A Ripple Between **CURRENTLY EDITING**

5- The Commons

A few days later, I was sitting in the Commons after school. I was waiting for my mom to pick me up, as I still didn't have my license. Even though I was supposed to be doing homework, I had given up a while ago. My mind wouldn't concentrate. So I was staring off into space, listening to music through my headphones.

I had always loved any kind of music, but at the moment I was jamming out to my country playlist. Well, sort-of. Jamming wasn't exactly the right word, as the melodically heart-wrenching notes of "Colder Weather" by the Zac Brown Band drifted to my ears. I was about to change it to a happier song when it had first come on, but I decided to leave it. I was in a serene mood; nothing could make me super-hyped, nothing could drag me down. Or so I thought.

I felt hands on my shoulders and jumped, turning around to find none other than PJ Foster behind me, laughing.

"Gotcha."

I rolled my eyes and turned around. "How long have you been behind me?" I asked, not bothering to look back at him.

"Long enough to know that you're listening to one of the saddest songs in the history of country music," he replied, sitting down in the chair next to me at my table. He moved my backpack so he could talk to me directly.

"And how long is that?"

He flinched slightly, looking around before grinning and putting a finger to his lips. "Are you trying to make people in here deaf?"

I shut my music off and looked over at him, now sufficiently annoyed.

"Ooh, she's not very happy this afternoon," he annoyingly pointed out.

"Since you got here, yes, I've become pretty unlikeable."

"So what is it? Depressed? Drama? Bad break-up memories? Girl issues?"

"Ok," I said, having to laugh. "What is your problem?"

"Are you mad at me or something?" he asked, suddenly becoming serious.

"What... why?"

"Just answer."

"No! Why would I be mad?"

"I don't know. Because... Never mind. You just seemed like you don't want to talk to me."

You have no idea... I thought. Every time I talked to or even looked at him, I just got this funny feeling in my stomach that refused to go away. Yesterday, Beth and I had been walking down the stairs and he'd passed us, and I completely forgot what I'd just been saying to Beth, right in the middle of my sentence. She thought it was the cutest thing she'd seen; I thought: I need serious help. I needed to get him out of my head. I was being delusional. I never had a chance with him. He talked to me because he had to, or, recently, to make sure I was ok. Nothing more.

"Do you want me to leave?" he asked. I must've looked upset while trapped in thought.

"No, I mean, unless you want to, but no, but if you want you can." What? What was I saying? Was I now dumb and delusional? If I kept stuttering like this I was going to go die in a hole.

PJ just smiled that stupid smile of his and looked down at my abandoned copybook. He picked it up and started picking through it absentmindedly. I paid him no attention until he tapped my shoulder and I looked up, one of my doodles from just two days ago looking back at me from my chem copybook. It was a very realistic-looking eye, one doodle that I'd been very proud of. Unfortunately, the person holding it was also the person who inspired the doodle in the first place.

He held it up, comparing it to his own eyes. He showed it to me next to his face.

"Is there a resemblance here, or am I seeing things?"