King of the Losers

eight

I have a dedication list for all of the active commenters and readers. This one goes to MsFanfictional. Plus, it's a shorty sorry. – Mo

. . .

"Zora, you have to stop being awkward around me." I practically beg the girl next to me, tapping her fingers nervously against the lunch table.

"I- I'm not." she smiles sheepishly, tapping her foot against the sleek floor.

"Yes you are." I obliged, watching her as she licks her unstained lips. " I can tell," I add. Her purple converse tap against her knee as she folds her foot over her leg.

" I promise you, Jacob, I'm not." she attends another smile, but it comes out sheepishly again.

I reach for her leg, pushing my hand against it to stop the shaking. "Then stop shaking," I say with a somewhat playful warning look.

"Alright, fine," she gives in, placing her foot back on the ground. I smile and she does, too.

"About that plan," I start, raising my eyebrow with a sly smirk threatening to crown my face. She looks slightly taken aback, but that look quickly washes away as she slidess her hands over the table.

"Yeah, about the plan." she repeats, laughing nervously. "Do you have any new methods of putting the plan into action?" She asks.

My eyes absent-mindedly bulge incredulously. " you mean you're telling me you don't have an actual plan to put the plan into action?" My eyes browse her face for any humor she may be hiding behind it.

She laughs. "No?"

"Okay, me either." We both share a laugh and she quickly swipes a strand of her purple tipped hair behind her ear.

"No, but seriously."