"She's alive!" Kimber gasped dramatically when I arrived in Mrs. Hawks classroom Monday morning. It's where we had been meeting every morning to discuss the fashion show. At the moment the room was only occupied by the Twins and me.
Jem's eyes were glued to her phone, her short, thick curls doing a poor job at hiding the red tint on her cheeks. Kimber was at the front of the room writing today's assignment on the board in bubble letters. A task she agreed to do for Mrs. Hawk since we took over her classroom.
"We were starting to worry," Jem added, looking up from her phone. "You didn't reply to any of our texts."
"Sorry," I said, sheepishly.
All communication was cut that weekend. I needed to buckle down and work on the designs. That meant no distractions -- no phone, no laptop. For two days it was just me, my sketch book and an old MP3 player that was on death bed.
During those days of solitude I managed to create a few designs I was semi-proud of. That was as good as it was going to get for me. The doubt I had about my abilities still lingered around, reminding me I was in way over my head.
"I've been working on the designs," I explained, taking a seat at the desk next to Jem.
"Can we see them?" Jem's face brightened up and she actually put down her phone.
"I didn't bring them." That was a lie. They were inside a folder in my bag. She was just too excited to see them and I knew they'd disappoint her. They needed to be trashed. Again.
Jem frowned, lifting her phone from her desk and resumed scrolling through her feed.
"That's fine," Kimber said, snapping the cap back onto the marker she was using. "Just bring them to June's. We need an idea of the theme you're going with so that we know how to decorate the gym."
"The gym?" I blinked. The gymnasium was huge. I figured we'd just use the stage in the cafeteria. Surely we wouldn't need that much room.
"Well, yeah, it's the biggest room in the whole school," she pointed out, hoisting herself up onto the desktop next to me. "And so many people are already excited about the show. We're going to need the room. The bleachers are going to be packed!"
Packed? With judgmental teenagers. The room became warmer at the thought of starting a riot because my design sucked. I'm being dramatic. I needed to calm down. It was hard to catch my breath, though. Was the room getting smaller?
My phone rang, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts long enough to excuse myself and step out into the hall. My lungs started working properly as I answered the call.
"Hello?"
"Come out to the quad," an all too familiar voice directed.
What happened Friday night still bothered me. His words ran through my head for the rest of the night. "You wouldn't understand." Understand what?
I tried to push my wounded school girl feelings aside. He was obviously going through something that night. Whatever it was, it didn't seem to be bothering him that day.
"Why?" I asked.
"You'll find out when you get out here." I swear I could hear him smirk.
Glancing back into Mrs. Hawk's classroom made my choice easy. The fashion show preparations needed to be put on hold. Also, the fresh air would've been good for me.
I followed his instructions, navigating my way through the students to get to the door that lead outside. It was cold out and the sky was a creepy looking grey. I was glad that I wore my hair down so my ears were at least warm.
"Now what?" I said into the phone. My eyes scanned the outdoor eating area in search of him. No luck.
"Now, you find the hottest guy in the quad."
I rolled my eyes as I bit back a smile. "Where are you?"
"Mermaid, I'm flattered that you think I'm the hottest guy in the quad," he laughed. "On your right."
I turned, instantly spotting him because his arms were stretched above his head as he waved me over.
He looked like a completely different person from when I last saw him. The bags under his eyes were gone, he had a genuine smile on his face and he didn't look like he was ready to punch someone.
There were two Starbucks Frappuccino drinks in front of him and he pushed one across the table.
"What is this?" I asked, eyeing the drink.
"An apology," he exhaled, looking up at me. His eyes continued to follow me as I sat across from him. "I didn't know what you'd want so I got s'mores because I thought you might like it. Do you even drink coffee? Maybe I should've gone with the brownie. This was a poorly thought out apology."
He was rambling again. He realized this as well, letting out a embarrassed chuckle. A small smile crept onto my face at his behavior. How could he be cocky one moment and awkward the next? This nervous side of him made it easier to talk to him. Watching him fidget with his drink took my attention away from my own awkwardness.
"I like coffee," I assured him. "And s'mores."
"Cool." His shoulders relaxed as he smiled. In the blink of an eye his demeanor changed from playful to serious. He was beginning to make me dizzy. "About the other night, I'm sorry for blindsiding you with that rant. And that I ran out on you. My head was all over the place. Coach is on my ass about the game coming up, my dad and I had fight because my grades are slipping again and—"
He stopped abruptly, his green eyes dropping down to the drink in front of him as he let out a short laugh. "I'm doing it again, while apologizing for doing it in the first place." He glanced back up at me. "This is your fault," he accused.
"How is it my fault you don't know when to stop talking?" I demanded, folding my arms over my chest.
"You just sit there quietly. Listening. Like a therapist or something."
I snorted. "So, I'm too good at listening?"
"Exactly!" He exclaimed. "Interrupt me or stare at your phone. Like normal people do."
I stopped examining the ends of my hair and looked up at him. "I'm sorry did you say something?"
He threw his head back in laughter. The sound made my stomach do cartwheels. "You're getting there."
The warning bell rang just then and I stood up, grabbing my drink from the table.
"Why are you rushing? We still have five minutes."
I turned, starting to walk away. "Sorry, can't hear you. I'm un-practicing my listening skills."
+ + +
The school day went by in a blur and I was meant to meet the girls at June's in a few hours. My inspiration was running low and I couldn't show up with those half-assed designs. I resorted to looking at my fellow students for inspiration. It didn't help much since almost everyone was dressed the same. Hoodies and leggings with flip-flops. Normal Californian attire.
The only thing that caught my eye was a bright blue bomber jacket with a floral design embroidered on the back. I stared at this jacket for two minutes as I followed the herd of students, before realizing the jacket belonged to Vivian.
She had her elbow linked with her friend Ava's as they discussed cheer practice. Just as I was about to tune them out Vivian brought up Miles and my ears perked up.
"He was so upset when he came over the other night," she said, her tone was sympathetic instead of bored and dry like usual. "And he was soaked from the rain which made him look even sadder. I swear, his dad is worse than my mom and that's saying something."
Hearing that was like a slap in the face. I don't know why I was even surprised. Of course he'd run to her. They are friends after all.
The thought of them together made my stomach churn. What wouldn't I understand that she did? My pulse seemed to increase as my hand clenched tightly around the strap of my bag. I didn't understand him and it was infuriating.
I was glad when Vivian and Ava continued walking down the corridor as I turned to leave through the exit. All I wanted to do was go home and hopefully come up with a few designs that didn't make me cringe.
On my way to the bus area, I spotted Mom's red sedan. It was weird because she usually let me know when she was coming to pick me up. She was about to climb into her car when she saw me and I swear, for a split second, she looked surprised. Then she smiled and waved before driving off.