TALLULAH SUNFLOWER

Nothing Ever Stays The Same

I appreciate my mom for trying to be creative when I was born. She was always the hippie type. I wonder how she does it... how she doesn't freak out when things get too intense and confusing. That doesn't matter anymore. I'll never get out of this nutshell.
For one, I'm about to graduate from high school and this last month of school has consisted of napping, texting, eating and napping again. The school in general is giving everybody shit. Prepare for exams. Turn in missing assignments. Pay attention in class. Do this. Do that.
Like anybody really pays attention in class, especially in the last month.
Of course, some of us do love to procrastinate. So there we are, filling our cup of regret and dread each morning of school.

"What's wrong? Are you sick?" Emilie asked leaning her head towards me at the table. Every morning we sit together in the cafeteria and eat breakfast.
"I feel dead." I say with both hands supporting my head and droopy eyes.
She pouts a little and nods.
"Did you do the essay for sociology?"

Pause =
You know that feeling when you knew you had something important to get done but forgot what it was? And, when it finally comes back to you, it's too late to even begin coming up with an excuse. So, then your heart skips a beat, your stomach rolls over, and you pound your head on the table multiple times because you can't help yourself. Lastly, guilt and anger take over.
"Oh, fuck me. I forgot." I whine.
"You forgot? Oh my god, Tallulah." Emilie chuckles and shakes her head. "What are you ganna do?"
For a moment I imagined myself exploding in front of my teacher. I shoot up from my desk during a boring lecture, everyone is staring at me, I'm standing up straight and the teacher sees me. And, in his monotone voice he asks, "Tallulah, is something wrong?"
I violently swing the hand-out papers on my desk and release a loud screech along with a shout that went something like this, "Something is wrong with you!"

Back to reality.

I shrugged and slouched in response. There's not much else I can do. Emilie probably thinks I'm careless all the time, which isn't completely true. I care about my grades but I don't care to work for good grades. Ya see?

Cheers to another day of feeling like a zombie. Tomorrow I won't remember any of it. It's like being in a nightmare or stuck in limbo.

Bottom line, I'm probably the laziest person you'll ever meet.

"Did you see the new guy?" Asked Beca as she catches up to us in the hallway.
"No?" Said Emilie.
"What about him?" I asked.
Beca raised her eyebrows and cocked her head. "He is so fucking hot and he's Russian!"
Me and Emilie laughed.
"What's a Russian doing at our school? Let alone, an American school?" I said.
"It's highly unlikely now in days." Said Emilie.
Even though Beca drools over hot guys, it doesn't stop her from being in the top ten percent with Emilie.
"I don't know! But he's hot!"
"What does he look like?" I asked.
"He's tall and a little skinny. Great hair and... he kind of looks like Pony Boy from the Outsiders except he's the Russian version of Pony Boy."
I laughed again. "No way! Now I gotta see him." I chuckled.

After the talk of Russian Pony Boy, we headed to our separate classes. I had English first period.
I walk in, put my stuff down and sit. That's when the waiting begins.
Class doesn't start until 8:40 and we only get five minutes to get to class. I'm three minutes early before the bell rings.
"Good morning." Said Mr. Gonzales.
I mumbled back, "Morning."
That was it. That was our conversation for the whole period.

At least, I thought so.

"I have to make a new seating chart." Said Mr. Gonzalez.
I lifted an eyebrow. This some how interested me. I hated where I sat in class but I had already grown adjusted to it. If he's planning on moving me, I wouldn't be happy with it.
"Why?"
"New student. His name is Alexander Thomas. From Russia. Isn't that crazy?" Mr. Gonzales was hard to read sometimes. I couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic.
"Gee, I wonder what he's doing here." He continued.
"Probably planning a terrorist attack." I said coldly.
Mr. Gonzales looked at me bug-eyed. "That's not funny, Tallulah."
I felt embarrassed. My crankiness was speaking for me. "I'm sorry... I'm just really tired."
"Are you usually this rude when you're tired?" He said. I didn't blame him for what he thought of me. And the answer was yes, yes I am.

Class had started and half the class was missing like usual. Roll call took place but no sign of the new kid.

"I think Mr. Thomas might have lost his way to class." Said Mr. Gonzales. I sensed he was up to something. He looked up from his clipboard and scanned the classroom mischievously. Without even looking in my direction, he abruptly said my name.
"Tallulah!"
Crap. I shrugged in my seat. I could care less about a lost boy but Mr. Gonzales was getting back at me for what I said earlier.
"Please, do us a favor and bring him to class." His tone was faking kindness for punishment.
"Uh, why?"
"I trust you'll bring him." He smirked.
"Can't you trust someone else?" I asked.
"No, just you. Now go." He said cock-eyed.
Did I mention my English teacher can be really weird sometimes?

So, out I went to look for Alexander Thomas. No clue what he looks like except for what Beca told me. I'll have to base my search off of that.

I went down the 200 hall towards the career center and the counselors office and asked about the boy. They said they had just dismissed him with his new class schedule. "He's probably touring the school with one of the office aid students." Said Mrs. Estrella.
That's when I decided to roam the halls to kill some time out of class.

When I started heading back to class, the thought hit me then... what is the new kid doing at a new school when school is about to end?

It doesn't make sense but Thomas is none of my business.

As always, I eat my words.

Time seems to stop when I see him...

(Play the music while reading the rest of this chapter if you can.)

In front of me walked a tall slim boy with long black wavy hair that touched his shoulders. He looked nothing like Pony Boy.

Beca had it all wrong.

He wore a grey hoodie, dark skinny blue jeans, and bike boots. I tried not to stare and avoid his eyes but he was clearly unmissable. His slow stride made him look handsome and cool. I just wanted to fade away. His big round eyes landed on me once. As he passed by me, I felt my breath get swept away.

In slow motion I turned to watch him keep walking down the empty hall. He walked so close to me, I could smell his cologne. Musky, sweet, sexy, and warm. All that remained was the sound of his boots against the floor and my heart began pounding against my ribcage begging for more. What was happening to me? I see this guy once and I completely stop functioning. Who did I just see? Is that really Alexander Thomas?

Why didn't I say anything to him?

What happened to me?

I was awestruck and gaping. Looking at him made me feel... you could say, horny? Happy? Freaky? Lovely? Passionate.

Please, slow dance with me! I thought.

You, Alexander Thomas, are a heartthrob. Like running so fast towards the train. Like jumping from roof top to roof top. Like going on a ferris wheel. Thrilling and almost nonexistent.