The words echo in my mind the rest of the day. I slowly tap a number two pencil on the wooden desk, watching my fingers hold the wooden writing utensil while not really watching it. He likes me. He finally admits that he thinks I am sweet, he thinks I am cute; he thinks I am someone special.
Here he comes, keep your cool.
“Hey,” he says, slipping into the seat in front of me. I stop tapping my pencil and wait for him to continue. He clears his throat, a sure sign that he’s nervous. A fluttery feeling passes through my stomach. He’s nervous around me. “I just, well, I was wondering,” he said. I waited. He took a long pause and a deep breath. “Would you like to go out tomorrow to eat or see a movie?”
Would I? I watch his reaction to my silence, thinking through my answer. Why go see a movie when I wouldn’t be able to see him in the darkness? Why would I want to go eat with him if food would prevent us from speaking?
“Or we could do something else,” he quickly adds. I smile slightly.
“Get back to me when you’re sure of it,” I say, feeling way too confident. He nods and smiles, licking his lips once before he sighs.
“Alright,” he says, “I guess I’ll see you at lunch?” I nod. He stands up and returns to his desk. I pick up where I left off, tapping my pencil on the tabletop.
The bell rings and everyone stands up to leave, moving in between the rows of desks and towards the doors. The teacher reminds them about their four day weekend; I don't include myself with them. I gather my stuff and slide my backpack on my shoulder, the weight of it is slowing me down. He has stayed.
“Can I walk you to your next class?” he asks me. I look into his brown eyes and smile. I raise my eyebrows at him questioningly and he hurries over. He takes my backpack off my shoulder and onto his broad one. “Shall we?” he asks, extending his elbow. I smile again and link my arm with his.
I get looks from my friends as he walks me to my class. I wish they were looks of envy instead of rage. He can be nice. He’s only ever nice with me. I don’t believe the rumors. He’s a good person.
He moves his arm so that he ends up holding my hand. We’ve stopped at my class. I look down at our hands and think. He actually wants to go out with me. He really does. It makes no sense. He can have any girl in school yet he picks me. Is this real or am I just daydreaming? I look up at his face and he’s smiling at me, a dimple on the lower left of his cheek. I reach up and touch his face, getting on my tippy toes and kissing his dimple. I stand right again and lower my hand. I have to make sure he likes me and I’m not falling into some trap.
“How about a walk?” I ask, “Tomorrow night; at the park.” He doesn’t let go of my hand and brings himself closer to me.
“That sounds perfect,” he says, breathing in my face. His breath smells like peppermint gum and oranges. “You’re not easy to catch.” I look up at him and I’m sure I look like I’m scrutinizing his face. I’m suspicious. He’s been trying to catch me, well, I’m not caught yet.
“No, I’m not,” I say. He looks at me with a question on his lips but I cut him off. “You don’t have me yet.” His eyes soften and that makes my heart beat faster.
“What can I do,” he started, leaning so close he touched our foreheads, “to change that?” I’m not fazed. I smile wide and just as the bell rings I answer.
“Flirt with me.”
A/N: This is part of a short story I wrote before. It'll be in the same folder as the other story in a small compilation I'm calling "Unorthodox Order" because I'm writing pieces of the whole story in my free time. It's also not in order by submission. In other words, I'll give you a hint: this part of the story came before "There's No Need To Yell". Another hint, "There's No Need To Yell" is the last part of the compilation. :]
