Forevermore

Fourteen

Right. Ezra and I didn't talk much about the photo of us. Granted, there wasn't much to discuss, but still. It was an invasion of both our privacies.

I let out a sigh. "It was scary at first, but I feel better now. Especially since nothing has been posted since then."

Through my periphery, she nods. "That makes sense. I just hope karma..."

Her voice fades from my attention when we turn the hall and I feel someone's eyes on me. I glance up from the floor and instantly make eye contact with Ezra, who's at the end of the hall, walking in our direction. His eyes linger on my outfit before shooting back up.

Internally, I scream. Why is he everywhere?

He's with a guy from the baseball team that I also recognize from the few times he's been at my house.

Christian Liano.

His semi-formal fashion sense contrasts with Ezra's more casual style. Today, Christian is wearing a short-sleeve brown polo over black pants. He looks like he belongs in a different decade...or on a golf course. The part about him that sticks out the most, though, is the fact that he looks like a copy and paste young Heath Ledger. He even has the same smile as him.

Ezra, who's head is now turned back to his friend, is wearing a simple grey hoodie and blue jeans. He's listening attentively to Christian and for a moment I wish I was back at Atlanta when I was the one he paid attention to.

Then I wipe that foolish thought away.

"Did you finish the History homework?" Linh's voice brings me back to reality.

For a moment, my pulse quickens at the thought that I missed an assignment just like I feared I had all weekend.

Well, all weekend except that hours-long conversation with Ezra. I don't know what magic he possessed, but something about him calmed me down.

Why is everything reminding me of him? I seriously need to get a grip.

"Yeah, do you need to copy it down?" I ask.

"I'm sorry," she says sheepishly. "I seriously had no..."

Her voice fades out when I feel his eyes on me again. I look up to see him standing just a few feet away. My breath gets caught in my throat and I turn my head back towards Linh, trying to push away the sensation.

Only...as I turn my head, I see him give me one of those guy-nods that's basically they're version of a wave. And when I turn to wave back at him, he's already behind us, his attention back on Corbin.

A wave of embarassment hits me. That was my moment to show him how I feel and I missed it because of a poorly-timed wave.

He must be embarrassed too, since I basically gave him the cold shoulder.

What if he hates me now?

What if he uses all the things I talked about against me? Or leaked them to the press?

What if–

"Hey." Linh pulls me back to reality yet again when she bumps my shoulder with hers. "What's going on?"

"Just school." It's a half-truth. "Nothing to worry about though."

Despite my reassurance, she gives me a weary look. "Okay..." hesitance coats her voice. "But you know you can always talk to me, right?"

I smile at her. "I know."

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The next morning, I reread the math question on my online SAT prep worksheet a million times, trying to make sense of it. Math has never been my strong suit and I try to not let it get to me that I am struggling with these questions.

I whisper the question back to myself yet again, but this nonsense about Little's Law and these variables that the test-makers pull from who-knows-where are just not clicking.

My pulse jumps in my neck.

If I don't get these questions right, I'm going to fail the SAT's. I know that there are colleges out there that don't require SAT's, but it just feels wrong to not take them. Especially when my life is founded on the basis of academic validation.

When my breaths become shallow, I look at the time in the bottom corner of my desktop. 5:28 AM.

It's still dark outside, but a quick run wouldn't hurt.

Before I have a chance to second guess my choice, I'm changing into appropriate running attire. I leave through the front door, relishing in the cool air. Autumn is quickly approaching and I could really use some more of that cool weather.

As I take off jogging–in silence so that I can hear if someone comes up behind me–I can't help but replay the moment Ezra nodded at me yestersday morning. I'm not sure why I feel so guilty over such an insignificant moment, but I do. I feel as though I owe him an apology or something.

My feet naturally take me across the street until I'm in front of his house.

A quick sorry wouldn't hurt, right?

And then I run past it like the thought had never occured to me.