Wishing Paul

Part One: Before | Chapter 1: The First Day | Your POV

I climbed out of bed this morning, just to look in the mirror and sigh. I really don't enjoy this life very much. It's not that I don't like living, but this life is just so stressful. I'm expected to have fun, but not too much fun. I'm expected to do work, but not too much work. I'm expected to take breaks, but not for too long, because, as pre-mentioned, I'm expected to work. I am expected to please everyone, but not to let people walk all over me. It's just too complicated.

I went through the first day of school after summer break, and at a new school. I had an hour of my Spanish teacher, Mr. Estevez, trying to figure out where we are in our journey to perfection of the Spanish language and culture. I sat alone in the front corner of the room, so as to make a good impression, but not draw too much attention to myself.

I zoned out a lot during that first hour of school, admiring the eccentric colors provided by the abundance of posters plastered over the walls. As I gazed, I never noticed Mr. Estevez glancing over at me occasionally. Then the end of class came.

"Y/n," he began, "How do you like your new school?"

"It's not as bad as it could be." I replied.

"Have you made any friends yet?"

"Well, considering I came straight to this room when I got here this morning, and I haven't spoken to anyone except you and a janitor, whom of which I am unsure of their name, I would go with a 'no'."

"You could consider us friends. I mean, they say that as long as you make one friend on the first day, you're set for life."

"Thanks, sir, but I am pretty sure that I don't want to spend my senior year being known as 'the kid who is buddy-buddy with the science teacher'."

"Erm, I teach Spanish. This shows how much you paid attention today. Go ahead and get to class. Wouldn't want to miss a chance to make friends."

"Okay, sir. I'll see you tomorrow." I say, ending the conversation as I duck out the door and scurry to my next class before the bell rings.

When I get to Stress Relief and Yoga, I glance around to find an empty mat. There is only one: right in front of the instructor. I stride over, hanging my head low, to keep attention away from myself as everyone else strikes up a conversation with the people around them, whom of which they have known for three years.

The teacher blows a whistle, hushing everyone as they sit on their mats. She introduces herself. "My name is Larissa, and that's what I want you to call me."

I payed attention really well while Larissa went through her syllabus. At the end of the hour, I stood and approached Larissa. When I began speaking, she immediately cut me off. "How old are you? No offense, but I don't want to be best friends with a fourteen year old student that only wants to talk about nails and Starbucks."

"Oh," I said, "Uh, I'm eighteen and I don't paint my nails any color with the exception of black occasionally, and I don't drink Starbucks because I prefer Speedway coffee."

"I like you, kid. Are you straight?"

"What?" I asked, unknowing of what she meant. "I mean, I wouldn't consider myself square, but-"

"No, I mean your sexual orientation."

"Erm, I don't think that staff-and-student relationships are legal, and anyways, I am straighter than a stripper pole. Wait. Was that appropriate to say in front of a teacher? Sorry, I-"

"I'm not asking for me, but I know a guy for you. He likes Starbucks, but he only drinks the smoothies because he's a loser. He likes Twenty One Pilots, which I am assuming that you do too from your shirt," I looked down, not realizing that I was wearing their concert shirt from the Blurryface tour, "and he has a fetish with black nail polish."

"What's his name?"

"Oh, he's my brother, and his name is Paul."

"Paul?"

"Paul Zimmer? Here, I'll give you his phone number." She pulls her phone out of her bucket purse, and holds out her hand, requesting that I give her mine. She puts in two contacts: herself, and Paul. She gives me back my phone, and then the bell rings, right on cue.

The rest of the school day was a bust, the only exciting thing being that I left school with no homework. I rode the right bus and got off at the right stop. When I arrived home, my mother wasn't home, and neither was my father. I slid off my backpack and grabbed my laptop from my bedroom and brought it out to the couch. I powered it on and went to Google.

I hesitantly typed in Paul Zimmer, wanting to do my research before I texted Larissa's brother. When the results loaded, shocked didn't even describe my emotions.Three thoughts went through my head:

1.) Holy shit he is attractive.

2.) He has to have a girlfriend.

3.) I think that I am going to text him.

I whipped out my handy dandy cellular device and looked through my contacts until I came across "Paul Zimmer".

I texted him, and said "hi". Then I waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. Until I finally fell asleep.

I woke in the middle of the night to my phone vibrating. I peeked at the lockscreen to notice that Paul had texted me back. And he said "shit, did someone leak my number again?".

I bolted up and replied "oh, uh no. your sister, larisa gave it to me".

Then I waited again. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. Until I fell asleep. Again.

When I woke to get dressed for school, I saw that Paul had texted me back. "Oh! So you're the famous y/n?"