Seeing Shane Gray ✓

three | friends

*.*.*.*.*.*

August 19

"I'm going to the library," I say after a while of sitting around in the empty classroom and discussing boys I don't even find attractive. I'm not asexual or whatever, but talking about whose ass is hotter and whose shirt brings out his six-pack is not how I want to spend my free lesson.

Rachael clings to my hand and prevents me from getting up.

"Why?" Her eyes widen. "Please tell me we don't have an assignment I forgot about."

I roll my eyes, wrenching my hand out of hers and zipping up my hoodie.

"No, we don't. I'm going to see if they have this book I've been searching for."

"Is a romance novel?" Riley's face glows. "What's the name? I want to read too."

"The subtle art of not giving a fuck," I tell her bitterly the first name that comes to mind.

She scowls, eyes narrowed and lips pursed. I'm sure she doesn't know that's a real book and not a sassy comeback I've made up. I already have too many of those to count.

"See you guys later," I mumble, lifting my backpack onto my shoulder too fast so that my ponytail gets stuck in it. I wince, pulling my hair free before I go bald.

"Calm down, Tay," Marla says to me, eyeing me with boredom. She's clearly getting annoyed by my chronically-bad mood.

Luckily, I've mastered the subtle art of not giving a fuck.

My friends protest -- whining that I'm becoming emo and they're afraid I'm going to join some satanic cult for which I need ancient books on mythology and necromancy -- but I don't care. Honestly, setting the world in eternal God-forsaken darkness from hell doesn't seem like a bad idea. If only I was either smart or evil enough to do that but whatever. I can't memorize my geometry let alone a dozen curses in some made-up language of dragons and witches.

The only witch I care about is Hermoine Granger. Yup, she's the bomb

Maybe that's why I prefer reading a good book or listening to music over socializing with the inferior human forms and discussing the trivialities of Earthly living. And that's also why my plan for today -- and basically every other day of my life -- is simple: mind my own business and keep everyone out of it. At least nobody's going to be messing with me in the library.

Passing by the vending machine, I decide to get a bottle of water and some gummy bears. Unfortunately, when I put a dollar into the machine, it gets stuck. Not only does it refuse to spit out the bottle I want but also devours my money whole.

"What the hell, you greedy robot?" I mumble-snap at the machine, pressing its buttons to get it working again.

My luck keeps getting worse, and the machine whirs and spits, stopping entirely.

"No no no," I repeat, pressing harder and finally resorting to punching the damn thing. "Just great! No wonder everyone hates you, you freaking world-dominating mechanical invention!"

I hear someone chuckle behind me, spinning around to meet gentle gray eyes.

"Bad day?" Shane Gray asks, glancing over my shoulder at the machine I've been caught wrestling with.

It stands there with its innocent silence, causing me to fume with rage.

"Oh, it keeps getting better and better," I snap. I glare at the vending machine as if I can stare it into complying with me.

"Have you tried being nicer to it?" Shane asks with an amused smile that causes dimples to appear on both his cheeks.

I realize they hadn't appeared yesterday, maybe because his smile had been different. Yesterday, he had been smiling to be polite. Today, he's smiling because he's actually enjoying himself.