Hazy

Chapter Eight.

I felt competitive, but I’ve felt that being competitive or being early or brave wouldn’t do anything about the guilt or the foolishness I’m feeling. I wish it would do something with Marcel though.

Roughly after listening to two songs in my iPod, I’m already in front of the main entrance of my school. I was sweating, struggling to breathe due to the hot, dewy morning air effusing as the springtime’s specialty. The scent of commercialized fragrance of the flowers didn’t help everyone’s nauseous state either.

The school was surprisingly deserted. Almost nobody came here today, even though the actual event’s happening tomorrow and even though it was declared by our principal that today is a regular school day. I guess people couldn’t care less.

Some students were still here, but I’m guessing, as they were scattered like wandering sheep all over the hallways, they didn’t come for classes.

My classes weren’t my priority for today either.

I came here for Marcel.

“Are you going tomorrow night, Jamie?”

I looked on my left to see Edward, definitely the school’s Ron Weasley – with the quite pudgy, messy ginger hair he’s got, stopped in his tracks asking me, despite carrying a huge heavy-looking box full of colorful decors.

He’s in my year and he probably has prom committee duties for detention.

Edward smirked, and I can’t help not to look at his untied kicks overlapping with his ripped loose jeans.

“Yes.” I blurted, after guiltily checking him out with a wrong approach.

“That’s great!” Edward acknowledged, and I can see him struggling over the box.

“You wouldn’t mind me asking you for a dance, right?” He gently winked and I was slightly taken aback upon his playful gesture.

“Um, I—“ I sputtered incoherently.

“I would. She’s with me, Ed.”

Marcel.

Something about the way he reprimanded Edward made me shocked, in a pleasing way. I bit my lip, withstanding the force of a smile.

Marcel rested his hand on my lower back, bringing me closer to him and then, I was charged. All of my drained energy this morning charged back at me.  A million thoughts shot through my brain as I stared, awestruck, at Marcel.

I think I kind of really like him.

But why’s he here?

Oh, he found me.

Yes, Marcel’s with me.