INT: A BEDROOM. NIGHT.
JOEY, a teenage boy, is lying in his bed, trying to go to sleep.
Oh hey, brain. What's up. How about you actually turn off for once? It's not a big deal, but I have an AP History test tomorrow and yeah, it's going to be the worst on four hours of sleep. Wait.
Three hours and forty-seven minutes. Do I know everything about the New Deal? Crap, do I know all of the acronyms? CCC is the Civilian Conscription Corps. Is that right? Conscription? Conversion? Well, this is off to a stellar start. Okay, okay, CWA is the Civil Works Administration and—I wonder what time Claire is taking the test tomorrow. I could offer to go over notes with her beforehand. Or I could kill myself, because it's going to be seven in the morning and she's going to think I'm such a huge spaz. Which I am.
Maybe…maybe if I'm just hanging out in front of the testing center early, concentrating on my notes. That worked outside her math class. She said hi to me and sat down, right? That's a good sign. Or it's a sign that she's a person and I am a moron.
Oh god, and then she asked me if I was going to go to the cafeteria for lunch and I said "Is your face going to the cafeteria for lunch?" and it was the actual dumbest thing anyone could have said to anyone else in the entire history of the universe. And she was like "Eh—heh." And, god—
(Rolls over and punches the wall, hard)
Ow. So, ow. That was stupid. And why am I thinking about this right now? Why can I not just go to sleep? Brain, you have ten seconds to shut off, and if you think about anything else embarrassing I will go chug cough syrup until you stop bothering me.
(A long moment of silence)
I wonder if I should text Claire. Maybe she's awake.
(With a groan)