It's Just Us [🗸]

our hurt

i've been watching way too much glee lately, lmao

anyways, here's our next semi-angsty chapter-

***

JAMES

He won't talk to me.

Won't even fucking look at me.

The last few minutes of class click away until lunch. And all I can do is continue clicking away at my pen as the seconds go by. It's English class. I should be having a good time, I should be way more engaged than I am right now, but all I can do is glance down at my desk, check the time, wait for the day to be over.

Last class was one of the classes Will and I have together, and when he walked into the room, he walked all the way to the other side of the classroom. I should've been paying attention to Mr. Walker, but all I was doing was staring at the back of Will's head, wanting him to turn around, when I knew he wouldn't.

I'm not exactly sure how he got home from the party, but I'm guessing he hitched a ride with Kayla or someone. I know he wasn't about to go home with me, not when I saw the hurt that flashed across his face when everything came crashing down.

The bell rings, startling me out of my thoughts. The rest of the class starts to rise from their seats, and I do too, shuffling all my shit into one pile before shoving them into my backpack, and throwing it over my shoulders.

I make my way out of the class, eyes drifted downwards, hands gripping the straps of my backpack, and I'm almost out the door when I hear someone call out my name.

Ms. Ingram stands behind me, head tilted to the side, glasses as round and as huge as ever and mouth drawn into a line.

"Hi Ms. Ingram," I come to a halt, and glance at her, trying to lift my voice and meet her eyes.

She gives me her usual tight lipped yet somehow sincere smile, brown eyes carefully analyzing me. 

"Hello James," she adjusts her glasses, "how's your progress on your poem so far?"

Right. I purse my lips before speaking up, "I've gotten a good amount of work done," that's true, "still just finishing everything up." A half smile slides onto my lips. One that doesn't quite lift my spirits.

Ms. Ingram gives me a slow nod. "Alright. Well, I can't wait to see you onstage in a couple of weeks." 

I nod back at her. Fuck, it feels like forever ago since she first introduced Unspoken Voices earlier this year. I think back to my journal's messy pages and tilt my head to the side. I definitely still have some edits to make.

The plan was to finish everything with Will. He'd laugh, give me some half-good suggestions, and we'd prop ourselves up on the couch, ideas flowing while I scribble insanely. But now, that's out of the question. Completely. There's no way it's happening, not when I can barely get him to glance my way. I bite my bottom lip, trying to prevent myself from frowning.