MOVED TO BROOKIEISMYNAME 'S ACCOUNT

(3) Zeya's POV

My head was pounding when I woke up the next morning. I forced myself out of bed and strolled over to the bathroom, searching for a bottle of aspirin. Taking the tablet, I walked back to my room. I was exhausted but I knew missing school would just make everything difficult.

Besides, I had a Precalculus test today.

I barely had enough time to hop into the shower and get ready before I had to head off to school. Luckily, I had left the house at about the same time I usually did. I wasn’t sure how it was going to go at school. My mind raced as hit the gas on my Mustang.  Adam?  Chelsea? Amanda?  What would they do?

Amanda wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed.  I could probably pull some vague story about getting cold feet about making out with Adam.

But what about Chelsea?  She was my best friend.  I could probably trust her.

I pulled into the parking lot to see the only open spot was next to Adam. He was sitting on the hood of his car, head-phones in his ears. When I slowly eased into the spot, he didn’t turn around, instead he just kept bobbing his head to the music. I got out of my car, took out my bag from the trunk, and cautiously walked over to him.

My feelings were mixed after yesterday.

He was hot, sure, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to be in a relationship with him, especially not after where his hands were going after one kiss.

“Hey,” he took out the headphones and smiled at me.

“Zeya!  Hey!”  I gave him a tight smile back and sat down next to him.  “So,” he cleared this throat, “what exactly happened?”

“What exactly happened?” I asked, playing dumb.  He threw me a look.

“You know. Me, you, kissing, me ending up in the tree,” he rubbed a nasty-looking bruise on the side of his head.

“I have no idea.  Surprised me as much as you.” I admitted truthfully.

“Hm. . . Zeya, I really am sorry for what happened.  I know it’s no excuse, but I did just get carried away.  It won’t happen again.”

“Its fine,” I grinned. He set his hand on my knee and I flinched.

“Sorry,” he apologized, throwing his hand away quickly. I jumped off his car and headed towards the school, passing by an odd looking motorcycle. I doubled back and looked again. I hadn’t seen it in the parking lot before.

I shrugged and ignored it, keeping myself going. I pushed past the crowd of talking kids and made my way towards my locker. I was gathering my books when someone slammed it shut.  I gasped in surprise, and turned around.

“So where did you disappear off to yesterday, missy?” Chelsea asked with a grin; Amanda came up behind her. I tried to ignore them by walking away to class, but I remembered that Chelsea had biology with me. “So what happened?” she asked again, as Amanda headed off to math.

“Uhm . . . My grandmother hurt her hip and I had to take her to the hospital.” I hoped the half-truth would convince her.

“Oh, come on! Something happened!” Chelsea pushed. “If your grandmother had hurt her hip, why didn’t your mom just pick her up?  Hmm?  Was it something to do with Adam?  We found him sitting on the curb holding his head, and he didn’t say anything about what happened.”

“Ok, ok! We had . . . um . . . we kissed” I disappeared into the biology lab.

“You what?!” Chelsea shrieked, storming in after me, eyes wide with astonishment.

“Miss Morgan,” Mr. Johnson snapped, an unhappy frown on his otherwise emotionless face. “Keep your voice down!”

“Sorry, sir,” Chelsea responded automatically, not even bothering to look at him.  She leapt into the chair next to me.  “Kiss! You kissed the hottest guy in school?” She glanced around the room, grinned, and lowered her voice. “Was that . . . all you did?”

“What? Chelsea! Come on!” I said, trying to cover my nervousness at how close she was.

“What? I was just checking!” She winked at me as the bell rang. “I can’t wait to tell Amanda! It sucks that she's in math this period.” I just shook my head as the class quieted.

Mr. Johnson began drawing a diagram on the board of a prokaryotic cell.  We copied it down in our books.   

“Now if you’ll direct your attention to the back of the room at the projector example,” he said when he was finished.  I swiveled around in my chair, and nearly died of shock.   

The guy from outside the restaurant was casually sitting behind me, ignoring Mr. Johnson’s instructions as he stared straight at me.  I turned back to my book as quickly as I could, my cheeks flaming.

I could feel his gaze on my back as I tried to copy off what Chelsea was writing down.

Coincidence?  I wasn’t sure.

But, God, was he cute!