Friday, I'm In Love

Saturday
No one looks forward to Saturday’s like you do. Personally, I enjoy Friday’s better, because Saturday’s are always gone in a blink of an eye and Sunday’s are wasted in church, which, I do not see why I should even attend anymore… I don’t like church, and technically, I’m old enough to know whether or not I want to go to church or not. You always attend church. You never forget your prayer book. You always turn up, well dressed and raring for two hours of soul destroying, monotonous preaching. You can’t honestly say you enjoy it? Maybe that’s why you enjoy Saturdays so much. That small amount of time between Friday and church of complete freedom.

You practically shake with excitement on Saturday morning at breakfast, no one else notices, but I do. You just can’t wait to spend the whole day with your friends by the river, lapping up the sun and lying in the grass, musing life, listening to music loud. You can’t wait to live.

This school is practically a prison and you’ve said it before, I’ve heard, “This place ought to have bars on the windows,” you would joke along with that boy who looks slightly like an owl because his glasses are so round and owl like. Did you know I’m scared to death of owls? That boy gives me the creeps. I half expect him to twist his head around the whole way and see me following you, like a real owl, but he never does. No one ever does.

I suppose you’re wondering why I like Fridays so much? Well, it’s simple really. There is this one period that I have free and it just so happens to be in align with your free period. True, I still haven’t worked up the courage to go and talk to you, at the one time where you’re not surrounded by a posse of adoring fans and squealing girls who want your babies. The one time when you’re sitting there, glasses askew, completely indulged in your latest novel that you hide from the boys in your dorm. If they knew you read books then people would think less of you. If they knew what you read it would be worse. You’ve read all the classics, all the horrors, I even saw you reading P.S I love you once. You’d get your ass kicked if the guys saw you shed that silent tear when Holly finds out about the notes Gerry writes before he dies… You wouldn’t be cool anyway, and I know that’s what you want. That’s all that gets you through the days at this school.

Yesterday was the same, you finished your book and I watched from afar. I know I should probably spend my time doing something productive but you’re just so adorable, sometimes I can’t even manage to look away. The way your mousy brown hair falls over your eyes as you read; how you bite your lip when you read; how your hazel eyes shine when light hits them; how your pale skin seems to emit its own glow. You’re beautiful; I bet none of the other girls have ever told you that.

Did you know I tell my mom about you after church on Sunday? Yeah, I talk for hours about you, and I think she approves, well she hasn’t said she approves, but I just know she does. I think she likes me being happy, and when I talk about you I’m happier than I’ve ever been. I tell myself that, maybe on Monday, or even Tuesday, you’ll finally notice me in one of your classes, well you haven’t yet, but I know you will!

I’ve always wanted to be in one of those fairytales. Every single ending is always happy, and I think you could be my ticket, I think you could be my happy ending. And, I know I’m just a girl who has a pretty wide imagination, but I believe in us, and one day you will too.

When I came down to breakfast this morning, I noticed you were one of the first ones in your group already sitting at your table. You’re always early; you get there before everyone else as if you’re afraid the food will run out. It’s a boarding school. The food’s not gonna run out. When I walk past your table I have the familiar urge to sit down next to you; introduce myself “Hey, I’m Phoebe, nice to meet you!” And then who knows where our relationship will go from there! But as usual, I stop myself, knowing full well that sitting down next to you and striking up conversation would not go down well with your friends.

Frank Iero is the first of your crew to sit down next to you. He’s a nice guy; he’s not like the rest of your gang, he smiles at everyone, stands up for anyone. I remember last year when I got locked into my locker by some of the bigger members of your gang, kids who notice girls like me, even if you don’t. Frank just turned up and rescued me. You’re lucky to have at least one good guy on your side.

But, of course! I’m forgetting Gerard! He’s a good guy too! I met him when I was working late in the art department. He leant me some charcoal. Your brother’s a good guy too.

That’s pretty much all of the good guys I can think of right now, I’m sure there are others with good hearts like yours, but it’s difficult to think now, considering I’m so hungry yet I’m too afraid to leave my spot with the perfect view of you. So I’ll wait til you’re done eating and gone to eat. I would hate for you to first notice me with a mouthful of hash brown anyway.

“Hey Mike!” I don’t like ‘Mike’, you’re too feminine to pull of ‘Mike’. I much prefer Mikey to Mike. Mikey is such a cute name and it really does suit you…

You smile and wave as you see James Laurence accompanied by two pretty girls striding up to you, he slumps in the chair beside you and instantly starts talking in your ear, gesturing towards the two girls and smirking. Your eyes fall on the red head and linger for way too long and I know exactly what’s running through your head, I can read you so well. James wants the blonde… blondes are his one weakness, just give him a blonde girl and he’ll be distracted for hours. I have often contemplated dying my hair, just in case he runs out of ‘hot’ blondes and starts on the ‘geeky’ blondes but I’m soon dissuaded from this idea as I remember hearing you say you prefers blondes- but obviously not as much as James does.

You nod and smiles at the girls, extending your arm to them, I can read your beautiful lips form the words, “Mikey Way, nice to meet you.” I can’t help but wish it were me…

“Hey Phoebe,” I jerk my head away from you and look up to see my only friend, Cass, smiling down at me as she places her tray beside mine, “Why aren’t you eating?”

“I’m waiting…” I say, she nods and I look back at you wistfully. The red head is sitting close to you now, whispering in your ear and you’re eyes are wide; she’s obviously talking dirty to you.

“You’re staring…” Cass mumbles, amused; she’s always enjoyed my ‘little crush’ as she calls it, “Why don’t you just go talk to him?”

“He’s busy right now,” I whisper back, still not tearing my eyes from you. I don’t think I can.

“Ah,” she says, cutting into her sausages and humming a tune, “Do it tomorrow?”

I nod, but I know I won’t. Tomorrow’s church and I know I’ll see you, but I never keep these promises.

I watch as you and the red head girl leave the breakfast hall with great jealousy. And at that moment it hits me, I’ll never get that with you will I? Sure, in my dreams, but never for real. And it hurts.

“Hey, Cass… I think I’m gonna go back to the dorm, I don’t feel so good…” I smile sadly at her, slinging my bag over my shoulder and hurry away from her, gliding past your table where you no longer sit due to that slutty ginger who seems to be oh, so irresistible…

As tears accumulate, I don’t miss the small smile your friend Frank gives me as I pass him. It makes me feel like I’m not alone. I told you he’s a good guy…