Anthems for a Seventeen-Year-Old Girl

The moment that I wake up, I can sense that I've missed something. One look at the clock on the side table next to the couch tells me that I have missed first and second period at school. Normally, a trail of obscenities would have left my lips the moment I saw the time; now, however, I feel too peaceful, too satisfied with finally sleeping after hunting slumber for so long. I stretch my arms out and sit up on the sofa with a yawn.

I'm attempting to count the number of hours that I was sleeping, finding it strange that my mother didn't wake me up so that I wouldn't be late to school. Maybe she didn't see that I was still on the couch. Maybe she did, but wanted me to sleep.

I haven't told her about my insomnia, but she's intuitive that way. Sometimes, she just knows.

I know that I probably shouldn't bother showering or doing my hair or putting on makeup (they'll just make me later than I already am), but I haven't felt this good in a long time. The steam in the shower clears all of my senses, bringing my mood even higher than it already was. I take the time to put product in my hair so that my curls are more defined, rather than a mess on my head. My makeup is perfect and precise before I leave to start walking to school.

I have my license, but I don't have a car, so I always walk to and from school. I don't mind, even when it's raining. I like walking, and the rain makes me feel refreshed. It's not raining today, though. It's one of those fresh, overcast days with the gray clouds hanging in the sky, making the atmosphere frigid and bright.

These days are my favorite.

It's lunch time when I finally reach the front doors to my school. My stomach growls, reminding me that I haven't eaten anything since yesterday afternoon. Instead of going to the cafeteria to get food, I go to the classroom for my next class, English 101, early.

The classroom isn't empty.

He's there. The Vonnegut boy.

"Oh. I. Um," I manage to stammer, looking down at my feet, "I didn't realize anyone was in here." He sets his book aside - I strain to see the title from my position, but it isn't possible - and looks up at me with a smile.

"It's kind of early to be in class, don't you think?" he observes, mischief in his grin as he watches me struggle under his gaze.

"You should talk," I snapped back at him, folding my arms across my chest and finally managing to make eye contact with him. His eyes are dark, nearly ebony, and have that piercing quality; it gives the impression that he's looking directly into my soul, and it's almost too much to bear.

"Do you always spend lunch in here?" I ask him.

"When I come to school, I do."

I'm not sure what that means. Maybe he skips school a lot. He doesn't seem like the typical slacker, though, because he reads and he seems to value intelligence. I don't know anything about him, but I'm excellent at making observations.

"I'm Casper," he introduces himself. I attempt to hold back my laughter at his name, but a smile works its way onto my face.

"Like the ghost?" I wonder. He returns my silly grin with a smile of his own.

"Like the ghost."

"I'm Holiday," I tell him, watching as the smile on his face grows bigger, "But people call me Holly."

"I think I'll call you Holiday," he says, slipping his hands behind his head casually, "What kind of name is that anyway?"

"My mom likes Christmas," I reply, one eyebrow raised, "A lot."

"Who doesn't?" he shrugs a little, pulling off the I-could-care-less attitude perfectly. Pulling off everything perfectly. Why he's talking to me, I'm not sure, but I do nothing but encourage it.

The bell rings signaling the end of lunch, so Casper quickly gathers his belongings and gets up from the desk to leave the room. His arms brushes mine as he passes by, sending shivers down my body; his mouth hovers near my ear for a second so that he can leave me with some of his words as a parting gift.

"I'll see you around, Holiday." His breath tickles my ear, but it also ellicits a smile from my face.

The rest of my classmates file in soon, ruining my moment as I feel suspended in time. They push past me, but I don't notice as I finally move to take my seat. My teacher begins to take role and talk about our newest assignment.

All I can think of is his smile.