drift // complete

xix

xix

She saw Greyson on the bus everyday that week.

Saying she was happy was an understatement.

He was.. Different, somehow. His gaze never left hers while she spoke. He let her touch him. He smiled and laughed and his eyes danced. He was so, so beautiful.

She couldn't suppress the urges she had to rest her hand on his thigh, or to squeeze his hand. She'd almost forgotten just how much she'd loved him.

She could no longer ignore the way he made her pulse speed up, or how he occupied every thought that formed in her head. She couldn't just brush aside the way her body tingled whenever they touched.

She'd never felt this before. This was pure, raw, love. Anything she felt before him, before Greyson, paled in comparison.

It was the second week of school, on a Thursday. August twenty-fourth.

She laid on her bed, having just gotten off of the bus. Greyson's hair was blonde again. He'd told her his hair was pink because he'd dyed it red over the summer, and it faded. She was a little sad when he bleached his hair again. The pink had suited him.

Her phone chimed, pulling her out of her thoughts.

It was from him.

Hey it read. It was only one word, but to her, it meant so much. He'd texted her. The thought that she crossed his mind made her stomach turn somersaults.

What do you want? You never text me. You have to want something. she typed back. Immediately, she regretted it. She didn't mean to be rude.

Greyson didn't reply for awhile. She figured that text was just a one time thing.

She shouldn't have gotten her hopes so far up.

Obviously, the love for him that burned in her chest wasn't mutual.

Her phone chimed again, and she scrambled to check it.

What if i just want to talk to you?