Snapped Guitar Strings and Broken Hearts

He would never notice me.
I’m just a freshman. A ninth grader. What could that mean to him? Nothing. But, he was everything. Beautiful, flawless.
I could have stayed in this position forever. Knees pulled up to my chest, only a yard away from him.
Beep…. Beep…. Beep….
“My God…” I groaned, banging on the alarm clock that was next to my bed. “ Another dream…”
The mumble was barely loud enough to reach my own ears. I managed to untangle myself from the white sheets and get to my feet without an injury.
“ Oh, boy…” I growled to nobody in particular, “ another wonderful day to be alive.” The sarcasm thrived in my voice.
The window was closed, but I could see clearly outside. The sun had barely gotten over the rim of the horizon. There was a faint pinkish hint to the dark indigo which was the sky over my hometown of George. George, Washington. What a stupid name. I think people have too much time on their hands
Shuddering lightly from the ever-cold temperature of my room, I stepped into the hallway. I turned to the right and into the small bathroom that I shared with my dad—who was probably at work.
The scathingly hot water made me jump when I was in the shower. Normally I took cold showers to wake me up, but this would do for now.

“ Crap, crap, crap!”
I yelled to nobody, running up the stairs, taking them two at a time. I burst into my room, almost knocking over the overly-graffiti, black, electric guitar that sat in the corner of my room. The desk was in the opposite corner and I struggled across the floor covered in papers to grab my essay about influenza. Once grabbing it, I headed back down the stairs and out of the front door, grabbing my house key.
Brushing a lock of raven black hair from my unnaturally pale face, I sprinted to the bus stop, skidding into a friend.
“ Hey Gwin, how are ya?” A familiar voice asked when I climbed onto the bus in the seat next to him.
“ Not so well, Robby, you?” I shook my head, massaging my temple with one hand while the other held my ear buds to my ear.
“ Pretty good. The Fall Ball is coming up, you asked anybody? Been asked?” His vibrant green eyes lit up, hopeful.
“ No, Rob,” I groaned, trying to concentrate on Gerard’s voice in my ear. “ And I’m not going with you.”
He sighed and let his mottled brown and black hair fall into his face. I hated to see him so sad…
“ Darn…” He muttered.
Then he started to grin madly. Oh, God, this boy drives me nuts some days.
“ You wanna go with Brent, don’t you, Gwinny?” He teased, poking me in the side.
“ Nooo…I don’t.” I sighed angrily and banged my head on the backseat.
“ Yes, you do!”
“ Fine.”
“ I win!” He announced, grinning from ear to ear. I don’t understand how he is always so enthusiastic…

The bus stopped and I scrambled out of my seat, pushing past tiny middle schoolers.
Once reaching the entrance to our small high school, I shouldered my tan messenger bag and pocketed the iPod.
See, the high school only has 279 students. The middle school has 145. This is not a large town. Most of us grew up together, or we’ve known each other for a couple of years. In my case, I moved in last spring. I’m an outcast. So, my only friend would be Robby.
I have most of my classes with Rob, which is cool. Also, with Brent, which isn’t. This puts me in a difficult situation. I have Rob on one side, teasing my about how much I love Brent and then I have Brent, two or three seats away, who could possibly be hearing this.
I hurried to my first class—algebra—with Rob at my side. What a stalker.
Why was I hurrying? I don’t know. I hate math. I stink at math, which puts me in the lowest class—go figure. There was Rob, in the seat next to me, poking my arm non-stop for the whole 45 minutes of class—so weird.
Apparently he wanted to get my attention, since once we were in the hall he started to talk really fast. I couldn’t understand what he was saying.
“ ROBBY!”
“ Whaaaaaat?” He whined, slapping me once for reasons I had no clue of.
“ You’re talking to fricking fast for my mind to comprehend, now slow down.” I exaggerated the word slow.
“ You’re talking too advanced I can’t understand.” He stomped his foot—what a child.
“ Slow down your mouth, dude.”
“ Well, why didn’t you say so?!”
“ I DID.” I turned away from him as the warning bell rang. Two minutes till English started.
“ Oh.” He turned down the hall towards biology while I sprinted down in the opposite direction.
Well, I learned nothing from the genius, Robby that day in between 1st and 2nd period. And, it was my loss.