WARNING: Book ahead is pretty cliche and my first work on here. It's got plot holes and a main character you might want to beat with a stick. Be gentle lol
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In the technological world in which we live, most teens start their love lives thro...
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My world froze. Words stopped coming out of my mouth and I could find it in myself to only stare at the tall boy in front of me, my jaw hanging slack. He stared at me in shock himself, as if he couldn't believe those words just shot out of his mouth.
Well, that makes two of us, pal.
Pieces of the puzzle laid scattered across my mind, trying desperately to be put together so that I could make some sense of what just took place.
But it just wouldn't happen. Nothing about Shane screamed Oliver. But what other explanation could there be? He knew.
Nobody knew about Oliver except my friends. I never once mentioned it to him. I hardly ever saw Shane with a book in his hands; usually it was just a soccer ball. But maybe, just maybe, what I said so many weeks ago about him being a twisted version of Batman was actual fact.
He had a persona to keep up for the school, after all. I doubt he could walk around talking about obscure novels and still be classified as the coolest guy on the soccer team. Maybe in reality, the only person who knew about his secret love of reading was me.
For the first time since I began talking to Shane, I didn't feel the need to run when the rather awkward situation presented itself. I mean, seriously, if there was any time to be hoofing it in the other direction, that time would be right then and there.
But I couldn't even get my feet to budge.
A portion of me felt betrayal; another bit screamed confusion. And then, somewhere deep down, there was that small part that cheered; the small part that had nothing but adoration for the boy who wrote me letters and kept me company and happy without really even realizing it. That small little bit of me is what kept me rooted to the spot. I heard the bell ring and I was sure that Shane did as well, but neither of us made a motion to leave our spots. We just stared at each other in shock and silence.
I brought my hand to the bridge of my nose and rubbed the spot between my eyes, feeling a headache coming on. I had no idea what to think at that moment, none at all. My head throbbed and I could barely think.
What did this mean for Oliver and I?
You mean Shane and you.
I grimaced at my internal voice. Right. Shane and I.
Lifting my eyes a little, I sneaked in a glance at the now nervous looking soccer captain. One hand ran through his hair repeatedly and he seemed to be looking anywhere but me. I cocked my head to the side, studying him.
Okay, when he acted like this, imagining Shane as Oliver seemed a bit easy. Okay, maybe he isn't shy, but what if he just didn't want rejection? After all, if he knew I liked Oliver enough to talk to him for several weeks, then why wouldn't I like him, right?
