For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, and for these two, their lives have been planned down to a science.
For Wylan Olson, being yourself can be very stressful. Since she was young, her emotions have always been backwards. The e...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I knew I had a lot of explaining to do, but I was going to avoid the subject for as long as possible. My hiatus wasn't very long thanks to Kwame. It probably lasted a day.
I walked into my class, taken a seat, and screwed my eyes shut. I figured that I probably had some sort of grimace on my face and looked as if I was in pain, so I pulled my jacket over my head. Maybe Kwame wouldn't bother me if he thought I was napping.
My mother had forced me into a skirt this morning, so that was one reason to cry. "Wylan, we need to talk." I heard someone say as I rolled my eyes internally.
So much for the nap angle, "Your call could not be completed as dialed, please leave a message after the tone." I said, frowning. The sound of the intercom came through the airways and I groaned.
"The operator is always available." Oh school, wherefore is your mission to slay my righteous intentions? He grinned, picking up my jacket as I gave a gleaming smile. "Someone is a happy camper," he said, and I laughed.
"Yep, you will see just how happy I am when I shove my foot down your throat," I threatened just as the room went silent. Nobody looked at the flag as they said the pledge. They all gave amused glances in my direction.
"You're too short to reach that high, Wylan. Stop lying to yourself."
At that moment, I became very amused by his smile. I loved it so much. It always got my attention and gave me a warm sensation, which one would say, was love, but I always repelled. I denoted it as my calling to be a dental assistant. I love teeth, not this boy.
"Yep," I said and realized I still had my eyes focused on his lips. As I stared, I realized how lethargic my brain was. Just touch me, that'll wake me up.
I had a moment where I started wondering random things like what it felt like to be kissed, who he had kissed, if he had ever had a girlfriend, and so many other things that would've turned me bright red if they were said out loud.
The struggle of a teen girl was such an amazing thing. You could put multitudes of time and effort into analyzing what moments from years ago meant for you and your crush, but when the time came for remembering whether your mother said go get bread or not you were useless. At least, I was.
I wondered if he liked me, and with that came the ultimate mental game of cat and mouse ever played in the history of my existence. I had completely forgotten that he was speaking until he touched me, and doused me in water.
I was dumb for thinking that way. After roll Mr. Kent took roll, he told us to create an abstract that symbolized a passionate struggle. He would be grouping us, but we did not have to stay within them if we did not want to. Sure enough, he grouped Kwame and me together.
Kwame walked around to the front of my desk and sat down in a chair after turning it around so his stomach leant against the back.
"Passionate struggle...I could just take a picture of you," he spoke as I went through my library of former assignments on my phone.
