| 3 |
❝ How did the elevator describe his job? He said it had its ups and downs. ❞
START WITH SHANE, she supposed. Then she'd go down the list. Shane, then Malcolm, then Theodore. And if none of their handwriting matched up, well, she was screwed.
She had been acting on impulse; she didn't nearly think her plan through, and later on she realized it was cringe worthy, but she did what she thought would work.
She pretended to stumble into him in the hallway.
Shane had been conversing with some friends near his locker before class, and the bell was about to ring as the crowd dispersed. She saw him walking to a class with books and a notebook in his arms, all alone. Charlie needed to get to that notebook to see his handwriting, this was her only chance.
As she got progressively closer, she became more and more aware of how utterly moronic her plan was. Her pulse began to quicken with nerves and her hands began trembling with anxiety. Soon, she found herself just behind of him. She could smell the strong scent of his axe cologne, and crinkled her nose.
The hallway was empty. They were alone. It looked like he didn't realize she was there yet, probably because she had the quietest footsteps known to man, her boots muffling the sound of her walking. After a couple minutes of ferocious procrastinating, she finally made up her mind.
It was showtime.
She threw her books in front of the two of them and leapt onto Shane in an attempt to look like she tripped onto him by accident, kind of side-checking him. He stumbled a bit whereas she fell to the ground with a thud. Her books were everywhere, her body sprawled out on the linoleum flooring. A whimpy groan escaped her lips as she lay there.
Apparently he was nice. He dropped to the floor and set down his books, helping her up. Thank god, or she would look like a complete idiot, laying flat in her back on the white tiles, surrounded by her sprawled out books all alone.
"Are you okay?" he grunted out, kneeling on the floor beside her, his hands darting to stack her books.
In that moment, she could see why everyone fangirled over Shane Marshall.
He was going to be late to class because of her, since he was sweet enough to stop and help her pick up her books. And he did have extremely good looks.
His eyes caught her attention. They were big, hazel eyes, doe-looking and innocent, his eyelashes long and so pretty. It was so weird to call a boy's eyelashes pretty, but they were, she had no other words for them. His jawline was honestly perfect, making her gulp. His figure was tall, slightly towering over her, which was probably given since he played basketball. His muscles were slightly showing through his thin, dark colored, cotton t-shirt.
"Ermfnnthnk," she stuttered, not making any sense, staring at his eyes. They were captivating in a strange way, his eyes lazily scanning her body for injury. It made her shiver, being stared at like that.
"You're Charlotte, right? In my Algebra class?"
How did he know her name? Oh my word.
"Yeah. You're Shane?"
The bell rang, startling her and Shane.
"That's me," he stated, ignoring the bell and handing Charlie her books and chuckling. He flashed her a smile, making her a little woozy.
Whoa. Shane was talking to her. This was strange, to say the least, as she hadn't talked to anyone all year, yet right now the most popular guy in school was talking to her.
YOU ARE READING
A Note A DayTeen Fiction
Anxiety-ridden, nightmare expert Charlotte 'Charlie' Jackson has been receiving witty, heartwarming, anonymous notes since the beginning of the school year. One afternoon, Charlie notices she did not find a note for the first time all year and sudd...