The Girl Who Wore Jordans

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Three

      “So, I’ll see you in English class?” he questioned, biting the edge of his lip shyly.

      “I’m not really one to ditch class, so, yeah, I’ll be there,” I assured him.

      “Sorry, that was stupid of me,” he laughed nervously.

      “It’s fine, Eric,” I rolled my eyes playfully, aware that we were being scrutinized by three girls in particular who were by no means on their ways to becoming the next James Bonds with the amount of discreteness they were retaining.

      “Well, I guess that I should get to homeroom now, shouldn’t I?” he questioned, though it wasn’t the type of thing that was meant to be answered.

      “I guess,” I shrugged simply.

      “I’m being annoying right now, aren’t I?” he took a step towards me.

      “Just a little bit,” I pinched my fingers to show the amount of provocation with which he was showering me.

      “Sorry,” he apologized.

      “It’s fine, Eric!” I laughed, not used to his evident timidity.

      “Okay, I’m going to go now,” he proclaimed, but not before capturing my lips with a light peck, a sweet smile forming on both our faces after the small scale of PDA we had exhibited.

      “Bye, Eric,” I bid, as he slowly moved away from the doorframe, allowing me to return back to my alleged “friends” who would’ve gotten kicked out of the CIA in the first twelve minutes of training with their spy skills.

      “Elizabeth whatever the hell your middle name is Turner!” Tara squealed upon my return.

      “What?” I groaned. “Oh, and it’s Abigail.”

      “What is?” Lauren piped, her eyes almost as large as Tara’s.

      “My middle name,” I supplied.

      “Oh, well, you’re seriously the luckiest girl in the world, and you and Eric make the cutest couple I have ever seen!” Tara carried on to practically screech.

      “Um, thanks,” I said, as Lauren nodded along, agreeing completely with Tara’s analysis.

      “You two are going to make the most beautiful babies, like, ever! I’m talking Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt beautiful!” Lauren said, as she and Tara then burst into a fit of giggles that demoted their ages to at least twelve, momentarily. “Don’t you think so, Alice?”

      “Being the levelheaded one in the group, I think that it’s my obligation to say that we’re in high school, and you need to turn it down a few notches,” Alice said, managing to only deflate Tara and Lauren’s fantasies marginally. She too couldn’t hide the grin on her face, though I wasn’t sure if it was from watching my exchange with Eric, or from her own encounter a few minutes prior with another certain boy who possessed popularity—namely, Alex Campbell.

      “Oh, shut up!” Lauren flicked her playfully. “Seriously, Alice? Liz was already nominated for prom queen, she’s dating Eric Wilson, and her life happens to be perfect. Don’t try to crush our realistic dreams!”

      “Wait, what about prom queen?” I said after mentally dissecting her words.

      “You were nominated,” Tara stated.

      “Who the fuck nominated me?” I demanded, wondering who would actually be so cruel as to pull such a heinous “practical” joke, though there was absolutely nothing practical about it. It was downright vindictive.