june and the blond boy

June's Shit Record Collection

ᴊᴜɴᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʙʟᴏɴᴅ ʙᴏʏ

i'd been counting down the days until i'd walk the stage and get my diploma, and god was i nervous. i paced around my room, going over my speech as james looked through my record collection. "your collection is shit." he said.

"okay, maybe i could erase this part and— what?" i turned to look at him.

"i said who cares about the speech?" he said, though i knew that's not what he said at first.

"huh?" i went to the corner of my room to sit next to him on the floor. "what do you need a speech for? just get the diploma and get the hell outta there. plus, graduation isn't for another month, right?" he shrugged.

"yeah, but are you sure though? what if my aunt—"

"who cares what your aunt thinks? it's your graduation, and clearly the speech is stressing you out so much that your hairs falling out." he said, pointing at my head.

my face fell. "no it's not." i scrambled off the floor to go to my mirror and examine my hair. "i'm kidding, your hairs fine." he said, ruffling it with his hands. "stop!" i smacked his hand away. "or i'll mess up yours." i said, grabbing the pair of scissors that sat on top of my dresser.

"yeah... okay... i'm leaving now." he backed away slowly, tripping over the record crate and falling on his ass with a loud thud. i threw my head back in laughter and pointed a finger at him. in response, he mumbled a profanity before hopping out my window and disappearing into the night. i pushed the crate back in its spot before running down the stairs and finding my aunt in the kitchen.

"hey, i was just about to go up and ask what that loud noise was?" she asked while she chopped vegetables.

"oh, james—" i cut myself off. "uhh... i just tripped over my record crate, that's it." i lied, shrugging my shoulders.

she saw right through me. "you know i don't care if james comes over. i used to sneak my boyfriend in all the time."

"uh... yeah... i appreciate your coolness or whatever, but he's not my boyfriend." i said, holding my hands up in defense. "oh, right. right." she rolled her eyes, waving the knife around in the air which i thought wasn't the best idea ever...

"oh by the way, some boy came by earlier looking for you. he's in the living room." she said casually. i cocked my head to the side and furrowed my brows. "pardon?" i blinked at her.

"yeah, go. dont make him wait." she said, shooing me away.

i entered the living room to see my uncle and a boy from math class sitting on the couches talking to each other. "oh, russell! hi!" i gulped. i had to admit i'd always found russell attractive. "you need the 5.1 notes? i'll go get them." i said, ascending up the stairs. "no, uh..." he followed behind me.

i sped walked into my room, straight to my desk thst held all my papers as he spoke. "no actually, i was gonna see if you wanted to go out."

i stopped rustling through my papers and looked up at him. "like... tonight?" i asked. "yeah, tonight." he smiled.

"uh..."

fuck it. when's the last time i had fun?

"sure, why not?" i shrugged. "cool, cool." he nodded with a tint of red on his cheeks. "sorry for showing up like this... i tried calling you but it went straight to voicemail, then i called back and uh.. i think someone else answered, but i'm not sure."

"huh, that's weird." i walked over to the telephone that sat on my nightstand. "it's not even plugged in!" i groaned, plugging it back in the wall. "i'm sorry. i don't know how that happened." i turned to look at him.

"no worries." he chuckled.

earlier that evening, james' p.o.v.

june was using the bathroom while i began looking through her record collection. jesus, she had a shitty music taste. "eh.." i shrugged when i found a black sabbath record. maybe it's not so bad.

i flinched when the telephone blared through the silent room. "damn it." i grumbled, standing up from the floor and walking over to the phone, picking it up and placing it back down.

returning to the records, it rang again.

"what the fuck?" i huffed, letting it ring. after it stopped ringing, a voice came through the answering machine.

"hey june! its russell, i promise i'm not calling about the math homework again. i just wanted to see if you were free for dinner tonight? seven pm? i can pick you up, just give me a call back if you're not too busy."

without thinking, i picked up the phone right before the voicemail ended. "hello!" i chirped into the speaker.

"oh hey, is this june?"

"..nnnno." i shook my head. "no, this isn't june. june's not here. june's um..." i swallowed hard. "june's at the uh— oh! right, june, she's at the— her neighbors house."

"uh, i'm sorry... who is this?"

"this is june speaking, how can i help you?" i did my best impression of june.

"oh.. hey june! you feelin' okay? you sound a little.. sick... or something."

"no, i'm fine." i said. "actually, yeah. i am." i coughed into my sleeve. "yeah, i was hanging out with this boy james earlier.. if y'know what i mean, and he um... well, he went a little too deep—"

"oh!" he cut me off. i moved away from the phone and covered my mouth to hide my laughter.

"um... yeah, im sorry that happened... uh.. well anyway, i was gonna see if you wanted to go to dinner?"

uh oh.

panicking, i slammed the phone back on the receiver with a ding! and unplugged both the telephone and the answering machine from the wall.

"bye-bye russell." i snickered to myself just before june walked back into the room.

"who were you talking to..?" she furrowed her brows.

"no one. you're delusional." i said, returning to my spot in front of the record crate. "okay, let's go over my speech." she said.

a/n

not sure if answering machines existed in 1981. sorry if i'm wrong!