Char by Mercy Amare Page B

relationship. I’m just sick of dating. I’m sick of heart break. I just want to be happy. But unfortunately for me, life isn’t a movie. I can’t read ahead on the script. And I don’t know how it’s going to end. Maybe my life is one big pathetic love story. Like Titanic. We hit an ice burg, and my dream guy dies trying to save me.
    A horn honks close by, and pulls me out of my fantasy. This is real life. And so far — reality sucks.
    “You know, you’re officially a resident of New York City now.”
    “I suppose. Sometimes I feel like I’m just visiting. But today was fun. I officially no longer hate New York,” I say.
    “And that was one of the five things you told me about yourself when we first met,” he says. “Since you no longer hate New York, it no longer counts. So now you have to tell me something else.”
    I think about his question. “My favorite colors are pink and white.”
    “That’s still lame. But good to know,” he says.
    “Also I am random. Like right now I’m thinking that I am sure my chances of surviving the apocalypse are like five in eight million.”
    “What makes you say that?”
    “Well, in every end of the world movie only like five people from New York City actually survives.”
    He laughs. “You’re so random. But I like it. So do you watch a lot of apocalyptic movies?”
    “Yes. My sister Chloe is obsessed with them,” I say. “She tried out to play a role in an upcoming zombie movie. I don’t know if she got the part yet, but she’s pretty excited. I hope she gets it.”
    “I’m sure she will. And I guess you’re right. The end of the world usually doesn’t go well for people in New York City,” he says. “You and I need to have a apocalyptic movie marathon. Whatever those people did right we will do.”
    “We’ll be the only two survivors in the city.”
    “And it will be our duty to repopulate the city.” He smiles. “You know, for the good of mankind.”
    “Of course,” I say. “For mankind…”
    “I knew it! You so want me.”
    “Totally. It’s all I think about.” I joke with him. “In fact, we should probably start practicing now.”
    “I love your idea.”
    “Thank you for today,” I tell him. “I needed that.”
    “You’re welcome, but it’s not like it was a chore to hang out with you all day. I had a lot of fun.”
    “Me too.”
    Tristan put his arm around me as we walked back to the limo. It’s then that I realize — I may not know what the future holds, and the ending may suck ass, but I’m going to enjoy my right now. Because right now is what I have.

MONDAY, AUGUST 19
    8am
    Day one of high class hell.

    The first day of school always sucks, but being at a new school makes it suck that much worse. The only person I really know is Christian. I have a feeling that today is going to be absolutely miserable.
    The last two weeks I have been hanging out with Tristan, which has been a lot of fun. But it doesn’t help me now. Because he’s at Columbia, on the Upper West Side. And I’m at East Wood, on the Upper East Side. And the reality is that I’m probably not going to see him that much. Now that he’s back at college, he’ll probably find some sorority chick and forget all about me.
    The uniforms for school actually aren’t so bad. I’m wearing a mini pleated skirt. It’s dark gray, cream, and dark blue. I’m also wearing a white button up shirt, a dark gray sweater vest, and a dark blue mini-tie. The ties are technically for the guys, but I wanted to wear one because it looks cute. I put on a pair of black, sparkly Toms, and then I take a picture and send it to Aaron.

    Me: Day 1 of high class hell.

    Aaron: Hot. Bring your uniform to the Hamptons on Labor Day. We are going to have some fun… Also, I think your hair is darker. What’s up with that?

    I look at my hair. I flat ironed it today, but he’s right. It is darker. Probably because I haven’t spent everyday in the sun.

    Me: Maybe I’ll hit up the