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"𝐄𝐘𝐘𝐘𝐘, 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐁𝐎𝐘" Val yelled charging towards me. His voice was full of energy, brimming with that wild, uncontained enthusiasm that I often found exhausting. But I didn't budge. Not even when he dove into me, trying to wrestle me into some sort of reaction.
I stood still, licking the butter knife with a dollop of thick and creamy peanut butter. I don't know why, I have been having a crazy craving for peanut butter for the past few days.
My love for peanut butter is bigger than the whole sky, it was my prime diet last week. Even this morning, when my mom told me to grab something quick for breakfast I just decided to grab the half empty peanut butter jar and a butter knife for the train ride.
"Where's your bread? Why're you only plain eating peanut butter?" Val asked, frowning. "I like it" I commented as I scraped the bottom of the jar for more. "You're weird" he said as he moved on to talk with Lorcan about how he toilet-papered his neighbour's house and his summer with his cousins.
I eyed Hugo and Ajax, they were having slightly heated conversation, perhaps just a normal couple disagreement, me and Lily live on those- I saw Lorcan stealing glances at Hugo. Drama, drama.
I looked around, the platform was crowded with students over a 1000 untold stories all uniting in a single scene starting off a new adventure at Hogwarts and then there was us, the 7th years, the seniors... Who were counting our final days at Hogwarts.
It's ironic, you know? I dreamt of leaving school, growing up, getting a job, and living a life. Right now all I'm wishing for is to either stay at school forever or die the second after I graduate. I don't know if I'm ready to face the hypocritical and judgmental environment of society.
Even Val—Val, who's allergic to anything remotely serious—had to admit that the heavy, unnecessary textbooks (which he'd never open, let alone study) didn't feel like such a burden anymore. And that meant something. He was sorry. Sorry that we had less than a year left. Because honestly, those books are nothing compared to the burdens waiting for us out there.
Still, I know I won't cry on the last day. I'm not weird that way. I don't really feel emotions (or I guess I forced myself to not feel them)—at least not in the normal way. But I'm good at stating them. At describing them.
"I don't think the headboy should be eating peanut butter from a jar in the middle of the platform and maybe try to control the crowds instead?" I heard the voice I wanted to hear behind me. I turned around to the brunette haired, blue eyed, french boy, Jared Jaques standing next to his girlfriend Judy.
