Oh my my my. So I finally got up the courage last night while we were on the phone together. I paid her for the planner she insisted on buying me ($5.50 in quarters, dimes, nickels and 38 pennies) and added a note in the envelope. It went something along the lines of suggesting that we meet in the costume room during junior lunch because I had long period free and I wouldn't feel as guilty if she only skipped out on two lunches instead of the whole forensics class. I tried not to think about it, sealed it, and put it in my bag. I knew if I concentrated too much on what I had just written and suggested my conscience would get the better of me.
I wanted to give her the envelope first thing this morning but fucking traffic — so she was late to school. Gave it to her after the news meeting and she walked me back to homeroom. I believe there was a quick comment about the change I had been counting on the phone last night but I was really trying too hard not to look conspicuous that I honestly can't remember. Again, still refused to think about the note and what it implied.
So second period ends and I'm going to my locker. So far I have basically managed to not think about the note (although I did write a journal entry about her and some other related things in my Lifestyles journal). We caught up a bit while she was at her locker but we were in the middle of the hall and couldn't be specific. She just told me that she didn't have junior lunch but asked if senior lunch worked okay. I think I gave a noncommittal answer the first time so she tried again. And I said yes. It took me a few minutes before I realized I didn't know quite what she was asking, what I had said yes to.
This would be the point where the letter starts seeping into my consciouness. I went to freshman lunch after doing physics homework outside for half an hour in the prayer garden. It's perhaps a bit sacreligious but then again I suppose if the garden isn't for deep meditative thoughts like I was projecting than it's not good for very much else.
So after spending lunch staring at a cheeseburger and fries I could not bring myself to eat, I went back over to the main building. And sat in the bathroom adjacent to the costume room. I locked myself in a stall and sat on the back of the toilet for about 45 minutes.
I kept psyching myself out. My head was just lolled againt the faux-marble wall but I couldn't bring myself to cry. I kept imagining her appearing out of nowhere and asking what was wrong but she never did. Junior lunch came and went and then the senior bell. I held my breath and I very nearly threw up. Door still locked, I continued to sit there for a good ten minutes before I decided she wasn't coming, which I also refused to think rationally about.
I was trying to avoid thinking about a booty call in school, a school in which not only are we not allowed to be together, but in which people aren't supposed to know we're together. A school in which I know everyone, everyone knows me, and we all know each other's business. Only Kayla knows. I haven't told anyone else. But I apparently have enough courage to secure a potential cutting class charade in the costume room. I was making myself ill.
So I got up off the toilet, actually peed because it'd been bothering me, and went out and started to wash my hands (after flushing of course 😉 ) And who walks by in the hall, but my ladyfriend. I think I choked on spit or something. So she's acting all nonchalont, leaning against the lockers. I finished washing and we chatted about absolutly nothing for a good five minutes before she offered to show me the costume room.
By this time I was assuming it was all innocent. Perhaps she hadn't really gotten the mixed sexual refrences in my letter. Well, I was entirely wrong I am happy to say and I did indeed get a smooch (or a few) in among the cabaret costumes and glitter and sequins and ugly as sin clothes from the 80s. It was actually quite nice. Rushed admittedly, but it made my day. It also made it quite difficult to concentrate in Calculus next period 😀