"Stupid Cupid, you're a real mean guy!" I sang into my toothbrush. "I'd like to clip your wings so you can't fly! I'm in love and it's a crying shame, and I know that you're the one to blame! Hey, hey set me free! Stupid Cupid stop picking on me!"
I bopped my head and hummed the backup vocals while putting on my deodorant the next morning. My phone rang and upon seeing it was only Cory, I declined the call and threw my phone onto my bed.
"I can't do my homework and I can't think straight. I meet him every morning 'bout half past eight. I'm acting like a lovesick fool!
You've even got me carrying his books to school. Hey, hey set me free. Stupid Cupid stop picking on me!"
I painted on some eyeliner and kissed on some lipstick. I was wearing jeans, black uggs, and one of Triston's sweatshirts I stole from his van this morning when he drove me home.
"You messed me up for good right from the very start. Hey, go play Robin Hood with somebody else's heart! You got me jumping like a crazy clown. And I don't feature what your putting down! Since I kissed his loving lips of wine; the thing that bothers me is that I like it fine. Hey, hey set me free. Stupid Cupid stop picking on me!"
I nuzzled my face into the sleeve of the hoodie and breathed in Triston's smell.
On my nightstand was a picture of us. The picture we took at Homecoming. I didn't know it then, but in that picture I was leaning on the best guy I would ever get to love. I picked up the frame and ran thumb over Triston's cheek. I loved him. This reminded me of how badly I wanted to see him, so I grabbed my backpack and danced my way downstairs. Malissa had a meeting early that morning, so Matt and I boarded the bus. My pleasant mood brought a spring to my step as I walked up its meatal stairs and I smiled at our busdriver cheerfully, even though he was a grumpy fart. I walked down the aisle and sat down in row ten. Matt sat next to me and straightened his baseball cap. I hummed the chorus of Stupid Cupid and tapped my binder with the palms of my hands to the beat, bobbing my head and still smiling.
"What are you so happy about?" Matt inquired with a wondering look.
"Nothing," I smiled with a shake of the head. Triston and I had decided to keep whatever we had going on on the down low for a while.
"Isn't that Triston's sweatshirt?" Knowing that lying when he clearly already knew the answer would have ignited more questions, I nodded.
"Why?"
I shrugged and continued humming. We drove in silence (with exception of my humming) and arrived to school. I put my binder and backpack in my locker and turned around, bumping into a solid chest, reddish brown wavy hair, a pair of blue eyes and a Rob Lowe kind of smile.
"Hey, you." Triston grinned. He pressed the palm of his hands to mine and put his forehead on my forehead.
"What are you doing?" I scolded with a smile. "They might see."
"Who?"
"Anyone."
"So? Who cares?"
"I do." At this comment his face fell and he took a step back. "No, no, it's nothing against you. This happened kind of suddenly and I just want to wait it out a while." I explained.
"But I love you." He kissed my cheek.
"Triston," I playfully grumbled. "Come on, let's go to class." We were walking to French class when he grabbed my hand. "No." I objected. I pulled my hand away.
"Why not?"
"You haven't asked me out yet. You don't get the privilege of holding my hand." I retorted sassily as we rounded the hallway and into and empty one.
YOU ARE READING
A Gang of Our Own
Teen Fiction"Please wake up." I said as I held his hand. I looked for any sign of response; a movement beneath an eyelid, a twitch of a finger. Nothing. He was just... blank. I felt the tears come. I played with his hand in mine; traced invisible messages in hi...
