Oh Here It Goes Again

   So I’ve been neglecting to write at all and a lot has happened to catch up on. I’ll need to be fairly brief, since I’m writing this during my European History class, so here we go.
    I got over my ear infection, things are staying back where they’re supposed to now.
    My charger got fixed, I got my laptop back, my charger fried again this weekend and will have to order a new one. However, my laptop still seems to be partly at fault.
    I tried not to talk my way out of All-State Chorus Screenings (namely because I’m 4th alternate, so what’s the point, right?) and in return was told that I am “self-centered” and that it genuinely “doesn’t matter if it makes you happy or not” (so says my director.) Personally, that pisses me off like whoa. It is an extracurricular thing and should matter entirely in relation to my desire for it. So I was dreading going, and true enough I spent four and a half hours sitting in an audotorium, running on only an instant shake for breakfast and half a bag of tasteless popcorn, waiting to be called to go sing. The chairs were uncomfortable, I was nervous, and there was a basketball tournament going on in the next room over, filling the lobby and audotorium with the smell of sweaty socks and gooey concession stand food.
   All in all, it was a miserable undertaking but for one notable uplift. If I were to have described, previously, my “ideal guy,” sauntering into screenings, I saw him. “Well that’s fun, at least I shall have a nice view,” I think to myself until I end up in line with him. We talked a bit (rather I talked and he stammered in the most endearing of ways and fidgetted and blushed) about the music, voice parts, waiting, etc. All in all, it wasn’t so long, but standing in such close proxy to him, I could better appreciate the acute loveliness of his bone structure (his long nose and strong jaw accented by the sharp geometry of his “emo” glasses, countered by the shape of his eyes and the soft, feminine or perhaps even feline curl of his lips) and even so much as his smell. I’m not sure if it was some form of cologne or whatever, perhaps just his natural scent, but he smelled like drying herbs in a wooden house. Maybe that’s an obscure reference, but he smelled like good woodwork, spices, musk, and flowers, and more than anything I wanted to just hang around him. Instead, for four and a half hours, we played glance-tag (he glances at me, I glance at him, we blush, we look away) and I gushed in an uncharacteristically girly fashion to my mother. Soonafter, I discover that his mother is occupying the chair directly behind mine, and has thus heard me so graciously describe very countour of her son’s face, down his gorgeous sawn neck and storkish shoulders right to the accent to his hips and legs (among other things in such proximity) granted by his snugly-fitted jeans. She seemed chiefly amused and continually called him up just behind me as if trying to force him into conversation with me to no avail. I was afraid I had misinterpretted signals, and he was too shy, and thus neither of us has the other’s phone number or email, or anything of the sort. He doesn’t know my name, and I know his only be eavesdropping. (Naturally he would just-so-happen to share the same name as my biological father. How awkward! How many people are called Trey!?) I glanced on the All-State site later that day, just to see if I could determine whether or not he’d be in my choir in the unlikely event I got to go, and he was. From that I was also able to learn what school he goes to, though it is a bit of a way off. And so, I feel almost certain this is the end of the story, at least ’til April and All-State, by which point I likely wouldn’t be of interest to him and we’d both be too rushed to even exchange another of those awkward glances and giggles.
   It would appear I am mistaken.
   Upon further gushing to one of my best friends (who is an intense band dork,) she lights up as soon as I so much as breathe the name of his school. “I have a ton of friends at M- High!” she squeals. “From band clinic! I have friends in the music department! I bet one of them knows him!!” …Oh dear. I made her promise no names or clear descriptions, but it would seem she is bound and determined to… “hook me up.” I’m not sure if I should be excited or purely dreading it.
   All the same, he was lovely…