling me you went to sleep at about six-forty-five and didn’t wake up until seven this morning?”

I shifted in my seat, “Well, no. I took a shower first. And how do you know when Brent got back?”

“I was at Liz’s place all night after I left your’s. He walked in when we were baking cookies,” she said coolly.

We talked until we picked up Liz, at which point I gladly allowed the two to take over the conversation. I leaned onto the window, breathing slowly.

---

I sat down in the furthest desk away from the teacher’s, laying my bag across the wooden surface and pulling my phone out. Brent hadn’t texted back.

I crossed my legs underneath the desk, watching as people I’ve known for years walked in. They were all chatting so happily, telling others what happened on their last day of summer. My shoulders relaxed considerably when I saw Liz walk in, staring down at her schedule; she hadn’t made it to registration day to get it then.

“Liz!” I said, raising my voice only slightly. She looked up and I saw her relax, too. A smile spread across her face and she made her way through the people and desks, sitting next to me in the back row.

“Thank, God,” she sighed. “I was freaking out because I thought all of you were older than me.”

I smiled, “I thought the same thing. Hand me your schedule.”

She did, staring intently at the door. I looked down at the white paper, my smile widening; she had four out of seven classes with me.

Liz sucked in a breath, “Sarah, isn’t that Josh? I thought he moved in the sixth grade.”

I looked up and, sure enough, there was Josh Gardener, staring right back at me. A slow smirk was forming on his lips, his head nodding in greeting.