PeterPan

2. A Decision Made

-Monday-

"Well at least you get over a week to decide. By the time you make up your mind, you may end up being an understudy, though."

"What?" I lift my head.

"Oh my god, Noel, you're a freaking bear." Jordan leans away like I'm some slobbering dog. "Quit hibernating. Look, you're practically drooling on your paper."

I peel myself off of my desk and stretch. "Ehhhh, I can't help it, I'm tired." I say, yawning.

"It's only 2nd Period! Also, quit it, you're going to catch flies."

I shrug. "More protein."

Jordan rolls her eyes. "Really, you sleep too much. Do you really need two part-time jobs? You're also in Theatre. Isn't that too much?"

All of these questions I've heard countless times before. "Exactly." I realize I haven't answered one question on my English page yet and get to work. "That's why I can't be in the musical. Brown-bags take up enough of my time already." I look up and smile at our teacher, who has begun eyeing us.

Jordan sighs. "That isn't the point I'm trying to make, but watching you makes me get the feeling that attempting to explain it to you is useless."

I yawn. "What was that?"

~~~
The rest of the day passes by as normal. Physics is a total bore, but that's what happens when you get Mrs. Gordon as a science teacher. We haven't done any interesting projects for weeks--just paper after paper of work that equates to rubbing a cheese-grater against your forehead. French is like any normal language class--relatively lax and consisting mostly of easy classwork. However, my English and Math teacher took it upon themselves to make up for this by piling homework onto the students. 

As if I need anymore chores added onto my daily schedule. 

"You're doing great as always, Noel." My PE Coach comments. Mr. Weston is 'a bit of' an intimidating guy, with his all-too-often blank expression and cool composure. It doesn't help that he's well built, although lean, with his arms crossed 90% of the time. Overall, he dominates a towering presence. "You're already well prepared for a new Track year. Just make sure not to push yourself too hard. Track season is still a ways away."

"Thanks, Coach!" I grin, rubbing the sweat off my face with my shirt. I make a point not to mention my considering not joining Track. He nods curtly. "Keep up the good work."

I shuffle to the pile of bags laying on the grass. I swipe at my knapsack, trying to avoid bending over as much as possible due to exhaustion, but miss. I groan and lean over and snatch it up, slinging it over my shoulder. I lift my shirt up to wipe my face again.

I stop and notice a boy staring at me. "Ah." I say, absent-mindedly. Sometimes I forget I'm a girl.

I instantly notice the boldness of his green eyes as we stare at each other for a while. After a few awkward moments, it occurs to me that maybe I should drop my shirt. 

Then: 

"It's a vortex."

I let my shirt fall. "Sorry?"

He swiftly exits the scene.

"Ah?" I pule, confused. "My Navel looks like what?" The boy has already ventured too far to hear. I don't recognize him from my class. 

I adjust my knapsack. "I already know I'm not cute." I mumble, swaying lazily as I reach down to pick up my water bottle. I uncap it and gulp half of it down in irritation, before coughing as I accidentally inhale some water.