Tear You Apart | ✓

9

   His eyes instantly lowered to the space between our two chairs. "I'm trying not to be," he admitted before meeting my gaze once more. I couldn't help but notice that his light blue eyes were glossy. "I need practice."

   "A week with me and I'll get you cussing out Justin. Or even better yet, Blake," I teased before looking at his poem.

   The both of us finished reading and editing each other's work for the next few minutes, recalling what we'd learned about good poems. When I released the pen with my left hand, I stretched my fingers before glancing to the side of my hand.

   Black ink faintly stained my skin, almost all the way up to my pinky. Fun.

   "So how's your family?" Tristan asked, moving my attention from my hand to him.

   I slid his work in his direction. "Same old, I guess," I shrugged. "Kaitlin came back from her week trip to Vancouver and is still a pain in my ass."

   He laughed. "How is she a pain in your ass?"

   "She flew in yesterday at six in the morning and made me pick her up. All she did was complain until we got home, only to then try to guilt trip me into putting on her bed sheets. She was just so tired." I rolled my eyes.

   "Did you do it?" He asked after a few moments, giving me my poem.

   I snorted without thought. "Do you know me? No." I tucked some of my hair behind my ear. "I gave her props before walking back to my room. Well, before giving her my motivational speech."

   "It started with: do it, and ended with: your damn self." Kaitlin always preached about being older, but aside from all the jokes we said to each other, she knew that I didn't see her as my elder, especially growing up. Elliot was.

   Tristan's laughed returned me to reality. But before he could say anything, Mister Torres called out for us to stop chatting before pointing at Justin to present his poem out loud.

   He never got to finish it, since it was too sexually explicit for Mister Torres. I was almost scared that the vein popping out of his forehead would burst.

   Justin and Adrian both laughed while another student got up to present their work. This motion kept on going on for another ten minutes before the bell rang. We all began to pack up while Mister Torres already had his phone out, texting rapidly while sitting on the chair in front of his desk.

   The moment I stepped out of the classroom, I felt someone slide into the space next to me. "Go out with me, Kelsey."

   "How about no, Tristan," I respond back with ease as I turned the corner.

   He jogged to catch up with me, only to stop in front of me moments later. "Why not?" He asked with raised brows, making me sigh.

   "I thought you were over this, Tris," I told him, clenching my Calculus textbook against my chest. "We're friends, but dating—"

   "Just one date," he almost begged. When I didn't budge, he sighed, stepping close enough that our feet were almost touching.

   I inched my head up slightly with an exhale. "Can't we just try one date?" He mumbled.

   After maintaining eye contact with me for a few solid moments, I sighed. "Alright. But Tris, this doesn't mean I'm magically in love with you now."

   He only grinned before sliding into the space next to me again. "What class you have now again?"

   "Visual arts with Pop. But I'm gonna head to the bathroom first," I told him, stepping a few feet away. My period was just finishing up, thank God.