[edited as of 12/1/15]
Sam
Tick-tock. Tick-tock.
I watched the clock, tapping my pen against the top of my desk.
This was the day I had been waiting for since the first time I stepped foot onto Woodrove High School campus four years ago. It was the last day of my senior year — and the first official day of my life as an adult. Or, college student. Whatever.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
I side-eyed the girl sitting next to me, my curiosity aflame, as usual. Sculpted, tanned legs inside a pair of dark shorts, a tie-dye shirt, elbows bent outward as she scribbled on the notebook in front of her, long blonde hair held up in a messy ponytail on top of her head, heart shaped mouth, vibrant, blue eyes that were narrowed and focused on whatever picture she was drawing.
I was possibly crazy, and a total stalker, but it was kind of impossible to look away from Millie Clearwater once you had already caught sight of her. She was magnetic and enchanting and completely out of my league, but that had never stopped me from admiring her.
Of course, the second she looked up, her lips pressing into a thin line as she realized she was being watched, I averted my gaze.
My obsession with Millie was a secret — secret, as in, everyone but Millie knew about my obsession with Millie.
"Sam," Millie hissed, and I jumped in my seat. "Sam, were you just looking at me?"
Maybe I wasn't as sneaky as I thought I was.
"Um, what? Me?" I glanced around, like there were any other Sams in the area that could've been staring at her. After receiving a head nod and thumbs up from Brandon, and realizing that there weren't, in fact, any other guys named Sam, I looked back at Millie. "Right, no, I wasn't looking at you."
Millie didn't smile, but I hadn't really expected her to. She wasn't a smiler. She did this thing, though, where she squinted her eyes and bit into her lower lip which I thought meant she was amused or pleased or any positive combination of emotions. It was only one of many looks she had, but it was my favorite.
And as I grinned sloppily at her, she gave me the Look, even reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear that wasn't there, a move she only did when she was truly in a good mood.
After glancing at Mrs. Teasdale to make sure she hadn't looked up from her book yet and noticed the rare moment of attention Millie was bestowing upon me, I leaned toward the girl in question. "Hey, are you going down to the bluff tonight with everyone?"
Millie's Look vanished. "No. It's the first night that we're all going to be together, since Clea and Daphne are getting back from school today, so..."
"Right." I bobbed my head up and down. "But, I mean, you could bring them. It's not exclusive or anything."
"So, I could bring my thirty-six year old uncle, too? That's how all-inclusive it is?"
I grimaced. "Um, I'm not sure how much fun you'd have with your uncle there..."
"I was kidding." Millie tapped her pen once on the top of her desk.
"Of course! I knew that." I grimaced. Smooth one, Sammy boy. "Well, I mean, you should think about it. Coming, I mean. It would be cool to see you outside of school." And not just when we both happen to be standing on our front porches at the same time.
Somewhere behind me, Brandon let out a hacking cough "So lame."
Mrs. Teasdale looked up briefly from her book, shot Brandon the same darkly irritated look she'd been giving him all year long, and then let her eyes drop down. She was the only senior level English teacher Woodrove High had, and the second that bell rang, dismissing us from the last of our finals, we were no longer her responsibility. I had a feeling she was relishing in that.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
I looked down at Millie's hand on my desk. Her middle finger was tapping a steady rhythm on top of a folded up piece of paper that hadn't been there before. When I glanced up at her face, her bottom lip was twitching. "I'll think about it."
I nodded. "That's —" but before I could finish, the bell went off, and the whole room seemed to surge. Students bolted from their seats and sped quickly down the aisles, some jumping over desks to get out.
Once it all had cleared, I looked next to me again for Millie. But she wasn't there, and when I glanced at the door, all I saw was a flash of blonde hair and the back of a tie-dye shirt, before she was gone.
"That was smooth," Brandon said as he came up behind me, his hand falling down on my shoulder. "Real smooth. I'm sure all that stuttering and stumbling really made her wet for you."
"You're an ass." I shoved his hand off my shoulder and stood up, grabbing the delicately folded paper off my desk. Mrs. Teasdale hadn't looked up from her book, and just barely wiggled her fingers in my direction as I slid into the hallway.
"Come on, man, I was kidding." Brandon laughed as he ran to catch up with me. "You kind of died in there, though, you have to admit it. What was with all the um, right, well, yeah, it would be, um, cool?"
I shook my head. "She makes me nervous."
"She's just a girl, Sam."
"She's not just a girl. She's the girl."
"Oh, my God," Brandon exclaimed as I pushed the double doors at the end of the hall open. "Are we on that again? She's your next door neighbor, dude, not your soulmate."
"I never said soulmate."
"But you were thinking it, weren't you?"
"No."
I didn't think Millie and I were soulmates, but I thought that if, maybe, she'd open herself up a little bit more, we could be friends. As far as I'd seen, she didn't really engage with anyone besides her family, and the same went for her sisters. They were all equally illusive and beautiful and mysterious, but Millie had definitely taken it to a whole different level.
I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen her really talk to anyone. Sometimes she'd make small talk with me like she had today, and I'd see her give someone a pencil when they asked, but it was all surface stuff. Every once in a while, a rumor would emerge about Millie. Something about seeing her with a guy, but I'd never been one to listen to rumors about the Clearwater family.
Secretly, I felt like I knew Millie. Maybe I didn't know her like I wanted to, but I felt like I was one of the few people that really saw her. Everyone stared, everyone looked, but did they really see her? Or just the pretty, mysterious girl?
Even when she was telling me the reason for her not going to the bluff party tonight, I'd seen something brewing beneath her gaze, even if I couldn't place exactly what it was. I wanted to say it was longing, but I wasn't that egotistical to think she returned my feelings.
"It's all about the chase," Brandon informed me, for what had to be the twentieth time, as we went down the stairs that led to the school parking lot. "The second Millie finally lets you catch her, you aren't going to want her."
"That's not true."
"How do you know? How do you know that she's as perfect as you think she is?"
I frowned. "Can we just drop this?"
"Sure, until the next time she says ten words to you and you get caught up in the magical bullshit that is Millie Clearwater."
"Brandon."
"I'm just trying to look out for you." He draped his arm over my shoulder, steering me in the direction of his car.
I sighed, knowing my efforts to say anything pro-Millie were futile. Brandon had never had a high tolerance for the Clearwaters, for whatever reason, and I didn't like trying to argue with him about the whole mess.
Remembering the folded piece of paper in my hand, I glanced up at Brandon as he went around the side of the car to unlock it, careful to keep it out of his eye sight as I unfolded it.
As soon as I saw what was on the page, my breath caught in my throat.
There was a guy, looking at something the artist hadn't caught in the picture, eyes narrowed into slits behind thick, square glasses. His chin was in his hand, and his lips were pressed together in a thin, determined line. In the corner of the picture, there was a small bubble, like a rain drop, that encased the initials MC.
It took me a moment to realize that the guy in the picture was me.
"I just think you need to be careful. She's bad news, Sam," Brandon said as he yanked open the driver side door. I looked up as he gave me a small, apologetic look. "She's cursed, remember?"
Like I could ever forget.
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Also, make sure and check out the banner I made ON MY OWN. I know it may not seem like a lot, but I'm not great at that stuff, and it was sort've difficult for me to make it not look awful.