While We're Young (Marianas Trench)

Chapter 2

(Apartment diagram above)

I contemplate texting Josh. This is something I never thought would happen but, lo and behold, it did. Why should I text him? It was kind of rude of him to just leave his number on my arm like that. He could have at least found a scrap piece of paper! But it was also kind of charming . . . Out of the blue, unexpected, so rude, but charming. Crap! Now I have to text him, he made it impossible not to.

Hey, this is the girl you said you wanted to prove yourself to. My name's Alexis Durnham and my address is 2315 Sockton lane, apt. 403. Please don't be an axe murderer ~A

I know I will regret this. Maybe it's not his number? Maybe he's not awake? Maybe he won't text back? Maybe he's changed his mind? Maybe— **ding**

Hi Alexis, you already know this is Josh so I'm just gonna say I'll be there at 8 am tomorrow morning. I'm not a murderer of any kind, I kill all my enemies with kindness ;p ~J

8 in the morning!? Why so early? Does he not need sleep? Maybe he's a vampire . . . At this point, nothing would surprise me. Imagine, he shows up tomorrow morning and I'm dead before the sun even rises! But then again, he just said he's not a murderer . . . I have to admit, I laughed a little at the 'I kill my enemies with kindness' bit. He's pretty funny. Even at the concert, I was laughing at his jokes, not that I'd ever tell him that.

I glance at the time, it's 1 am. If he's coming at 8 that means I have to wake up at at least 7. That's less than 6 hours of sleep, even if I go to bed right now. I guess I'll just have to deal with it.

*****

My alarm sounds at 6:45 and I slide it off, rubbing my tired eyes. Time to get ready for a day with Josh. I already know how it's going to end: he'll offer to pay for my side of the bill, insist even, but I'll decline. Then he'll ask me a thousand questions and I'll answer each of them carefully, making sure to guard my secrets. Next, he'll try to kiss me, making a fuss when I turn my head away. He won't understand why I refuse to give in to his egotistical air of perfection, because he's rich and always gets what he wants. Finally, I'll ask him to drive me home, awkwardly, because he wouldn't let me take my own car out for the day. He'll drop me off, apologize—insincerely—and proceed to text me how sorry and what an idiot he is for the next three days. Then I'll block his number and we'll never speak again, and he'll forget me because I'm just some girl he met on tour.

I roll out of bed and meander into the bathroom. I wash my face and pull my hair back into a cheater's bun (if you don't know what this is, it's when you're too lazy to twist your hair into a circle so you tie it in a ponytail, but on the last pull through, you leave the end tucked in). Then I apply some mascara and eyeliner, so as to not look so tired and dishevelled.

I walk back into my bedroom and open the closet, desperate to find something casual but nice to wear. I don't want to over, or probably more likely, underdress. I pull out a white tank top and dark wash jeans, pairing a grey cardigan with it. I shove my feet into a pair of black converse and grab my purse. It's quarter to 8, so I wait by the buzzer, hoping that doesn't make me seem like a creep.

Just as I'm remembering that I forgot my wallet, keys and sunglasses, the buzzer goes off. "Hello," I answer, praying that I wasn't too quick. "I forgot to grab a few things, so I'll buzz you in. My door's unlocked." I press the 'main door' button and race into my bedroom. A minute later I hear the door click open.

"Honey, I'm home!" Josh's voice echoes through my apartment. "Nice place," I turn back into the living room just as Josh picks up a picture frame. "Is this Libbey?" He points at her and I nod, taking the photo and setting it back on the table.