Three Cheers for Sweet Love: 1
ahahahaha get it??? My Chemical Romance??? No??? Okay....
I woke up from the blaring alarm that set off in my room. My vision was partially blocked from the sun hitting my eyes which didn’t help with opening them much. I shifted my position on the bed slightly, still drowsy from the sweet relief of sleep (though was interrupted from the sound of the alarm). Irritated, but still groggy, I gradually slid off the bed, my feet gently touching the carpet floor of my room which I would’ve liked to stay in for another 3 hours of sleep before starting the day.
I stumbled into the bathroom of my room, already getting ready for the day. I brushed my teeth, brushed my hair, washed my face, and picked out my outfit for the day; something simple, but still aligns with my aesthetic. I slipped on the top, bottoms, shoes and extra accessories with my outfit. I then went on to put on some makeup to better accentuate my style. I looked great, at least, that’s what I thought.
Walking down the stairs, I took in the morning scenery of the house, the sun pooling in through the windows gradually as the minutes ticked by. The smell of breakfast and coffee overcame my nose, sniffing around for the source. I walked into the kitchen to see Dad cooking up eggs, bacon and grits with buttered toast on the side. Two plates–one empty, one full with the food–were already placed on the kitchen table.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Dad noticed my tired face, “Your plate’s on the table. I’ll be with you in a second.”
He was always the cook in our family. He knew exactly what things I liked, didn’t like, and were neutral about in terms of foods and dishes. He also knew more about me than Mom, which caught my attention sometimes. It shouldn’t surprise me. He’s my father.
“If you want,” He spoke up again, “I can pour in a cup of coffee for you.”
“Yeah, sure,” I agreed. I knew I needed a cup of coffee to wake me up. Today starts my first day at Hollywood Arts, whatever that is. I don’t know much about the school except that it’s a fine arts school and there are a lot of talented, creative students, which made me feel anxious. The fact that kids also bare talent and creativity as much as I do doesn’t sit right with me for some reason.
Dad placed his plate of food down on the table and pulled up a chair. He sat in it and scooted it back in its place, shifting his weight so he can be comfortable. He picked up his fork and knife and began to eat. I was only halfway done with my food when that happened.
“So, how’s your food, honey?” He asked for my opinion on the food. Of course, I’d say it was good. All his dishes were good. I nodded.
“It’s good. Of course it is,” I forced out a chuckle as I watched him eat his food with more speed than me. I fidgeted with my hands under the table as I continued to procrastinate about my first day at school. Nonetheless, I hoped for the best—hoped that something good will come out of it.
Continuing on, I began to eat my breakfast again before hearing the bus stop in front of my house. Dad looked up from his plate to look at the door for a second before turning his attention to me.
“You better catch up to the bus,” He spoke, finishing his last bit of food before placing his utensils on the plate and getting up to walk to the sink. I turned to stare at the door, trying to remember what else I forgot. That’s when I remembered; my backpack! I hurried up the stairs and grabbed my bag, which was decorated in little trinkets, pins, and chains. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I skipped down the stairs, pecked Dad on the cheek, said my goodbyes and swung the front door open.
Locking it behind me, I turned to look at the yellow bus in front of my house. I slowed my pace, now simply walking toward the bus and stepping in. My ears were filled with the chatter of students and the laughs of others in the back. I walked down the aisle, looking for a seat to take.
Unfortunately, most of them were taken except one, which had a girl with red hair and a pink dress sitting by the window of the bus. Sighing, I slipped onto the seat next to her, placing my bag between my knees and zipping open the front. I pulled out my Pear Pod and my earbuds and played some music for myself.
I hadn’t noticed the red-headed girl look at me for a second after a couple of minutes of me time before tapping my shoulder. I pulled out one of my earbuds, finally looking at the girl for what seemed like forever.
“Hi!” The girl greeted me with an enthusiasm that gave the vibe of cotton candy—sweet and cheerful.
“Hey,” I replied back, smiling at her. I felt awkward.
“Are you new?” She asked. I nodded without another word from my mouth. She gasped, smiling wider than she did before.
“Woah, that’s awesome!” A part of me believed her enthusiasm was sarcasm, but I played along anyways.
“Yeah. What grade are you in?” I asked curiously. Half of me hoped that she’d be in the same classes as me. At least I would know someone in my classes.
“Oh, I’m a Sophomore. What about you?” She asked me back. I sighed in relief, but she might’ve interpreted it as something else from the way her smile faded afterwards. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I am. Just relieved,” I reminded her, “I’m also a Sophomore.” A squeal was heard from her, a smile fading back in her face. I snickered half-heartedly as her little smile.
“That’s really cool! We’d probably be in the same class,” She exclaimed. Before I could go back to listening to my music, she hovered a hand in front of me. “I’m Cat. Cat Valentine.”
“‘Cat Valentine’?” I raised an eyebrow. I liked the name; it matched her sugar-like energy, but something in me tried to take in the name as if it wasn’t a normal occurrence to hear a name such as that—it really wasn’t.
“Yeah. Cat is short for Catherine,” She reminded me. Now it made sense as to why she called herself that.
“Oh I see. I’m (name),” I took her hand with mine and shook it. She smiled, squealing with her hands up in the air before pulling me in a tight hug.
“I just made a friend!” She exclaimed. I laughed from how sudden that was, but again it was half-hearted—I was really tired today and I thought the coffee would help. I hope I don’t fall asleep in my classes on the first day.
We hadn’t arrived at the school yet when the bus picked up one other student. I didn’t get a good view until he passed up my seat. A part of me could’ve sworn he slowed down to stare at me for a good bit before moving on to the back. His hair was in messy brown curls and his glasses acted as glass shields for his wide blue eyes. I felt a wave of uneasiness over my body, but it soon left.
Looking back over to Cat next to me, I leaned over, whispering quietly so the boy won’t hear me.
“Who was that?” I asked her. She furrowed her eyebrows as she looked behind her, looking at the boy in the back of the bus.
She turned back over to me.
“That’s Sinjin. Sinjin Van Cleef. He’s…odd,” She informed me. I looked behind my seat to look at the boy, whose name was apparently Sinjin.
“Sinjin…” I tested the name with my tongue. I looked back forward, peering down at the Pear Pod in my hand and the unfinished song on its screen. I took note of the timestamp before looking at Cat, whose eyes were viewing the motion outside the window. The bus was still driving us to school and I was still watching Cat, trying to find the right time that she would talk again. My hopes of her talking were lowering gradually until I heard the subtle sound of her lips parting before she took a breath. I took out my earbuds completely to hear.
“One time, my brother and I went to the aquarium. He ate the fish in the fish tank,” She said. My neutral expression was now replaced with confusion. From the way she said it, it sounded like she was used to things like that happening. Half of me believed she was lying, another part didn’t—-that was dumb.
I felt the bus come to a stop.
“We’re here!” Cat exclaimed. She smiled widely at me. I was surprised to find myself not noticing her big brown eyes. Other than that, I smiled back at her, returning the friendly fire.
When we made our way out of the bus, we were met with the wind blowing against us when we exited. I looked at the school in front of me, taking in the sign above the entrance.
“‘Hollywood Arts’,” I read to myself. Finally, I walked towards the doors of the school. As I was making my way to the double doors, I noticed someone walk beside me from the corner of my eye. I knew it wasn’t Cat because she had already gone inside the school without me, and I knew she didn’t have short curls as hair.
Turning my head to look at the person, I noticed it was the awkward-looking boy from earlier—-Sinjin. It looked as though he had only walked beside me to stare at me and nothing else. He seemed to be in a daze for a couple seconds before noticing I was staring back at him. I watched him as he began to look around frantically before finally walking away from me.
I looked back forward, trying to shrug off the encounter I just had. Walking into the school for once, I took in the noisier area around me—-it was noisier than the bus. Kids were dancing, others were playing their instruments, and I watched as Cat skipped over to a group of other kids, which I assumed was her friend group.
After a bit of staring at the school’s students, I was about to make my way to Cat and her friends until the bell rang. I let out a heavy sigh, looking around again to find out where I was supposed to go. There had been a moment where me and Cat conversed, where she told me we were going to be in the same class. Taking that note in, I followed her to find my class.
After walking up some stairs, going down some hallways, and peeking in classes, I watched as she walked into one of the classrooms. I hesitantly walked in. I was nervous—very, very nervous—to enter the class, but I did so anyway, and I was taken aback by the teacher’s booming voice.
“Welcome to improv class, people!” The teacher exclaimed. I knew—from the teacher’s loud voice, and the choice of students that were in the class, including Cat and Sinjin—that this was going to be a very, very long day.
