Butterfly Keeper // h.s. au

Chapter Three

I wake up at eleven a.m. to a note from Courtney on the TV stand (or rather the dresser that's serving as a make shift TV stand) saying that she has errands to run today and probably won't be back till the afternoon. Under the note she's written her number and in small words: Text me and we'll hang out again soon. (:

Disappointment that I'll be spending most of the day by myself fills me but I figure I should go back to my room and finish unpacking. I head over to my dorm and enter to find Cara sprawled out on her bed with make up smeared on her face and her hair sticking out at odd angels across her pillow. She was obviously partying last night.

I try to throw on what I'll wear for the day as quietly as possible but trip when putting my leggings on and almost rip my dress by putting my leg through an arm hole. Trying to do anything in this room without waking her will be both difficult and awkward, so I tip tow into the hall to put my boots and sweater on. Now fully dressed I sigh to myself and decide to get lunch and explore campus, figuring I'll come back later when Cara's actually awake.

Outside the air is cooler than yesterday and the trees sway in the crisp breeze. The courtyard is surprisingly empty with the exception of one person. The boy from yesterday, but I observe him more closely now and something strikes me different about him today.

He's wearing a long sleeved white shirt and dark black skinny jeans. The wind blows his dark hair in his face and long, ringed, fingers move the strand behind his ear. A mess of papers is before him on the table and he looks down frustratedly at them.

Suddenly his head jerks up in my direction and our eyes meet with a static shock. It's almost like he could sense my presence and all the emotion that was previously being shown on his face is now masked.

I look away hastily but I don't move. Something feels like it's drawing me to him in some odd way. I suddenly don't feel like myself, like the shy younger sister of a prom queen. I feel brave, and in a snap decision I decide to go talk to him. To say hi.

'Maybe he knows where the cafeteria Is?' I tell myself, but deep down I know that's not why I'm walking towards him right now. 

I feel my nerve wearing as I approach his table and see his hardened features up close. In one instant he looks gentle and lost with his soft green eyes and loose ringlets. But then I see his hard, threatening, gaze and gulp at the sharp line of his jaw. He is a beautiful contradiction sat here before me.

Finally I clear my throat and squeak out a: "Hi, I'm Charlotte," that sounds much less poised than it did in my head.

He looks at me, not a single break in the tight set of his jaw or the clenching of his fists in his lap. I feel my cheeks heat up and find it harder to hold his stare.

"Why are you talking to me?" He asks in a voice much deeper and intimidating than I had imagined.

His words are rough like sand paper but his lips move gracefully when he speaks. I suddenly realize that he's the type of person people write poetry about. He draws you in and warns you out all at once.

"Well I- I just thought you looked lonely and maybe you could use some company." I explain in a flustered manner. I begin nervously picking at my nails without looking at them and maybe thinking that this was a mistake.

He sighs and finally looks back down at his papers, breaking our stare before saying: "You should go away."

"Okay." I agree quickly and almost trip over my own feet while fleeing from the table.

The bravery I felt only a few short minuets ago is replaced with humiliation. I feel like crying from embarrassment but won't let myself as I shove my palms into my eye sockets. I should find comfort in the fact that he's just a lame asshole like Courtney said, but in all reality it doesn't really help.