Inked > h.s au {DISCONTINUED}

chapter 12

Chapter 13

            “You’d never even guess. He just jumped out of my window and into some random girls backpack, and she never even noticed.” Liam laughs, shaking his head at his desk. There’s something about sitting in the front of the class that makes you feel watched, but there’s also a part of it that makes you feel like you’re the only people in the room.

            “And you just let him stay in there?"

            “Well, yeah. What was I supposed to do, ruin all his fun? I might be a bad pet owner, but I am notone to shit on parties.”

            “You’re the worst cat parent ever.”

            Most of my days are spent working, eating, and looking forward to when I get to see Harry. Except for Tuesdays, because those are the days that Liam and I get coffee and go to English and write romantic poems to each other. (Not really, though.)

            “Honestly, could he pay less attention?” Liam asks this leaning back in his chair and tapping his pencil against his desk. He’s referring to Professor Whater, who’s meditating on the floor. (Surprisingly, this isn’t strange for him.)

            “Pretty sure that he’s stoned today,” I say, brushing the hair out of my face. It’s gotten so long lately and I really don’t even know what to do with it.

            “Pretty sure that he’s stoned every day,” Liam whispers quietly, but he could probably say it loud enough for the Professor to hear and he wouldn’t even care.

            “And. You can leave now,” Professor Whater says, just after he sits on the ground. He’ll do that sometimes- just sit on the ground, close his eyes and do yoga during the middle of class. (This is when we start throwing wads of paper at his head, but he never notices.)

            I don’t think that I’ll ever get used to the way that my sneakers squeak against the tiles in the halls of the building, or how the class sounds when it’s dismissed (with hustling and bustling and the noise of daily life). And it’s weird to think that this is real life now- because we feel so free here.

            My steps are a few in front of Liam’s, and I can hear him say, “Hey. Girl. Girl with the dirty sneakers and tight crop top. You. You forgot your beanie.”

            A smile comes across my face when I turn to glance at him, and he’s wearing it on top of his head now. It looks extremely out of place and it’s cute and I can’t help but laugh at him.

            “Take it away. I don’t need your hipster germs,” he says, smiling and tossing it into my hands. The sun is setting outside and the sky is warm- like me, like my heart, like the weather.

            “I am not a hipster,” I say, pulling it snug over my head and looking up at him. He’s much taller than me, and when we stand shoulder-to-shoulder it’s sort of rough when I have to strain my neck to look up.

            (There isn’t an explanation to how we got this close within the span of three class periods, but all that I know is that he saved me from running into a door and bought me coffee, and now we’re friends.)

            “You are such a hipster. Only hipsters wear stupid hats in the middle of summer,” Liam bumps me with his shoulder, and we start heading over to the square. The moss is hanging off the trees in that way again- like they are hanging on by a single string. “If you’re not a hipster, then come to the party tonight.”