The Boy Without A Name

Chapter Seven

"Write a poem based on your first love. You can come up with either a sonnet, an ode, a senryu or you're free to choose from any style, as long as it is within the competition's guidelines. If you have any queries, feel free to contact Mrs.Gulliver. All the best!" Emmett read it in an excited voice.

"That sounds like fun, Em. But, it is due today. How will you ever submit one?" Gwen questioned curiously as she took a bite of her sandwich.

"That is not an issue, Gwen. I will come up with something, this competition means a lot to me and I think I will be writing a sonnet, or maybe a haiku? I don't really know." He rambled off, too lost in his thoughts to look at his best friend.

"Em, seriously, look at me. Stop stressing out, okay? I am not doubting your capabilities, it's just that lately, you have been distracted by...Denver and-"

"For God's sake, Gwen, he is not a distraction. When will you ever stop judging me because of my genuine feelings towards him, huh?" He retorted  before heavily sighing.

"You know what, Em? You are an absolute arse and just because I can put up with you, doesn't mean that you will treat me like some worthless dummy, yeah? Just piss off, I don't bloody care." She exclaimed loudly before storming away.

"Gwen, Gwen, wait!" Emmett called out but he couldn't follow after the aggravated girl given his apprehension. He loathed himself for lashing out like that, but this whole ordeal was just nerve-racking, especially given the fact that he was supposed to write a poem about him.

Instead of panicking over, Emmett packed up his scattered things, glanced at his surroundings given the fact that he was in his school canteen and rushed towards the direction of the library. As soon as he reached the aforementioned place, he requested to use the computer from the stern-looking librarian, who was on the verge of a mental breakdown seemingly, as she was busy typing something on her laptop, too concentrated to pay any attention to an overwhelmed Emmett. With a frustrated groan, the clumsy boy reached for the nearest computer as he rummaged through his backpack for his journal. After shuffling through the pages of his doodled journal for some time, Emmett was unable to come up with anything. It was a hard deal indeed since poetry required an immensely focussed mind, and Emmett wasn't sure if he could focus.

He deliberately debated with himself, when he finally had enough of his uninspired mind as he furiously started to type something on the keyboard of the computer. As soon as he got the gist of whatever it was that he was writing or at least trying, he wrote it down in his notebook. After a few minutes, Emmett exhaled in relief as he glanced at the words, which were all a jumbled mess in his opinion but he still had something. Concentrating further on Denver's face as he pushed himself further to reminisce about the day that the boy had supposedly smiled at him, Emmett recollected the words and on a fresh piece of paper, whilst referring to his notes, he finished it off with a relieved sigh. As soon as he had dropped his pen, he picked the sheet of paper and quickly read through the lines before hurriedly packing his stuff into his backpack. As he left the library, he mulled over these thoughts before ridding himself of the hesitation as he swiftly made his way to the theatre room.

Since it was desolated, he knew that he wouldn't be caught doing what he always did, especially with her. He patiently waited, seemingly humming to a catchy tune whilst wandering in between the several rows of decked up furniture, all bearing the theme of their future enactment of Shakespeare's Macbeth, something he was eagerly looking forward to. But before he could delve into his reasons for being so exhilarated, he was interrupted.

"What do ya want?"

"Nice to see you, too, by the way." Emmett rolled his eyes but offered her a smile.