Well, this isn't awkward.
I'm sitting in the library, sitting in a booth, my head buried in my laptop.
Alex is sitting in the booth DIRECTLY beside me. DIRECTLY opposite him. It's kind of distracting me.
Every so often I feel him staring at me, and I look up. He looks down.
I don't know how I didn't see him. Maybe its because he's not wearing his Ray Bans or leather jacket. But, yeah, I just decided to take the ONLY booth that it would be awkward at. I thought about moving, but then it would be even more obvious that it's awkward.
Anyway, we're both just sitting here, typing on our computers. I'm trying to come up with a conclusion since I've been OK productive (I sat here for a full hour before I saw Alex).
I sigh and get out of my booth. I walk to the front counter and the librarian looks up. She's not an old, glasses kind of librarian. She's young, with brown hair and blue eyes. She smiles up at me.
"Hey, hun, what would you like?" she asks.
"Um," I start. "Would you happen to have any books about writing an essay or an application?"
"Actually, row C's got a heap of books with tips and stuff, you can go have a look if you like," she says, giving me a grin before continuing to type on her laptop. I thank her and head to aisle C.
Alex is in there, looking at a series of books, his hand tracing the spines. I'm already halfway into the aisle before he sees me.
Great. No backing out now.
I mentally sigh/groan, turning my back on him and looking at the titles of large, thick books in front of me.
They're not of the kind I want. I sigh slightly and move to the side, looking again. I look up and down the row but can't find any of the books I'm looking for. I move to the other side, the side Alex is on.
He's directly in the middle. I'm on the end. I really, really hope that my book is on this end. I scan the titles of the book and almost say "oh, poop" out loud. But I don't. Instead, I walk around the side of aisle C into aisle D. I walk down the length of it and then come out the other end and swing around the side, back into aisle C.
Alex looks at me curiously and I look away. I physically hear him gulp and look down at the ground.
I scan the books and find that not one is of the kind I'm looking for. I look over at Alex and bite my lip. He's looking at the books I want. I should probably leave and come back later. But then it would be suspicious. Like, he'd wonder about why I was randomly wandering around, as though I wanted something to happen. What if he takes the book I want, though? Yes. I have to stay.
I walk over and stand beside him. My heart starts to beat faster when I smell his cologne. I push my lips into my mouth and scan the book's names.
How to write an essay.
How to research.
How to develop a claim.
Science reports: Your guide to an A+
English novel templates: Tips, tricks and more
I scan over the names, my fingers touching the spines of each book gingerly.
I see one that I can't read and lean over to grab it. My shoulder brushes his and sends electrical currents down my arm.
He looks away and I grab the book, walking away from him to read it. It's not the right one. I sigh and walk back over to Alex, slipping the book back into its slot.
I keep looking over his shoulder until I'm not looking at the books anymore, just basking in his presence. He takes out a book and looks at it. I stare at the title.
How to write a college application.
Damn, that's the one I want. He puts it back in the bookshelves and I reach for it. He stops my hand and I look up.
"You can have the scholarship," he says quietly.
"No. You have to apply. I'm not going to get in," I reply, pushing the book back.
"You'll get it," he states.
"So will you," I say. His eyes leave mine and scan over the books.
"I don't care. You deserve it," he says.
"I don't deserve it any more than you," I reply again.
"Yes, you do," he says. I shake my head. He moves towards me and I look up. "You do."
"So do you," I say. He stares at me. "I miss you," I whisper.
WARNING: fifty shades of red again. PLEASE LOOK AWAY IF YOU DON'T WANNA READ THIS STUFF.
He moves towards me in a blur. He wraps his arms around my waist and twirls me around. He slams me into the bookshelf. The breath is knocked out of me when the books and shelves hit my back. A couple fall out.
"F***, I love you," he whispers.
I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him into my chest. He keeps one arm around my waist and moves the other up to cup my cheek.
I place my lips on his and he strokes my cheek with his thumb. He kisses me slowly and I thread my fingers through his hair, playing with the curly ends. He moves his hand down my cheek to my neck and then back to my waist, pulling me into him so there's no space between us.
"Alex," I say, pulling the kiss apart.
He moves his hands from my waist to my neck and kisses me harder. I sigh and kiss him back, placing my hand on his jaw, the other still tangled in his hair.
I forgot how good it felt to kiss him. He still tastes like mint and he's a great kisser. Yeah, he's probably had lots of practice. Practice. Player. Alex is a player. Stop kissing him. He's playing you.
I push him off me and he stumbles backwards.
"Stop it," I whisper. He walks back towards me and grabs my face.
"I won't," he says. I put my hands over his and pull them down.
"We can't," I say, looking at the ground to his right.
"Why not?" his voice raises. "It's not like we're friends anymore, Nat! I'm in love with you."
A sob escapes my mouth and he wipes a tear away with his thumb.
"I'm not..." I start but don't finish. I look at the ground again and slip out of his grasp, leaving the book behind and rushing out of the library after collecting my stuff.
***
I sit on my bed, staring at the book in front of me and not reading the words. You know when you're actually looking over the words and you get the jist of things but you're actually thinking about something else so you have to go back over the page a couple of times?
That's happening right now. My mind's on a certain boy and I'm trying to read the sixty-eighth page of The Great Gadsby.
I sigh and shut the book, leaning back to lie on my bed. Wombat's at soccer practice with my parents and the boys.
I called Bubbles and Adele. They got mad at me again. I suppose I should just not tell them about the... stuff that happens.
I turn over and bury my face in the pillows. I close my eyes and try to go to sleep. It doesn't work. I get up and make my way to the door. I walk down the stairs and switch on the kitchen lights. I make myself some 2-minute noodles and head back upstairs.
I stop myself from jumping back onto my bed when I see a light on in the room next door. I peek through the kitchen and swallow the lump in my throat.
I don't know who the girl is, but she's certainly kissing him hard. My bottom lip moves away from the top one so my mouth forms an 'o' shape. She's sitting on top of him, her hands on his face. She's certainly not wearing that much clothing. Her pants barely cover the top of her thighs and her shirt is ripped so it only covers up to her rib cage. It's also a V neck that flows around her upper body.
Alex doesn't have a shirt on and his hands are wrapped around her waist and his curly hair is sprawled out on the pillow underneath him. The girl is running her fingers through his hair and kissing him widely. The scene makes me feel sick and I drop my noodle bowl. There's a crash and Alex pushes the girl off him, sitting up and craning his neck to look out his doors.
I quickly close the gap in the curtain and run downstairs, fetching a cloth to clean up the mess. Tears pour down my face as I wipe up the mess. They don't stop when I try to wipe them away.
Honestly, I don't know why I'm crying. But... to see him with another girl... That hurts like hell.
But maybe this is the kind of thing that should be happening. I'm never going to be with him. I have to get over him. Maybe he should just keep kissing other girls and breaking my heart over and over again until I'm immune to it.
It shouldn't hurt this much. It shouldn't feel so bad. I shouldn't feel like I'm the one he's supposed to be kissing 24/7. It shouldn't. It definitely shouldn't.
I pick up my bowl (which surprisingly is not cracked) and fork, and carry them back downstairs, turning on the next episode of Riverdale to drown my sorrows in looking at Cole Sprouse's beautiful face.
***
Sunday comes around too fast. Way too fast. Before I know it, I'm getting changed into a baggy hoodie and denim shorts to have the Collins' over for lunch. I sigh as I twist my hair up into a messy bun and push the strands behind my ears, chucking on my flip flops and running downstairs.
"Hey, Nat, honey," Mum says, pulling a fresh meringue pie out of the oven and plating it up. "Could you help me with this?"
"Sure," I say, pulling the strawberries and icing sugar out of the fridge and cabinets. I start cutting the strawberries up beside Mum. "So... Mum, I do have quite a bit of study to-"
"Nope," Mum cuts me off with a wave of her hand. "You and Alex have to either get yourselves together or put whatever happened behind you, ok? Because you owe Jackson and Michelle that right."
I sigh and nod, placing the strawberries on the platter. "And honey, it might not even be that bad!"
I bite my lip and nod, just as the doorbell rings. I follow Mum to the front door and stand awkwardly behind her as she opens it and greets the neighbours. I can't help noticing that Alex isn't with them.
"Where's Alex?" Paul asks, skipping around the corner.
"He's at the cafe this morning, but he'll join us shortly!" Michelle says brightly, ushering Felecia inside, out of the pouring rain outside. Paul nods and the group of us make our way to the dining room table inside. Dad's sitting there already, reading the morning newspaper.
"Hi everyone!" he says as though he's been practising that. He puts down his newspaper and stands up like an unstable butler. I squint at him. He gives Jackson the man-shake and Michelle a quick kiss on the cheek.
We all sit down at the table and eat the food Mum's made.
"This is delicious!" Felecia says, halfway in. Mum smiles and thanks her. The adults chat for a while before I turn to Felecia.
"How's it going?" I ask her.
"It's all G," she says. "How about you?"
"It's all G," I reply, smiling. She grins back.
"Have you and Alex spoken yet?" she asks. I look down at my plate, the chicken, mayo and iceberg lettuce sandwich not looking as appetizing.
"Kind of," I say quietly.
"Mhm," she says, chewing on a bit of chicken. "I see. And do you have anything to do with the fact that he came home on Monday looking more depressed than usual?"
I roll my eyes. "No."
"Ok, then, if you're sure," she smiles evilly and I eat another bite of my sandwich. The door opens and Alex enters, shaking out his messy hair.
He's wearing a suit, his black tie half undone under his jacket. He runs his hands through his wet curls and sits down on his seat.
"Sorry I'm late," he says. "They had a wedding reception thing on."
"Oh, its all fine, honey," Mum beams at him. "You didn't miss much! There are sandwiches there if you like."
"Thanks," Alex says, reaching for one. I watch him and his eyes briefly flick over to me, sending a shiver down my spine. I don't look at him after that.
"And so you two have both submitted your Oxford applications?" Jackson asks, taking another sandwich from the platter.
"Yeah," I say at the same time that Alex says:
"Yup."
He's in a good mood. Maybe some girl hooked up with him at the wedding. I bet she was tan and blonde and curvy and blue-eyed and sexy. And I bet she was wearing a skimpy red dress. And I bet he was threading his hands through her hairsprayed hair.
I don't eat another bite of my lunch. Alex makes conversation with Dad and the only sound in the room that I can hear is the sound of his voice.
When lunch is finished I rush up to my room, collapsing on my bed. I sigh and pull The Great Gatsby down off the shelf. I try to start reading but it doesn't work. I sigh and place the book over my head, leaning back on the pillows.
What the hell am I going to do?
I'm in love with him. He's in love with me.
He's going around with other girls.
I'm just staying at home like a homie.
I slowly drift off to sleep.
***
I walk into school on Monday in normal clothes. I'm sitting in the library before school when Amanda approaches me.
"Ready to start Plan A?" she asks. I pack up my stuff.
"Sure am," I say.
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efwbkiwrebgifle4ryuigh34eiuh4tper3
HBelloooo
Short chapter... sorrry
SORRYU ABOUT FIFTY SHADES OF BLUE AGAIN. THE FIRST BIT (SWEAR WORD) WAS WRITTEN BY MY FRIEND. And after that followed some very questionable stuffff.
byeeeeeeeeeeeee