4:00 PM
I'm sitting in my favorite corner of the library, hiding from the world. I still have Gary the zit on my chin, but he's calmed down a little. He's more of a "small hill" now instead of a "volcano." I was wearing my huge headphones, listening to this really weird indie song that sounds like a person hitting a trash can with a spoon (but in a cool way). I was vibing, closing my eyes, and probably making a weird face.
Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I jumped so high I almost hit the ceiling. It was Julian. He was looking at me with a funny look on his face.
"Your music is really loud," he whispered. "I can hear the spoons from over there."
I felt my face turn bright red. I scrambled to turn the volume down. "Oh no, I'm so sorry! Is it annoying? I thought these headphones were sound-proof."
Julian just laughed and sat down across from me. "It's not annoying. I actually like that band. Is that their new album?"
I stared at him. "Wait, you know The Garbage Collectors?" (Yes, that is actually the band's name. Don't ask.)
"Yeah," he said, opening his bag. "Most people think they just sound like a construction site, but I think they're genius."
We spent the next thirty minutes talking about music. It was the first time I talked to a boy for that long without feeling like I wanted to run away and hide in a hole. He's actually really normal. Like, he worries about his grades and thinks the cafeteria pizza tastes like cardboard, too.
6:30 PM
I got home and saw a text from Chloe. I opened it, hoping she actually did some work for our project.
Chloe: "Hey E-lar-a. I decided the Gatsby slides should be pink. Also, I'm going to the beach this weekend so I can't help with the writing. You got this, right? Thx bye!"
I stared at my phone. Pink? The Great Gatsby is a tragic story about the American Dream, not a Barbie birthday party. And of course, she's going to the beach. Why wouldn't she be?
I started typing a really mean reply. I wrote things like, "Actually, Chloe, the world doesn't revolve around your hair appointments!" and "Do you even know how to read?" My thumb was hovering over the send button. My heart was thumping. I felt like a secret spy about to drop a bomb. But then I thought about what Julian said—that my half of the project would be better anyway.
I deleted the mean text. I just wrote: "Okay. Have fun at the beach." Sometimes, the best way to win is to just not play her game. Plus, I'm going to make the slides a really ugly shade of neon pink just to annoy her.
9:00 PM
I'm laying on my floor, looking at the ceiling. Today was a weird mix of feelings. Chloe makes me feel like a doormat, but Julian makes me feel like a person.
I think I'm starting to realize that you can't control how people treat you. You can only control how you react. And today, I chose to be a person who likes "spoon music" and doesn't start fights over pink slides.
I'm still keeping the neon pink idea, though. I'm not a saint.