My eyes fade into my sleep as the television lights up the room and Chelsea Lately's voice fills my ears. Just as I am about to drift off into my made-up dream world, my phone starts to vibrate and Britney Spears' voice clashes with the television. I grab my phone and open the text message to stop my phone from singing.
New text from: Tyler: 'Hey.'
Really?, I think to myself. It is 11:19 at night on the dot, and he wants to have a conversation? I hit the end button on my phone to close the text message and roll over and fall asleep.



Not only is it Monday today, it is eight in the morning, forty-three degrees outside, and I am three minutes late to school, for the sixth time this quarter. I grip the doorknob to the art class and my eyes roll as I see a couple next to me pushed up against the rusted lockers playing tongue hockey with one another. Get a room. I walk to my table, table number four. The table of slackers and teenage kids who only want to talk to each other about weekend plans and other teenagers in the school. The table that the teacher has to yell at three times a day, at the least.

The table where Tyler sits to my right and gives me a dirty look as he says, “Thanks for textin' me back last night, too good for me?”

I give him my, “it's-Monday-and-to-early-for-your-attitude”, look. This class is such a joke. Art? We are still doing art? This is high school. Not the fourth grade. I'm a junior, not a little kid. I pull my phone out of my pocket and text back Kyle. Kyle is a kid in my grade, who I sadly have a little crush on.

“Oh, you text him back but not me?” Tyler questions.

“Wow, quit the complaining and act like a normal eighteen year old please, it was late last night and I was half asleep”, my attitude shows in my words as I snap back at him.

For the rest of the fifty-six minute class, I doodle my name in different fonts and scatter random drawings of different shapes on my paper. I can feel Mrs. Richardson's eyes burn through the back of my skull as I attempt to secretly text Kyle back. I look up at the clock every now and then and count down the minutes left until English 11.

“So what are you doing after school?” Tyler says, attempting to start a conversation.

“Sleeping, in detention,” I draw a star in the corner of my paper as I reply.

“Why do you have detention?”

“Tardy.” I answer. The bell rings so I grab my purse and crumble my paper and throw it into the trashcan.

English flies by, listening to Mr. Shaffer isn't too difficult when he is the hottest teacher in the school. Right out of college, he can't be older than 24. He only has 8 years on me, maybe I have a chance. No, Kayla, what are you thinking? You're sixteen years old, a junior and high school, and you don't even have enough money in your wallet to pay for your lunch today. You are not mature enough to date an older man. A very hot, hot older man. Snap out of it. The bell rings and I come back to reality and leave the classroom.

My stomach starts to make noises during third period, everyone looks at me as I slump back in my chair and tell my stomach to shut up, like it will respond. I rest my head on top of my Algebra 2 book and try to keep my eyes open as my teacher lectures about slope-intercept equations and linear combinations. Soon enough, I'm back in my dream world until the bell wakes me. I sit up quickly as drool drips off the corner of my bottom lip, hoping my teacher didn't see me.

I receive a text during lunch from Tyler, I only text back because I know he sits two tables behind me, and could see me if I denied his text.

Fourth period, time for study hall. Tyler pulls me aside in class and asks me to talk to him because he says he needs to 'Tell me something'.

“What?” I say annoyed.

“Do you have a problem with me?” Tyler questions.

“No, I'm just tired today and I have a pounding head-”

Tyler stops me in mid-sentence and awkwardly places his lips against my forehead and then he backs away.

“What was that for?” Now I'm the one questioning him.

“I like you, okay?” Tyler says. Although I am perfectly informed that Tyler likes me, considering it is obvious and his best friend Katie constantly tells me, I play dumb. My best act.

“Oh, okay.” I grab my book off of the desk and walk over to the teacher and ask for a pass to the library.

I pace the aisles in the library searching for a book or at least a magazine to get my mind off of what just happened. I pick up last months issue of Seventeen Magazine, sit down on the couch and throw my feet up on the table in front of me.

New text from: Tyler. “Sry, jus had to tell you.”

I send a text back: '”Its ok, it was just a little unexpected ha.”

I lied, it's not okay, it’s awkward. It was not unexpected; I knew about his little kindergarten crush.

New text from: Tyler, “Where did you go?”

I send a text back: “The library.”

Hoping he won't show up in the library in the next five minutes, I get back to reading my magazine. Correction: Attempting to read my magazine, now that I can't concentrate.

Luckily, Tyler stays in study hall, probably planning on what he will say to me in the next text I receive or when he awkwardly pulls me aside again.

Here I come science. I sit in the back of the class and sit my books in a high stack on my desk and pull my phone out of my pocket. By know I am questioning my physic abilities because I receive another text.

New text from: Tyler: “Would u ever date me? Im a good guy, Ive never cheated, I would treat u well, promise. Do u like me? Do u like anyone?”

What is this, twenty questions? Why is he acting like a thirteen year old who just realized girls don't really have cooties.

I send a text back: “First of all, calm down. Too many questions. Second of all, u just told me u liked me, do u just expect me to like you instantly? Third of all, I dont date. Im 16, and in high school. Those relationships go nowhere.”

I lie again, I do like someone, I like Kyle. Not Tyler.

Tyler spends the next nineteen minutes trying to convince me that dating isn't a bad thing, and that I should at least give him one shot with me. Between sixteen sent, and received texts, I convince Tyler that I don't want a relationship in high school due to my plans when I graduate. I tell him since we are in different grades and he will graduate soon, a relationship just won't work between us.

I then spend the next eleven minutes figuring out how I would have a relationship with Kyle without Tyler finding out. I'm sixteen years old, and I feel like I'm having an affair. I should be worrying about making it home with no gas in my tank.


Detention sucks. I go through a bottle of water in ten minutes, and hurry to the detention teacher for a bathroom pass before I wet my pants. I stall in the bathroom, fixing my eyeliner and adjusting the bobby pins holding my bangs back. I get back to the classroom; make my entrance by slamming the door behind me. Wow, three minutes. I only stalled three minutes? Oh well, forty-seven minutes left, and then I get to go home and sleep.

I decide to text Kyle for the rest of detention, we make plans to hang out tomorrow after school, hopefully Tyler doesn’t find out. Although, I’m sure he will. There is no such thing as a secret at William High School.


For the next few weeks Kyle and I hang out as if we were attached at the hip. Monday through Friday, after school, and Saturday during the day and night. Sundays were our break days. Tyler would try to sneak a peak at who I was texting during art, knowing he would see Kyle’s name on my phone. I would wait until next period for Tyler to text me and tell me he knew I liked Kyle and I shouldn’t have lied about not dating. He then goes on to tell me he barely liked me and doesn’t really care that Kyle and I are, in high school language, “together”. No labels, no boyfriend and girlfriend labels. Which, I know that Tyler does care; maybe he should practice what he preaches and quit lying.

It was on a Friday when Kyle and I switched labels. We were at my house watching Forest Gump, but the title of the movie and where we were in this situation are the last things that matter in this story. We sat close on my couch and his hand rested on my thigh.

“Hey Kayla?” I could here in his voice he was nervous.

“Yeah Kyle?” I tried to hold my smile. I had a feeling he was finally going to ask me to be his girlfriend.

“Uh, never mind.”

“No, tell me” I demand to know what he was going to say. I slide my hand over his and entangle my fingers into his.