The Nobody Chronicles: Chapter Two (part one)

       Even though I had already missed first period, I decided to swing by the classroom and maybe see if there was any work I could pick up or something. Okay, okay, so I’m not that good of a student, but I did head toward my first period class. Truth was, I was really hoping that, if I got there fast enough, I would run in to  him. You know, the guy who would not be named that was part of the J.Crew spread huddled outside of the building where Miriam took a tumble.

       I know it was silly, or whatever. Like really, even if I did happen to be lucky enough to run into him (luck being something that has already clearly been shown to NOT be my thing) it’s not like I would have something to say, or that he would even notice that I was walking by. I guess, in my bizarre thought process of strange rationalities, I just liked the idea of getting to see him every day. Totally creepy, I know, but whatever, we all like to look at pretty things don’t we? I mean, don’t blame a girl for worshipping primo high school hotness from afar, gosh!

       Okay, so there I was, fighting my way through the halls like a trout swimming upstream against the current, if the current was made up of large, unaware oafs with 50 pound backpacks slamming into things like a freaking pinball machine, when I spot him coming out of the classroom. Now, I can’t tell you what made me think to do it. In fact, I’m not entirely sure I thought it about it at all. But one second I was a few feet away watching him flip his hair perfectly back into place and the next second I was charging at him full speed like he was that guy in Spain who waves that red thing at the bull.

       As basic physics dictates, we collided, and for the second time that day I found myself flat on my back, looking up at the ceiling. This time, however, I wasn’t thinking about how great it was to be noticed. Nope, instead my brain was screaming “holy crap! What the hell did you just do?! You just football tackled your crush and now your gonna get trampled by a million kids running to class.” Of course, at this point, the prospect of death by high school stampede seemed favorable to the slow and painful demise of my dignity when I had to actually face my victim and deliver some sort of plausible explanation.