How to Trust Someone

Chapter 13 - Garrett

Three months ago: *Terminator voice* "I'll be back."

Three months later (as in now): *zombie noises* "I'm back from the dead."

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Chapter 13 - Garrett

It's Monday, I'm at school, and I'm exhausted.

Mondays suck. It's not the day itself, because I don't want to discriminate against Monday, the poor thing, but it's what happens on Mondays. The school system made Mondays the enemy. If only we didn't have school at all, Mondays would be just as appreciated as every other day of the week, if not more.

The only good thing about today is that I get to see Liz again.

Yeah, I like her. What about it? I'm a guy. I don't need to go through some sort of complicated checklist in my mind to see if I have all of the symptoms of a crush. I don't need days to make up my mind. I only need one day.

In other words, I spent all of Sunday thinking about how I feel about Liz. I also contemplated whether or not I should throw myself out the first floor window of my house. It would be just enough to break my leg - a valid excuse to miss school for a week or two.

I go through the motions of my first two classes of the day, neither of which I have with Liz. It's so weird to feel disappointed about not seeing her. If I would've even entertained the thought of missing her when I first met her, I would have probably tied a noose around my neck.

Okay, maybe that's a little extreme. But it gives a pretty good idea of how I felt about her when we first met.

The bell rings, signaling it's time for lunch. Mrs. Velasquez dismisses the class, and I'm pretty much the first one to get out of my seat. What can I say? I'm a growing guy and I need my food.

I'm making my way to the cafeteria, when out of nowhere, there's a low, almost seductive voice behind me. "Hey, Garrett."

I feel two fingers begin to tip-toe themselves up my arm and to my shoulder. I flinch and pull away, turning around to face the offender. I'm amazed by what I see.

Behind me is a brunette bombshell, for lack of a better term. She's well, hot.

"Have you ever met me before?" she asks, batting her eyelashes at me. Her long, thick, jet black eyelashes. I'm so mesmerized, I'm not even bothered that the entire student body is going to get their lunch before me.

"No," I say, kind of breathless. I feel like a dork, standing there and staring at this girl, not being smooth. Basically, being myself. But I feel like I can't be myself around this girl, even though I have no idea who she is.

She looks away for a second, and before she can notice, I give her a quick once-over. I know the school's dress code has a limit on the hemline of a skirt, but when I see what this girl is wearing on her legs, I wonder if there's a limit on how tight a pair of jeans is allowed to be. And how low-cut a shirt can be. And if a bra should be that obviously visible through said shirt.

When she turns back to me with a smirk, I realize that she's not really that attractive. Sure, she's sexy as hell. But she dresses like she makes money on a street corner, and she oozes this obnoxious confidence that make me want to puke. She has the looks, sure, but she doesn't have anything else going for her.

Maybe I'm just biased because I like someone else.

"Maybe we can get to know each other..." she trails off, drawing herself closer to me. She brushes her fingertips across my chest. But it doesn't make me nervous anymore. I just give her a flat look, which she doesn't seem to notice.