Vol. 1: Twenty-Eight

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+ LOVING ELIJAH MCCAY +
VOL. 1: CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

     I sat in my last class of the day, my chin resting limply in the palm of my hand, and my left leg bouncing with nerves

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I sat in my last class of the day, my chin resting limply in the palm of my hand, and my left leg bouncing with nerves. I couldn't stop thinking about what would Elijah possibly want to show me, after school. And my parents being on a date all night, was just the icing on the cake. Considering, it meant I wouldn't exactly have a curfew.

I sincerely hoped that it wasn't another group of friends, seeing as how well meeting the first batch went.

My fingers gripped tightly onto my mechanical pencil, watching as my science teacher scribbled all sorts nonsense I didn't understand, onto a large whiteboard. His voice projected, as he spoke, and he stopped every few moments to ask one of my peers a question.

Biting onto the eraser of my pencil nervously, I watched the clock that sat just above the whiteboard, with calculating eyes.

I was quite thankful that the teacher speaking, Mr. Mulberry, never called on me. Because I knew that if he did, I'd come off as a complete idiot, and make a fool out of myself. All because I could not stop thinking about him.

My eyes zeroed into the clock, watching every second pass by idly.

But the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, as I felt someone's eyes on me. I tried my best to seem subtle, while my eyes searched the room for anybody who could be staring.

I didn't know what to think, when my line of vision connected with a boy's. That same boy from only days before. The one who was for some reason, wearing a trench coat during the summertime. My cheeks tinged a light pink color, as I shifted my eyes away from his.

He did the same, tucking his chiseled chin into the crook of his coat.

He had dark brown hair, and light brown eyes, that seemed to have hints of green to them, a little like my mother's. The coloring in his cheeks never went away, due to my incessant staring.

I hadn't meant to make him uncomfortable, but to be quite frank, he was the one who stared first.

     I could clearly make out the fact that he was now bouncing his leg with nerves, just like I had been. I wondered why he was staring at me, and if he needed something from me. My only hope was that he would gather the courage to come speak to me.

My eyes found themselves latching onto the ground, watching the boy with dark brown hair, in the corner of eye. I waited the for the bell to ring, so that maybe on our way out of school, he'd find his way over to me.

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