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Thursday morning, the day before Friday

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Thursday morning, the day before Friday. The day after I admitted I might just be able to tolerate Elijah Rivera. After six years.

Sitting in math class, my leg bounces under the table as I feel his presence behind me. Why? That's a big question I've been asking a lot lately.

He's sitting there doing his worksheet, I'm doing mine. So what's the big deal? He's not even bugging me for the first time in forever. But for some reason, I want him to. I want his attention. I never want attention. I never want his attention. It's humiliating.

The bell rings and I pack up my things before leaving the classroom. Heading to my locker, I exchange my Math for my English book like always. It's the same routine every single day and I'm so sick of it.

Shoving my binder into my locker, I knock my science book on the ground. Perfect.

Bending down to pick it up, I see shoes come up very close behind me. Whoever it is, tugs on the back of my skirt to pull it down. I quickly turn around only to relax when I see Elijah.

Well, that's new.

"You do realize you're wearing a skirt?" He looks down at it.

"Yes?"

"Okay. So do you realize skirts go up when you bend down?"

Oh, I forgot. How did I forget? "Of course," I lie with a shrug before turning around and grabbing my backpack before shutting my locker.

I spin only to realize Elijah still hasn't left, let alone backed away.

"Anything else?" I ask.

He hesitates. "How's your foot?"

"Um- walkable. I iced it yesterday as you said."

Why is this the most awkward conversation we've had?

"Good gir— good job," Elijah stutters over his words, shaking his head.

I have to bite my lips in order to keep my mouth closed. Feeling butterflies in my stomach, that was the last sign I needed.

"Bye—" "Yesterday—" we say at the same time.

I reluctantly nod, signaling him to continue. "Did I embarrass you at all? You left so quickly."

"You did not. I just- I do not know." I shrug.

"You do know," he states, making me furrow my brows.

"I do not."

"You do."

"I do not! It's just that," I hesitate and look around.

"Just what? You can talk to me, Lavender," Elijah comforts.

My head snaps towards him as my expression softens. He's so gentle with me. Why?

"Nobody has ever really talked to me like that," I admit.

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