Let's Skip!

“You understand, don’t you?” The voice had been that of god. I was certain of it. Looking up at the bright night sky, I held my gift from the heaven’s tight. “The end is coming, Loria. You must follow the plan, or it will all have been for nothing.” I felt my mouth drying, looking down at the little doll in my hands. It resembled a girl in a black jacket and jeans, a guitar slung across her back. “Make the chosen one fall for you, and make her your soldier. Do you understand?” I gulped.

“Yes. I understand.” I make my declaration, and so, am left alone once more in my backyard. I breathe, and feel my whole body relax, just a bit. I admire the doll, running a finger across its face. Unless she falls in lone with me…it won’t work. “I just…need to make her fall in love. That can’t be impossible. I can do this.” Right? I can do this. Yeah. Yeah…

The world may be fucked…

…

I groan as I arrive at the front entrance to my school. What a plain-ass looking place. Though, at least today, I actually feel some motivation for being here. I step inside, immediately assaulted by the vast amount of voices and sounds of people moving. I force myself to focus on everyone around me. Thankfully, this person is supposed to stand out. At least, if she’s supposed to have her guitar on her. I step further in. Where the hell would she be? The music room? That would make the most sense. My destination decided, I turn to the left hallway, only to face the painful wrath of every student coming pouring in from the bus lane entrance.

“Idiot. Stupid. Dumbass. OW! Hey, I’m sorry! Would you not?! Ugh, nevermind…” I lose the will to defend myself from the dirty looks of every student who bumps into me. Please, please be there. Please tell me this wasn’t a waste of time.

Please…please…please…

“...”

The music room is locked. Dark inside. Not a single person in sight over here.

“...”

There are times in life when, perhaps, it’s good to reflect. Not always to learn, of course, but to perhaps keep your blood pressure from spiking.

“.......FU-”

Now is not one of those times. I hate my life.

…

“Mmm? She ain’t in any of my classes.”

Walk walk walk.

“Sorry, have you tried Mr. Terry’s? He tends to get the…uniquer students.”

Walk walk walk.

“Who said that about my students? That’s, wow, that’s uhm, kind of unacceptable. Anyway, no, uh, no girls in any of my classes like that. Maybe check with Naomi? Our librarian?”

Trudge trudge trudge…

“Go away.”

Trudge trudge tru-wait. Can you talk to students like that? I ponder the question while sitting in the bathroom. It’ll be homeroom soon, and I still haven’t found her. Urgh…you know, I don’t think I was ever told she goes to my school. Did I just figure I would have been told if she didn’t? Or does that work the other way around? Does this mean I have no idea where she could be at all? What the hell…come on, there’s no way that’s the case. Right? Please? I let my face fall into my knees. I guess…I gotta check Facebook or something. Or is there some kind of international database? Do I have to make a Rate Your Music account? I think I’d rather the world end…the things we do when humanity is on the line.

“Damn, the site isn’t that bad.” I look up from my self-pity and feel my heart rise from the pits of despair. “Hmm? Something up?”

“Y-y-you-I-I’m-”

“...” Shit, she looks scared.

“I W-WAS LOOKING FOR YOU!”

“Oh…ok…uhm, what’s up?” Still scared. Calm down, calm down.

“I-guitar! I wanted to talk to you about your guitar!” I lucked out, is all I can think, pointing at the head of the guitar poking out from her back. “It’s so cool!”

“Yeah? Uh, yeah. For sure.” She takes the strap off, flipping the guitar to her front to let me get a better look at it. Damn, that is a pretty nice guitar, actually. The design of painterly waves mixes with the rest of the surrounding black. I’d probably use it if I could get my hands on it… “You like guitars?”

“Y-yeah. I’m not good at playing, but…I really like how they look and sound.”

“Huh. Fair enough.” Her face seems to relax as she gently plucks a string with her finger. “Though, the shade at RYM is a little unnecessary. Are you a hipster?”

“That site is FOR hipsters.”

“Is it?”

“...yes.”

“Uph! You paused.”

“I-I think it is.”

“Relax, I’m just fuckin around. I just think it’s funny when people pretend to be above sites like that. Like, okay dude.”

“Hehe…yeah…” I feel my cheeks burning up.

“What’s your name?”

“Oh! Loria! Yours?”

“Nikki.” She holds out a hand, and I take it. I can feel rough calluses brushing against my palm. Wow, yeah, that guitar really isn’t just for show/ “Nice meeting you. I’m guessing you’ll want to run to class soon, though. Homeroom started 5 minutes ago.”

“C-crap! You’re right!” I grab my bag and get ready to race to class when I feel a thought slam right through my brain. Wait, what the hell am I doing going to class! As if I have the time for that. “U-UHM!”

“J-jesus, yeah?”

“L-let’s skip!”

“...what?”

“I-I think we should skip!”

“...why?”

“B-because I…classes are lame! I wanna talk to you about guitars more!” Her face is completely frozen. Ah, yes, a completely normal reaction. I may actually be batshit.

“P-PFFT! HAHAHA!” She starts laughing, holding her stomach as it turns into a belly laugh. “Y-you’re the real deal, huh?!”

“R-real…deal?”

“Hah, never mind! You know what, you’re right. I wasn’t feeling school today anyway.” She reaches into her pocket, opening a carton and pulling out a…candy cigarette. She places the stick in her mouth and looks over at me. “Right then, follow me. I’ll show you a good time, tough girl.”

“R-right.” Somehow, I feel like I may have ended up with someone more crazy than me.