Status: Trying to put out chapters as often as possible
Our Wasted Youth
Prelude
Oh shit. Did he just look over here? I slowly raised my head to glance around the room. My eyes came to rest on the back of a black Blink-182 sweatshirt, slumped against a desk one over and up from mine. He looked as though he hadn’t moved in a while. Study hall was great for a lot of things; for me, it was a time to catch up on homework. For others, it was nap time. And currently, it seemed as though the object of my affection was sleeping. I went back to my notebook to finish the sentence I was writing. Alex grabbed her hand and whispered, "Come away with me…."- ugh that's as far as I could get. I gently tapped my pencil against my book to the tune of my newest favorite song. I heard someone shift, and looked up to see the sweatshirt move.
The hood that was obscuring his face fell away as he turned his head to the side. He opened his eyes, glancing towards where I was sitting. Alex smiled and lifted his hand to give me a little wave. I returned the smile and went back to my writing. Alex and I had recently met on my first day of my sophomore year. We had lockers right next to each other, I would compliment him on his cool band t-shirts, and he told me he liked my collection of ticket stubs I had stuck in my locker. I wouldn't call us friends exactly, but he was really cool.
When we would stand at our lockers after school, I would ask him about the bands he listened too. I thought it was really cool that he actually knew who Yellowcard was, and he nearly freaked when he found out I had seen Blink-182 live. What could I say? I had a cool uncle who loved bringing me along to concerts. Alex was easy to talk to, something that I appreciated quite a bit.
After speaking with him those few times, I had decided that he would be receiving a guest appearance in one of these stupid short stories I was working on. That honor was usually reserved only for my best friends, but something about him made him feel like a good character fit. Not to mention my number of best friends was severely lacking these days. Besides, every good story needed that I-seem-like-a-huge-douche-but-I-am-actually-pretty-nice guy. Not that anyone would actually ever see this. After all, who wanted to read something written by a nobody?
The hood that was obscuring his face fell away as he turned his head to the side. He opened his eyes, glancing towards where I was sitting. Alex smiled and lifted his hand to give me a little wave. I returned the smile and went back to my writing. Alex and I had recently met on my first day of my sophomore year. We had lockers right next to each other, I would compliment him on his cool band t-shirts, and he told me he liked my collection of ticket stubs I had stuck in my locker. I wouldn't call us friends exactly, but he was really cool.
When we would stand at our lockers after school, I would ask him about the bands he listened too. I thought it was really cool that he actually knew who Yellowcard was, and he nearly freaked when he found out I had seen Blink-182 live. What could I say? I had a cool uncle who loved bringing me along to concerts. Alex was easy to talk to, something that I appreciated quite a bit.
After speaking with him those few times, I had decided that he would be receiving a guest appearance in one of these stupid short stories I was working on. That honor was usually reserved only for my best friends, but something about him made him feel like a good character fit. Not to mention my number of best friends was severely lacking these days. Besides, every good story needed that I-seem-like-a-huge-douche-but-I-am-actually-pretty-nice guy. Not that anyone would actually ever see this. After all, who wanted to read something written by a nobody?
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Edited: 8/12/2014