Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71967 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 360(@200wpm)___ 288(@250wpm)___ 240(@300wpm)
“It is,” he answers, still looking Hannah’s way.
“It’s not,” my face falls flat and even. “It’s really not.”
“You look pretty with makeup on,” he changes the subject, really looking at me now.
I actually smile, relieved that at least one person can have a normal, nice reaction to me.
I stay after school for math, since I totally failed the last test. Luckily, anyone is allowed to make it up, as long as we go through it in its entirety with Mrs. Stalling. There are twelve other people here, and that’s just today.
I’m clearly not the only one who doesn’t get this shit.
When 3:10 hits, I’m practically skipping out the door. I stop short in surprise, for as soon as I turn the corner to head back upstairs, I run into Mr. Harrington and Mr. Chevy. They’re standing in the middle of the hallway talking, with the entire boys track team lining the walls along the floor.
A few of the boys catch me skipping and laugh, and Mr. Harrington looks my way upon hearing the noise, pausing mid-conversation.
“Luci,” his smile is guarded. I give him a brief nod as I re-hoist my backpack over my shoulder and continue walking. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
The entire boys track team “ohhh’s” and “ahhhh’s” until Mr. Chevy’s burley voice quiets them. I give Mr. Harrington a look of approval as I continue past him and up the stairs.
Normally, I would go straight and to the left, towards the main entrance, but he caches me wavering and clears his throat.
“To the right,” he orders as I reach the top step.
I do as I’m told, not stopping until I reach his classroom.
The hallway is empty and quiet, and half the lights are already out. He walks past me and opens the door. I catch a whiff of his spicy cologne as he flips the light switch, swearing to myself I’ll go to the mall this weekend just so I can figure out exactly which one it is.
“Come in,” he stops just before the platform to his desk.
“I should get home,” I confess, leaning against the doorframe.
I hear footsteps behind me and peek around the door. It’s the girl who boldly touched his arm that time. She approaches, popping her head into the room.
“I thought you couldn’t stay after school today,” she smiles at him.
“I couldn’t, Madison,” he states plainly. “I have track practice.”
My heart swells over how differently he regards her than he does me.
“Luci just had a quick question and she normally can’t stay after,” he explains.
I offer the girl a small wave upon hearing my name, but her snobbish glare leaves me feeling unwelcomed.
“Oh,” her remark is short and crisp. “Well, I’ll see you in the morning then!” She flashes him a big smile before tossing her hair over her shoulder in some sort of grand exit.
“I should get going too,” I’m a little discouraged after seeing this girl, who clearly stays after school with him on a regular basis.
“Wait,” he holds up his hand and reaches forward to nothing. “You didn’t do well on your quiz today.” He lets out a small laugh before running his fingers through his hair. I want to desperately do that - run my fingers through his hair, down his neck, to his back, feeling him all over. “In fact, you did terrible,” his voice brings me back down to earth. “Even after I gave you a hint.”
“Yeah, bad day I guess,” I shrug.
“Yeah,” he agrees and my fists automatically ball. I’m either so mad I want to punch him or I’m desperately trying not to reach out and touch him. Probably a little of both.
The way his face suddenly falls instantly saddens me.
“Or maybe I’m just trying to do terribly on purpose, so I can stay after school and get help too,” I joke, my absurdly jealous jab at that Madison girl.
He laughs, breaking into one of the biggest grins I’ve ever seen.
“You’re trouble,” he shakes his head and we stand in an awkward silence for what feels like forever.
“Well,” I sigh. “I guess I should go.”
“Okay,” he swallows. I start to turn around to leave when I notice his hand shooting up again. “Wait,” he stops me. “I feel like what I said earlier came across a little strange,” his eyes turn fierce and extraordinary. “When I said you’re great the way you are,” his voice trails off and he closes his eyes and scrunches his face, like he’s struggling. “What I meant to say is… that I think you’re really beautiful.”
My mouth falls open and my heartbeat quickens. I can feel my pulse throbbing in my wrists and neck, so much so that I think I may combust.
“And I mean that in the most appropriate way possible,” he laughs, opening his eyes again. They radiate a blue, like the color of the most perfectly clear sky. “But maybe I should just stop talking to you before you turn me in or something.”