If there’s one thing that will always remain a common trait in myself (and those others of my generation), that one thing would be my inability to wake up before the sun with a smile on my face. For school, I have to deal with music blaring at a time as early as six, and no later than seven – I don’t think there are any possible ways to make that a happy thing. Waking up early, to me, is like getting a bucket of ice water dunked over my head: it’s far too cold, my eyes hurt and I legitimately want to cry. Then you can throw in the fact that my alarm clock wakes me by playing a random song off my iPod. Let’s just say I have a very diverse sense of musical taste, most of which orbits around anything with a guitar or keyboard. Some days, the shuffle of my mp3 player will bless me with a cheery, light song like Hello Yellow by Backseat Goodbye or Summer Skin by Death Cab For Cutie. Most days, though, I’m most inconvenienced by the screaming and crashing of electric guitars and drum beats of Eyes Set To Kill and As I Lay Dying, that would definitely be enjoyed when I’m not dreaming about hot guys and wallabies – in no way do I find it acceptable to start the day by having the lover in my dream and his cute, furry marsupial friend eaten by a crazy, fire-breathing dragon named Meddler or Hottlips.

Some days, though, I’m simply at the peak of badass-ity and find this kind of awakening invigorating.

Like today, for example. Maybe it was the fact that I had multiple plans for this day, or the fact I lay in bed for over two hours before falling asleep, but I sure was looking forward to today, and I found no obstacles to my ever-growing excitement. My blanket had not ripped itself off my bed, and my toothpaste was minty-fresh. My hair was wavy and curly in the right spots and I hadn’t broken out in new, embarrassing spots in my sleep. Flat tire? No chance – I walk to school! I was still literally skipping when I ran into my dad, coming up the stairs, who proceeded to towel off his hair (even though water had soaked the shoulders of his shirt already) and fix me with a strange look through his green eyes.

“Mon Dieu, qu’est-ce je fait…” he sighed – though, hardly a serious man at home.

“Today will be a good day, father,” I grinned. “You’ll see.”

“If you say so,” he said as he passed me. “There’s chocolate pancakes on the stove.”

“You see what I mean?”

Nothing like warm, homemade chocolate-chip pancakes to fuel a rad, awesome, bangarang day!

My morning flew through quickly and in no time, Meredith and I were up the stairs at school again. I hastily sorted through unnecessary and necessary textbooks and binders and flung the ones I didn’t need into my locker. At Mere’s locker this time, I didn’t lean on his locker – I didn’t want it to seem like I was trying to relive the day before, so I had to act cool; I had to look like I didn’t care who he was, and certainly wasn’t waiting for him. Soon enough, the white knight appeared and opened his locker up, shortly followed by three other guys. Only one of them also had a skateboard (so either the others had dropped theirs off already, or were BMX bikers) and none were as attractive as their friend. In fact, one of them – a particularly thin boy with his dirty blonde hair spiked with gel – looked like a freshman. They talked all the while they were there, and although I appeared to be heavily involved with my phone, I overheard the mystery boy respond to, “Right, Connor?”

Connor. Connor. If there was a list of attractive names – so help me God – Connor would definitely be within the top few. Honestly, it was such a cute one and it really did seem to suit him, in my opinion. When he and his little group of friends left, I smirked at Mere. “Connor. His name’s Connor.” I could say that name over and over again, it always sounded so nice.

“Don’t get obsessed, you freak!” she laughed and clicked her lock close, just as the warning bell rang and we were shuffled by the tides of people to our homeroom classes. First for me was my maths class, so I had to actually pay attention to the lesson, rather than think about what could possibly happen if I ever got close to a guy like Connor. Honestly, he seemed like one of those hardcore guys with a soft spot for sweet animals, except he didn’t seem as intimidating as anyone else I’d meet at the skatepark.

As I solved some algebraic equations, I tried to focus and get most of the work done, but focusing is a terribly hard thing to do once you’ve found out something interesting about a cute guy.

Lunch was supposed to be dull today. Sebastian and I usually have the same lunch block but he had to stay back in his English class to work on an essay. I was alone for a full forty-five minutes. Dreadfully enough, I poked a hand in my pocket and retrieved the change I needed for my lunch and stepped into the lunch line, managing to secure a steady spot before it grew to a snaking length. I contemplated ditching the lunch period and eating at the plaza nearby, but a tap on the shoulder ceased that thinking. Deja vu.

“Hey,” that husky voice said as he stepped beside me in line, a grin on his face. I couldn’t help but smile back – would you look at my luck?

“Oh, uh, hi,” I mean, what else was I supposed to say? I thought I’d ward him off with my awkwardness but he stayed with me as the line progressed at the slowest rate possible. I guess I was glad the line was actually moving slowly, since it meant I’d spend more time talking to him (so long as the words find a way to leave my mouth). I tried to think how Sebastian talks – that smooth, well thought-out way – and maybe I’d try it.

“So I guess you’re my new locker neighbour?”

“Ah, ha, no – that’s my friend’s locker,” I replied.

“Oh? Well, that’s my friend’s locker, too – the school’s assigned me a locker on the first floor, when most of my classes are on second,” he paused a second before flashing bright whites at me. “I’m Connor, by the way.”

My insides turned at the sound of his saying his own name. I’m a loser, I know, but I had to bite my tongue to prevent myself from telling him how I already knew his name. I did my best to pause and make sure my brain was functioning enough to let me enunciate my name properly.

“Charlotte – but everyone calls me Charlie,” I managed without a stutter – I almost felt smooth.

“Huh, I wonder why they’d call you that, when Charlotte’s such a beautiful name,” he said under his breath. The compliment sent a shiver down my spine and I couldn’t help but laugh awkwardly to draw attention away from the sudden tingling of blush on my cheeks. “Heh, thanks.”

I ordered myself a chicken burger and transferred into the cashier line and he did the same (except he had gotten pasta instead).

“So, Char, you should text me sometimes and maybe we can hang out, ‘cause you seem like a pretty rad girl,” he smiled and passed over his phone – a simple, grey-and-lime one with a keyboard – and I did the same, before we returned each others’ phones and divided beyond the cashier. He gave me a final wave goodbye and once he was out of sight – he didn’t stay in the cafeteria for lunch – I looked down at the newest addition to my contacts. Connor Aiden Parker ;) was the exact way he’d listed it, as well as his ten-digit cell number. It was far more interesting than my Charlie Harrow, but I didn’t wonder that much about it, because I’m pretty I sure I spent most of the rest of my lunch amazed that I had managed to receive this phone number in the first day I’ve spoken with him. Maybe you didn’t understand the significance, but I wasn’t the kind of person to even properly speak to someone when they addressed me, especially if they’re this attractive. This was kind of a big deal.

“I’m impressed, Charlie,” Meredith told me as she strolled along with Sebastian.

“Yeah, well, what can I say? Smooth operator, right?” I laughed and kicked a pebble across the sidewalk. “Anyways, I don’t know if I’d get around to texting him.”

“Why not?” Seb asked – the first bit of the conversation he’d inputted. He said he was just tired, but he didn’t seem to be in the best of moods, either.

“’Cause, like, I can’t just start texting him like a freak or he’ll think I am one,” I tried to explain, but he didn’t seem to be too interested on my reasoning. “Giving me his number might have just been some weird courtesy, or something.”

Meredith sighed, “Don’t be so pessimistic, Jesus! You always over-analyze things! Just calm down,” She then winked at me, as she edged away from us and towards her house. “He probably thinks you’re cuuuuuute!”

I shook my head as she entered her house, her puppy bounding to the door to greet her, but in my head I was considering the possibility of that actually being true. I mean, what if? It would be a bad idea to ignore all possible reasons for his interaction, but the thought of him just finding me attractive... It was probably, right? I mean, Oliver thought I was really pretty.

No, Charlotte; stop thinking about him. He can have Victoria, if he fancies.

Unfortunately, I was forced to dwell on these thoughts anyways, as Sebastian was very quiet. His presence, though, was enough to make up for the lack of communication and I would’ve chosen to walk silently with him than on my own any day. After he walked me up my stairs, I gave him a big hug.

“Hope you’re feeling better tomorrow,” I told him, letting go a minute later. I ruffled his hair and went into my house.

From here on out, I’d follow the usual, after school routine; I took a shower, read some of my novel for English, parents came home, and after dinner I then decided to play Legend of Zelda: A Link to the Past on one of the Nintendo consoles I had plugged to the tiny, limited-cable TV in my room. Sometimes I liked to play these games with their simple controls, other times I preferred the complexity and amazing graphics of my XBOX360 on the big screen. One thing’s for certain: nerdy paraphernalia have always been a part of my life. My parents loved it all – they’d play Super Mario N64, watch Star Wars and even created various names for me based off of famous characters (the reason why my middle name is Amelia – named after Queen Amidala). At first, I’d just watch them – the many dangers in the ‘action’ games of that generation were too thrilling for me. Then, one day, they bought the Duck Hunt set – it was love at first sight. I’d shoot ducks day and night and put up a fuss if I didn’t get to play it – I was insane. Now, I’ve fairly expanded my horizons on the gaming world.

I made my way through to Helmasaur in the Palace of Darkness when my phone buzzed. I wasn’t expecting it so I’ll admit that I jumped and panicked a little, just like I do when the microwave beeps and the toast in the toaster pops up. Putting the game on pause and taking a deep breath to calm myself (I wasn’t kidding when I said I panicked, okay?) I fetched it from off my desk and opened the message – as soon as I did so, I could feel my stomach churn and my face grow hot.

From: Connor Aiden Parker ;)

Hey there, what’s up?

I waited at least five minutes before I answered – to properly convey to him that I wasn’t waiting for this text and I was probably doing something really cool instead of replying. As I reassured myself that he wasn’t that great and I didn’t need to worry about how he’d interpret the speed of my reply, I sent him my contribution to the conversation: “Oh, hey. Not much, how about you? (:”. I then went down to the kitchen to fix myself a sandwich and listen to the thoughts in my head squeal over the fact an incredibly hot guy had just texted me. My stomach made me want to jump on a trampoline for hours and my brain agreed with it.

His next text was already waiting for me by the time I was back in my room, sandwich in hand, and the banter miraculously continued. The responses became more frequent as I stopped worrying, and he fuelled me more to talk about. Eventually, the texting stopped and my phone rang – he was calling me.

We ended up talking until past midnight, and it was amazing how legit everything feels when you’re on the phone with someone late at such a time. I didn’t worry much about what I said, we laughed a lot, I told him about myself, he told me about himself – I learned a lot. He was born on the seventeenth of October, has an older brother in university, moved here from downtown Toronto, his father died when he was five, his favourite colour was teal, he had a corgi puppy named Latifa (“It sounded nice when I picked it out. I mean, imagine me in a park and then, ‘LATIFA! STOP CHASING THOSE CATS, GIRL!’”) and enjoyed the rock I did (because he did not have such a wide, musical variety and was mostly into hardcore tunes). I felt a bit more confident after this conversation, and definitely didn’t mind – for once – that I had missed out on so many beautiful hours of sleep. When I finally did close my eyes, I was wiped out, drowning myself in these new facts about Connor, and the way he sounded when he whispered, laughed and said goodbye.

Labels: nanowrimo