Thursday morning, the day before Friday. The day after I admitted I might just be able to tolerate Elijah Rivera. After six years.
Sitting in math class, my leg bounces under the table as I feel his presence behind me. Why? That's a big question I've been asking a lot lately.
He's sitting there doing his worksheet, I'm doing mine. So what's the big deal? He's not even bugging me for the first time in forever. But for some reason, I want him to. I want his attention. I never want attention. I never want his attention. It's humiliating.
The bell rings and I pack up my things before leaving the classroom. Heading to my locker, I exchange my Math for my English book like always. It's the same routine every single day and I'm so sick of it.
Shoving my binder into my locker, I knock my science book on the ground. Perfect.
Bending down to pick it up, I see shoes come up very close behind me. Whoever it is, tugs on the back of my skirt to pull it down. I quickly turn around only to relax when I see Elijah.
Well, that's new.
"You do realize you're wearing a skirt?" He looks down at it.
"Yes?"
"Okay. So do you realize skirts go up when you bend down?"
Oh, I forgot. How did I forget? "Of course," I lie with a shrug before turning around and grabbing my backpack before shutting my locker.
I spin only to realize Elijah still hasn't left, let alone backed away.
"Anything else?" I ask.
He hesitates. "How's your foot?"
"Um- walkable. I iced it yesterday as you said."
Why is this the most awkward conversation we've had?
"Good gir— good job," Elijah stutters over his words, shaking his head.
I have to bite my lips in order to keep my mouth closed. Feeling butterflies in my stomach, that was the last sign I needed.
"Bye—" "Yesterday—" we say at the same time.
I reluctantly nod, signaling him to continue. "Did I embarrass you at all? You left so quickly."
"You did not. I just- I do not know." I shrug.
"You do know," he states, making me furrow my brows.
"I do not."
"You do."
"I do not! It's just that," I hesitate and look around.
"Just what? You can talk to me, Lavender," Elijah comforts.
My head snaps towards him as my expression softens. He's so gentle with me. Why?
"Nobody has ever really talked to me like that," I admit.
He gives me a sad smile and my admirable face automatically turns regretful. "I don't need your pity, Elijah."
"It's not pity—"
"It is. That's a pity smile, I'm not stupid."
"Lavender—"
I shake my head repeatedly. "Just forget it. It was nice of you to say, thank you." I sigh and walk to my English class.
I sit down and immediately pull out my Chromebook. I put in my headphones and start bullet points for Sage.
He's a good brother. Sometimes, I feel terrible for making everything about me. Especially when our dad died. I didn't even know how he felt because he was too worried about me. I'll forever be grateful but I just overthink it half the time. Even now I feel like I'm not there enough as I should be. He doesn't really like to talk about his feelings, and me neither but I guess it's something we got from our parents, like every other thing. And he gets upset when I push but that's okay.
I love Sage, he's been there forever, literally. When I'm struggling with my mental health, he does the best he could to comfort me. We're both terrible at comforting people. We get so awkward. But he laid with me in the dark while watching my favorite movies and honestly, that was enough for me.
We have our moments but so does everyone.
Another choice I can do is Harper. When our dad died she was there for both of us. She continued checking up on us no matter what time of day it was. I love Harper. She brought me out of my comfort zone and is like a breath of fresh air because she's so unpredictable. You'll never know what she'll do next and I adore that about her. Her on the other hand is terrific at comforting people. If fashion design doesn't work out for her, she should definitely be a therapist.
As I think all this, for some reason, my fingers don't type. My leg bounces under the table as I raise my hand.
Mr. Johnson comes right over. "Do we have to present these in front of the class?" I whisper.
He smiles at me. "Only if you're comfortable."
I nod and get back to writing.
'My best friend. Harper Solana, my soulmate. The one who was there..."
I sigh and backspace. That sounds corny.
'A best friend who changes someone's life is a rare and precious find. Not everyone is lucky enough to have a friend who can make a significant impact on their life, but I did and I'm forever grateful.'
I contemplate that paragraph for a while until I remember it's due in a couple of days. Just write it all out then edit.
'Firstly, a best friend who changes someone's life can offer a fresh perspective on things. That's exactly what Harper Solana did. She sees things that I can't, and offers insight that I may not have considered before. This can be incredibly valuable, especially if I'm going through a difficult time or facing a tough decision. Having someone who can offer objective advice and support can make all the difference.'
'My best friend is my source of inspiration and motivation. She has many qualities and achievements that I admire, and seeing her succeed motivates me to work harder and aim higher. She's always able to offer guidance and support as I work towards my own goals, providing encouragement and accountability along the way.
'Thirdly, Harper is my whole comfort and support during difficult times. She is always there to offer a listening ear, a shoulder to cry on, or practical help when I need it most. Knowing that you have someone who cares about you and is there for you no matter what can be incredibly comforting, and can help you get through even the toughest of times.
'I will forever be grateful for her support through the death of my dad.."
I delete, delete, and delete. This is the stupid part I didn't want to write. It's not anybody's business.
At this point, I'm back to throwing words and sentences together when the bell rings. Is the hour over already? What is up with my mind today?
I go to my locker but Mr. Know-It-All is there. Having no choice, I walk up but ignore him and twist in my locker combination.
"Lavender," Elijah says my name but I act like I don't hear as I exchange my English for my History book.
"Lavender, look at me."
I shake my head and bite the inside of my cheek. Slamming my locker shut, I start to walk away but my hand is being grabbed and I'm being turned to Elijah.
"Please look at me when I'm talking to you," he states, frustrated.
I pull my arm away from his grip. "Do not talk to me like that," I snap, hating that sentence with even bone in my body.
"I'm sorry," Elijah apologizes as he runs his hand through his dark messy hair. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry if I made you upset or anything, I— God, Lavender you are so infuriating."
My jaw drops and I laugh. "I'm infuriating? All I did was thank you!"
"After you interrupted me when I tried to explain myself!"
"I can't even— I'm not going to sit here and argue with you. I'm going to class."
I start walking and he automatically follows. When I realize we have the same class I internally groan. I want to turn around and punch him in the dick for being a dick.
I sit in my seat and roll my eyes.
Me? Infuriating? Yeah right. Words can't even explain how infuriating he is. I would rather cut my ears off than have to listen to his voice ever again. He's telling me what to do? I don't think so.
The bell rings, cutting off my angry thoughts and we're continuing working on our projects. Elijah slowly moves up to sit next to me and pushes the Chromebook over to my side of the desk. I open it and angrily type in the login.
I cross my arms over my chest as he makes changes to the essay.
"Oh class, I forgot to pass out your tests from last week," Mr. Morgan announces as he started passing out papers.
He gets to Elijah and me and places them face down on the table. I flip mine over to see I got a 98%. I mixed up the two answers to the questions I got wrong.
I look over to see that asshole got a 99%.
———
I got 1% higher than her and she is pissed.
Lavender reaches over to grab my paper and I watch her as she rips it up in pieces. The look on her face makes me forget why I was ever mad at her. I stare at her in admiration as she's determined to make the paper disappear into multiple pieces.
She does my favorite tongue thing as she focuses, making me smile.
When she's finished, she slams the shreds of paper in the middle of my desk. I stare at her with a half smile. "You done?"
She just glares at me. I shrug and lean back. "It's already in the grade book."
"What the— Lavender! Did you rip up his test?" Mr. Morgan scurries over and the whole class becomes quiet, watching us.
"I did not."
"Oh, so he shredded his own paper then?"
"Correct, sir," Lav nods making me laugh under my breath.
Mr. Morgan looks over at me for confirmation. "It's okay. I gave her permission."
"You gave her permission to tear your paper?" He sounds terribly confused.
"Yes sir."
He sighs and throws his hands up in surrender before walking back to his desk.
I look over at Lavender to see she's already looking at me but she moves her gaze as soon as she meets my eyes.
I smile as I finish revising my essay. Handing her over the computer she continues her Google slides.
I wish she would speak to me, I didn't mean to make her upset. She is infuriating but at least she's infuriating with me. That's what I love about her, she isn't afraid to speak her mind when she needs to.
I've been desperate to hear her voice, laugh, or smile since she left my house. I couldn't stop thinking about her last night, especially since I just confirmed my hugest secret to myself.
Staring at her, my leg bounces under the table. "So do you have any other book suggestions for me?" I plead.
I see her hesitate. "Um, not any to your liking."
I tilt my head in confusion. "Well, what does that mean?"
"Nothing. We just read different genres. Stop talking I'm trying to focus."
She's avoiding the question, what does she read?
"Well, I liked the last one. Why wouldn't I like the other ones?"
"I do not know, I'm trying to get us a good grade. Shut the hell up," Lavender mumbles.
I leave it alone and lean back in my seat, watching her as she types. I will find out sooner or later.
-
I'm in English class and I feel like it's been the longest day on earth.
Right now it's just a makeup day so everybody's doing their own thing. I feel hands squeeze my shoulders as Sage comes to sit next to me at my table.
"Yes?" I ask.
"Lavender always complains how you like beat her or whatever at math and she's super smart so that must mean you're smart too so could you help me with my math homework please?" he rambles.
Huh, at least I know she talks about me.
I nod and teach him how to do it. We finished his homework and we get to talking about regular stuff. Sage is an interesting person, he's actually really cool.
"Do you play any like- video games?" he asks me.
"Only if my brothers want me to play with them. Why, do you?"
"Me neither. I'm really into music so I spend my time trying to learn an instrument or making mixes or whatever."
"That's really cool. I remember you showing me it that one time," I confirm.
"Yeah," he hesitates, "speaking of that, why were you in my house? How'd you get in?"
Shit. "The front door, Lavender let me in. I was bringing her her phone," I lie.
Sage suspiciously nods. "Mhm, and your shirt yesterday?"
"I was being nice, her knitted thingy got wet." I pause. "Why? Did she say anything?"
"No. I'm just making sure no funny business is going around with my little sister." He raises an eyebrow.
I furrow my brows, confused. "Aren't you guys twins?"
"I'm seven minutes older," Sage says proudly making me smile. "You were there when she got invited to the party tomorrow right? Did he actually seem nice?"
"I'd watch out for him, he was flirting with Lavender the whole time she was in line." I fidget with my pencil as I sabotage the guy's chance.
"Good to know."
***