11- Lists of Excuses

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Sophie's PoV:

I've been paired with Dylan for Mrs. Norton's assignment over Christmas break.

Great.

Dylan.

The guy Kira told me her conspiracies regarding his whole relationship with Lexi.

The guy who drove me home twice, stood up for me and defended me, even though he had no reason to do so.

Since Mrs. Norton dawned the news of this essential project we're required to complete, I've been avoiding Dylan by fleeing the class the moment the bell rang.

It resulted in stealing Dylan's chance of actually saying anything to me in relation to this horridly dreaded upcoming project.

I go to my sacred sanctuary -the garden- settling beneath my beloved leafless tree.
I set my bag right next to me, and stare ahead just processing everything that happened in the last couple of weeks.

Do you ever catch yourself off guard?
Like you're not entirely changed, but at the same time you're not the same person you used to be at some point.

~ Day by day, nothing changed.
Looking back, it's all different now ~

I scribble down in my notebook, then sigh deeply like an invisible weight has been lifted off my shoulders somehow.

I think this one sentence summed up how I've been feeling lately in the most perfect way.

I close my notebook and bag it up in my school pack bag, dusting off my pants from any dirt stuck to the back of my jeans.

I make it inside to the cafeteria nonchalantly until I lock eyes with intense pair of brown eyes that never leave mine for quite a long time as I'm walking.

I break off the staring contest we're having by lowering my head and focusing my vision on the doors leading to the hallways seeking my escape.

My footsteps pick up speed, fast pacing towards my next class, which sounds funny as hell, wanting to reach class early when I'm always late.

I keep my head set a-straight, until I'm met with the sound of another set of feet walking behind me.

I decide to shrug it off at first, though that quickly faded away as soon as I heard "Soph, hey" Coming out of the person I didn't want to talk to right now. Not when my head's all jammed up.

You guessed it right. It was him.

"Hey, Dylan. I'm kind of already late to my class, can we talk later?" Lies. I still have a minute before the bell rings.

"Sure. Project. You. Me. I don't want to fail senior year because of this" He rushes out, clearly not wanting to hold me back for long, which I strangely appreciated.

" I'll text you later " The words fly off my tongue before I think them through. It seems to have worked because he relaxes and smiles "Ok" He responds and turns leaving.

Blinking. Once. Twice.
Did I just tell him I'll text him. I don't even have his number for goodness sake!

I sigh dramatically, this will have to wait, this time I'll actually be late to class if I don't start exercising my legs soon towards history class.

<••>

Hefty classes long awaited-ly came to an end and I'm free to go home from my daily served sentence.

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