a/n: So I actually wrote this FOREVER ago, and it’s not much. But I noticed I put it on fictionpress, so I figure I should probably post it here, too.

———————

Seth was still rambling on, but I didn’t comprehend a word he was saying. Mr. Bloomgard was still jotting problems all over the board, but my pencil did not move from its position in the center of my notebook.

A dance? Really? On St. Patty’s Day? Was that entirely necessary?

Maybe I wasn’t internalizing what Seth was saying, but his tone was undeniable: he was extremely, inexplicably, and overly excited. My opinion of the word “dance” boiled down to run away as quickly as possible as far as possible in the exact opposite direction.

I turned around and mimicked cutting off my own head, my hand passing along my throat. “Stop, Seth. You’re babbling.” Maybe my tone was a little harsh, but he was frustrating me. His eyes widened as I flipped back around to face the board.

I told myself to focus on the calculus and stay out of panic mode. I would just have to avoid the dance at any cost. As soon as the bell rang, I turned back to Seth.

“No dance talk, okay?”

He stared blankly back at me. “Why not? I mean, I know you don’t like them, but could it really be that bad?” He started to push out his lower lip in a pout; I placed my fingers over his mouth.

“Not right now. Let me think about it.” Which actually meant let me think of the most plausible and convincing excuse I could use to get out of setting a foot into our gym for a dance. The gym had enough bad memories tied to it as it was – P.E. never was my strong point.

Seth nodded, but I knew he wouldn’t be able to hold back asking me to go with him for long. I gathered my books and made my way to my locker, Seth right behind me.

“See you in chem,” he said as I leaned over to unclick my lock. His hand brushed one of my own, and then he was on his way.

I stared at his retreating back because I just couldn’t seem to help myself.

ooOoo

Chemistry was nothing out of the ordinary. We took pages and pages of notes on intermolecular forces. I thought my head would explode if I tried to convince it to understand one more abstract concept. It didn’t help that Seth kept nudging my knee with his and brushing his fingers across the back of my hand. He didn’t mention the dance again, but that didn’t stop the rest of the population from talking about it. It wasn’t just the girls; the guys seemed genuinely excited, too.

I was the odd one out, apparently.

I headed straight to English – I had all but memorized Romeo and Juliet anyways – and Seth followed me, entwining our free hands together.

“You’re quiet.” He didn’t look at me, but kept his gaze on the mass of teenagers in front of us.

“And?”

He shrugged. “I just hope it wasn’t my fault. I didn’t mean to upset you with the dance…” He pulled me over to a water-fountain. “We don’t have to go. Well, I guess since we aren’t dating or whatever the right thing to say would be that you don’t have to go with me. But if you don’t go, I’m not going to go either. There’d be no point.” His deep blue eyes stared intently at mine.

I looked away. “I just don’t want to talk about it. I hate dances-” He pulled his hand from my own and placed it under my chin, forcing me to look at his face. I still didn’t meet his eyes.

“Kate.” He lifted my face; my eyes made contact with his. “We don’t have to go. I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to bring it up. I’ll give you more space, okay?” He dropped his hand and started to step back.

My mind was racing through all the possibilities. I could pull him back and say I’d go to the dance, but I didn’t know if I wanted that. I could just let him, or rather make him, walk away. The thought of that pained me, even though I knew he wouldn’t go forever unless he knew one-hundred percent I wanted him to go. But I realized in that moment that “space” was the last thing I wanted.

The bell rang shrilly as Seth moved away. My hand shot out and caught onto his forearm.

“Wait.” I took a deep breath. “I’m not upset, just overwhelmed. But know that space is definitely not what I want – or need – right now.” I stared up at him as his expression relaxed. He grinned.

“In that case…” He pulled me closer and placed his lips gently on my forehead. “Let’s go to English.”

ooOoo

We separated at the door because there was only one seat by Michelle, and I was definitely taking it. Seth sat in the back with a bunch of his friends. I slipped into the desk and laughed under my breath: Michelle was visibly trembling with excitement. I knew she wanted to discuss that dance, and I didn’t have a problem with it as long as we didn’t focus on the dance as it pertained to me.

Shell opened her mouth to let out the overflow of words, but the teacher chose that moment to announce that we’d be in small discussion groups today, two to four people to each group. I glanced back at Seth’s eager face, and shook my head. Shell needed to get the dance stuff out of her system before she spontaneously combusted.

As soon as the rest of the class was loudly chattering, not even attempting to hide their discussion of all topics excluding Romeo and Juliet, Michelle let out a shriek of joy.

“A dance!! Can you believe it? I’m so excited! Are you going with Seth? When are we getting our dresses? Do you think they have to be green? Wanna get our nails done? Ooh!! Can I do your hair?? You know, you have to wear eyelin-” Her torrent was rudely interrupted by my hand before the word ‘eyeliner’ fully emerged from her lips. I shuddered mentally at the thought of bringing one of those pointy objects anywhere near my face.

“Breathe, Shell.” I pulled my hand away as she nodded. “And I draw the line at eyeliner. No pun intended.”

She glared at me. “Fine; I’ll just use lots of eyeshadow.”

“Who says I’m even going?” I knew before I said it that it was the wrong question to ask. Shell’s eyes grew wide, and I could tell she was about to unleash. “That was rhetorical, number one. And number two, I don’t want to talk about me and the dance.” A frown emerged on her face. “You and Michael and the dance is fine, however.” I was amazed at how quickly the dismal look on her face transformed into one of excited anticipation.

“Ooohh!! You think he’ll ask me?”

I rolled my eyes inside at her somewhat clueless question. “I know he’ll ask you.”

drifting, drifting, drifting

it seems the sun behind me
has shut its doors
the past is past
memories fleeting
but the light before me
dances away
the future is future
dreams unreachable

I am caught in between
drifting, drifting, drifting

Who’s your favorite superhero cover? Mine’s Clark Kent!!

So it seems that I am posting these now, ’cause no one else gets on and does it, and I need something to do when I have three hours to spare of my life. 

So, say you like a guy. He’s a great guy and makes life in general fun, and he’s a pretty good friend. You’ve been fighting it for a month, and you don’t really want to like him for this reason or that.  However, one day you just lose the fight.  Now you’re faced with a question. Do you tell the guy and get it out, or do you carry on your friendship like you don’t like him, and let it sit there?

“I dreamed I was a butterfly.”

“Could you fly?”

“No, I was more butter than fly.”

My hand paused in its perusal of the endless line of books, and my head tilted towards the left as I strained to hear the entirely strange yet intriguing conversation.

“Oh. Did you melt?”

“What? Why?”

I peered around the shelf to see a tall man (well, boy, really) holding the hand of a little girl and leading her away from where I was currently spying.

“You said you were butter!” the little girl accused.

“Yeah, but I was dreaming.” I stepped back behind the bookcases as the two began to turn around. “Never mind. You’ve gotten me off-track, and now we’ve passed the shelf.” His voice was much closer than I had anticipated, and suddenly the pair was directly across from me, only a shelf between us. I heard him mumbling to himself as he searched for whatever title he wanted.

His voice was quite nice to listen to.

“Almost done, Callie.” In my mind, I could see her little hand tugging impatiently on his; my little brother often did the same thing. Callie. That was a cute name.

I bent down and chanced a peak through the open shelves behind the books. Two denim-clad legs stood next to two considerably smaller legs cloaked in a deep purple skirt. I looked through the next shelf up and was met with a pair of grey eyes.

“Reese, there’s a girl staring at me!”

Immediately, my pale skin flushed bright red. I escaped to the bathroom as quickly as I could. As soon as I was safe, I realized that I hadn’t seen his face. But I did know his name: Reese. Not that I would ever see him again. Then again, with the way I had embarrassed myself, I wasn’t sure I wanted to, no matter how promising his voice sounded.

ooOOOoo

Two days later, I found myself at the bookstore again; it was rather hard for me to ever stay away. I was reclining in a cushioned chair, reading, and sipping on a strawberry smoothie when I heard that voice again.

“Remember? Last time, there was this girl spying on us; it was so weird.” I blushed violently, realizing the little girl was talking about me. How many other bookstore creepers could there be? I stared intently at my book, hoping the intelligent grey eyes wouldn’t recognize me with my hair wrapping around my face like a curtain. When the girl passed, I finally looked up. She was with a tall guy again, who I assumed to be Reese. As he turned to answer Callie, I could see the side of his face. I didn’t see much, but what I saw matched his voice. I stared longingly as he meandered down an aisle with Callie at his side, his brown-haired head leaning down every time he answered his sister. As I replayed his voice in my head, I prayed there was another Reese out there somewhere, one who I actually had a chance at dating.

ooOOOoo

I went back to the bookstore several times in the next few weeks, but Callie and her brother never made any appearances. That I saw, anyways. I felt like a real stalker, but I couldn’t help but think about Reese: his voice,  the way he talked to his little sister. His slight attachment to bookstores. It was wishful thinking, but I did want to see him again; maybe I could even get a look at his whole face.

ooOOOoo

“Where’d you say you saw him?” I was with my best friend, Sam, and she was questioning me about Reese as we dug through the CD selection at the bookstore.

“Over there somewhere.” I gestured to the fiction section of the store. “Aha!” I yanked out a CD I’d that had been calling my name for weeks. “Found it.” Sam followed me to the cash register.

“Do you think you’ll see him again?” Sam asked, leaning against the counter as she played with a curl of her deep auburn hair. “I mean, do you want to? Was he hot??” I shrugged in reply, handing the cashier a twenty.

“The half of his face I saw was.” My face turned a little pink. Good thing the cashier was a girl; I would have killed Sam otherwise.

“There’s that girl again!” I spun around to see Callie in a light blue dress standing next to Reese. He looked a bit different – then again, I was seeing his entire face. Of course, it did not disappoint. He stared at me quizzically as Sam tugged on my shirt in obvious excitement. Apparently, she was impressed.

“Hi!! I’m sure Chelsey didn’t mean to stare!  I’m Sam!” She waved and then grimaced when I elbowed her in the ribs. I did not need any more embarrassing moments. Callie smiled at me hesitantly. “I’m Callie.” Reese nodded his head at Sam, but his intense, blue-eyed stare never left my face.

“I’m Reese.” He scratched his arm as we stood silently; I mentally cringed at the awkwardness. I would forever be known as the bookstore stalker. The thought made pink creep up my cheeks. “Uhhh, it was nice meeting you.” He said it like a question. “We’ve got to go. Bye!” I gave a pitiful wave in reply as the two scurried off. As soon as they were out of sight, I glared at Sam and stalked off myself.

ooOOOoo

I tried to stave off my bookstore addiction for the next few days, but I caved rather quickly. Saturday morning, a week after actually talking to Reese instead of just wistfully staring at him, found me in jeans and an old t-shirt, lounging in my favorite chair in a quiet corner while a stack of books rested on my feet.

I devoured my piña-colada smoothie too quickly, and when I stood to buy a refill, a familiar face caught my eye. It was Reese, of course. My heart sped up a little, although I should’ve been used to this spontaneous meeting thing we seemed to be doing so often.

I turned quickly so he wouldn’t spot me, but I was too late.

“Chelsey, right?” his deep voice rang out behind me. I blushed involuntarily and reluctantly twisted to face him.

“Uh, yeah,” I nodded and waved awkwardly.

He smirked a little. “I’m Reese.”

“Yeah, I know.” I pointed to my chair. “Well, I was just…reading. I…umm…left my purse over there, so I’d better get back. Bye!” I dashed off, barely hearing his “bye” in reply. When my butt touched the cushion, I realized I still held an empty cup in my hand.

ooOOOoo

I was walking to the kid’s section, my little brother in tow, when I heard Callie’s voice again.  Thank goodness this time she wasn’t talking to me.

“C’mon, David; let’s go over here for a minute.” I tugged on his hand, attempting to lead him towards the fiction section.

“Aw, Chels, I want to go read my books!” I sighed as he yanked his hand from mine and dashed into the kid’s section. I followed him reluctantly and prayed I wouldn’t embarrass myself in front of any gorgeous guys today, although the odds were against me.

I grabbed the first young adult book I saw and slid next to David on a bench. I was a few chapters in when I found myself blushing again.

“She must live here!!” Callie whispered, but her whisper wasn’t nearly soft enough. Though her tone wasn’t mean, I could practically feel her eyes on me. I turned my head a little and glanced out of the corner of my eye. There were two sets of eyes on me: Callie’s astute grey stare, along with Reese’s deep green eyes. My head jerked to peek at my brother, who appeared to be absorbed in a book, and then back down to the pages in my lap.  I couldn’t concentrate; the stares were too unsettling.

Wait – didn’t Reese have blue eyes? Before I could get enough courage to turn around and check, they were gone. But when David and I finally headed out, I spotted Callie and Reese buying drinks. Reese’s back was turned, but Callie was looking up, so I shyly waved as we passed through the heavy glass doors.

ooOOOoo

The next time I spotted Reese at the bookstore, he was alone. We chatted a little about AP classes, (I was buying workbooks to help me study and hopefully pass), and he told me he was taking some himself. The conversation was awkward at first, but it got better. My dating opportunity was slowly slipping away; this seemed destined for friendship.

Another week or so passed by, and Reese and I started purposefully meeting at the bookstore. We were getting closer, but my earlier prediction was correct: it was just a friendship. Mostly we only shared a love of books. Reese was a sports lover – me, not so much. I spent time watching movies and baking cookies; he played video games and went paintballing.  But we got along, and I really enjoyed talking to him.

I hadn’t found a boyfriend in the bookstore, but I had found a good friend.

ooOOOoo

I was in the bookstore once again, this time to buy a specific book for school. I was surprised to spot Reese alone by the CDs; he hardly ever bought music here, stating it was too overpriced.

“Reese, hey!” I was about to give him a friendly hug when he turned around, and his green-eyed gaze met mine. My mind spazzed for a moment – Reese had blue eyes. “Did you get contacts, or do your eyes just change color?”

He stared blankly back at me. “No…do I know you?”

“Umm, yeah. Name’s Chelsey? We meet here a lot on accident? Drank smoothies at that table over there sometime last week?” I pointed to the café area. “Ringing any bells?” I was both frustrated and flustered. What was with him today? Did the eye-color switch erase his memory? Why hadn’t I heard about this dual-personality thing before?

“Oh, you’re that girl Callie told me about.” His face lit up in humorous recognition. “The bookstore stalker?”

I blushed in response, but I couldn’t say anything. I mean, honestly, Reese and I had been friends for awhile now. “Reese? Anyone in there?” I would’ve knocked on his head, but this was getting way weird. Awkwardness followed me around like a lovesick puppy.

Alien-Reese, as I had decided to call him, chuckled a little. “Sorry, I’ve confused you.” He scratched his head in a way very reminiscent of the normal Reese I knew. “I’m not Reese. He didn’t tell you he had a brother?”

My brain stopped, and I shook my head dumbly.

“Well, uh, I’m his twin, Chandler.”

I nodded stupidly again. “Ok, well, sorry to bother you.” I was out of the bookstore in milliseconds. Why did these things always happen to me? And Reese was so dead next time I saw him. A twin? Really?

Boys.

ooOOOoo

The bookstore was the last place I wanted to be – the embarrassment from the Chandler episode was still strong – but Reese had left me a voicemail asking me to meet with him at the bookstore’s cafe. I was on my way to kick his butt in Scrabble.

I slid into a chair at our usual table and set up the game. I was tempted to go ahead and draw my tiles so I’d get a head start, but I knew the right thing to do would be to wait for Reese.

“Hey, Chelsey.” I watched him as he plopped into the seat across from me. He looked sort of remorseful, but you could never be sure. “I really am sorry about Chandler. I should’ve mentioned him, but I thought Callie had already introduced him to you. She said she saw you when she was with him once or twice.”

I sighed. “I’m not mad, just pretty embarrassed.” I put on my game face. “But I still plan on totally slaughtering you with my magical word prowess.” I laughed when he glared back at me.

“Oh yeah? Just you wait. You’ll be sorry you wanted to challenge me, Chels.” He pulled a tile out for each of us; he got to go first.

As tiles quickly filled up the board, the lead kept bouncing between the two of us. I wasn’t worried yet, though. When I played “JOWL” for a whopping 53 points, I saw a flicker of fear in Reese’s eyes. Then he nodded discreetly, looking over my head at something behind me. He nodded again and then played “CLOVER” for 36 points. He grinned smugly, and I stared down at my tiles. There was no way I was going to let him win this. Sadly, my seven letters were anything but inspiring on this turn.

And then there was a voice in my ear. “Play those,” a hand pointed to a few tiles, “on that ‘Z’ and make ‘OOZING’. ” I shuddered at the warm breath on my ear and turned my head to see Reese’s face with startling green eyes. I blushed against my will.

“Chandler. Uh, thanks.” I placed my tiles on the board while Reese protested.

“Chandler, you were supposed to be helping me!” He glared playfully at his brother. “Thanks a lot; she’s totally killing me here.” I smiled a little as Chandler pulled up a chair beside me.

“I gave you ‘CLOVER,’ so shut up,” he retorted. “Besides, why would I only help one of you? That’s unfair, you know.”

“Her vocabulary is unfair.” Reese laid out tiles for a measly 8 points. “Let’s just say no more help, okay?” Reese looked at me, and I laughed.

“I’m not the one who asked for it, Reese, but okay.”

Let’s just say I completely kicked his butt, and Reese, the sore loser, had Chandler laughing almost to tears by the time he finally gave up.

ooOOOoo

Reese and I kept meeting at the library to talk, read, play Scrabble re-matches (which I always won), and catch up. Because I often brought David and he often came with Callie, they became friends, too. Our good friend status quickly elevated to best friend. I could talk to him more than most of my girl friends. Chandler I didn’t see as often, but that was okay with me. Somehow, his green eyes always managed to make my nerves a mess.

ooOOOoo

One afternoon, I hung around in the fiction section after beating Reese in Uno, his new game of choice.  I was flipping through the books when I spotted someone staring at me through the shelves. I shivered a little, but relaxed when I realized I recognized the green eyes peering into my own brown ones.

“Chandler?” He nodded in response, waved sheepishly and then walked off with books in his hands. It was weird, but I had no right to say anything. Actually, I felt relieved; apparently, I wasn’t the only one staring at people through bookshelves.

ooOOOoo

Reese was on the basketball team, and as practice picked up, I found myself alone at the bookstore more and more frequently. I missed his corny jokes and good conversation, but I had all the books for comfort. The only thing was that I always felt like I was being watched. Maybe it was my imagination, but I couldn’t shake it off. When he wasn’t with me, I got a little nervous.

I was in my chair of choice one night, sipping on a berry smoothie this time, and reading when someone plopped down into the chair next to me. I looked up to see Chandler gazing at me through those gorgeous green eyes. I sighed; every time I saw him, I had the same nervous reaction. I wanted to shake my attraction – he was my best friend’s brother, and not only were they siblings, they were twins – but I couldn’t squelch the pull I felt towards him.

I closed my book and set it on the floor. “Hey, Chandler.” He didn’t answer me, and when I waved my hand in front of his face, he grabbed it. I wondered if he felt the same electricity that flowed from his hand to mine when he touched me.

“Chelsey…” He looked down at our hands as the awkward silence stretched on. “I…umm…” He reached over to cup my cheek, and as his face came closer, my heartbeat skyrocketed. I leaned in, and his lips hesitantly brushed mine. He jumped back as color burned in both of our faces. “I’m sorry! I didn’t…”

This unconfident, bumbling side of Chandler was rather confusing.  “Sorry for?” I asked, my cheeks still a bright red.

“For kissing you. That wasn’t supposed to happen. Yet, anyways.” He ran his hands through his dark hair. “I’ve been…man, this is gonna sound so creepy, but I’ve been watching you. Reese goes on and on about you, and when I met you, I was quite intrigued. The Scrabble game was fun, and almost every time Reese comes here, I come with him, and then spy on you two.”

My jaw dropped a little.

“Crap, you’re freaked out.” His hands covered his face. I pulled his fingers away from his eyes.

“Not freaked out, just a little shocked. It’s not every day someone stares at you in a bookstore.” We laughed a little at the irony.

“Well, I came over here today to tell you that I…” he coughed a little, “I like you. I mean, you’re smart, and pretty, and funny, and interesting…I didn’t want to say anything because of Reese. I mean, it must be weird to date the copy of your best friend, but I was hoping…” I grabbed onto his hand.

“Reese doesn’t have green eyes.” I closed the gap between us and grazed his lips with mine. “If this is the ‘Do you like me?’ question, I check yes.”

Turns out I did meet my boyfriend in a bookstore.

hey… no one has been here for a good century or two, and I get bored in my TA period.  so come on guys…

let’s try to think of something…

 

so I, Erika, have read through all the writing weeks we have had, and this question, suprisingly, has not popped up. so here goes..

Who is your role model and why?

[polldaddy poll=1169497]

Look! We can add polls now! So pick your fav. I think you can mix options……maybe….heh.

=)

 

I was expecting, once the weekend was over, that Seth was going to jump even more headfirst into things than he was already. School was naturally somewhere I didn’t want to be; the idea that Seth would be all over me was even more of a disconsolation. Full boyfriend and girlfriend behavior was not on my agenda. We were supposed to be just-friends.

 

As I walked through the school’s entrance, I knew that it was my fault. I had given him too much liberty this weekend. The kissing, the flirting – it was only natural that he would increase his attentions if I responded in the way he wanted me to react.

 

Michelle was resting against my locker door and scooted over as I reached to flip open my lock.

 

“Hey,” she said, smiling briefly then turning back to her homework.

 

“Where’s Michael?” I shoved all my textbooks into my locker. I wasn’t exactly finished with all of my homework, but I was too tired to care.  On second thought, I pulled my Spanish stuff back out. I could at least get that finished before school.

 

“Sick.” Shell replied.

 

“Sick?” I peered at her face and noticed that she looked rather sick and tired herself. “What about you? Are you feeling okay?”

 

“Yeah…” She answered with a sigh. “…just tired, as always.”  I shrugged and continued to stuff my back-pack into my locker. When I finally got it in, the stupid door wouldn’t close. I pushed my leg against it and tried to get the door shut enough to click the lock closed.

 

“A little help here, Shell?”

 

“Hmm?” She finally glanced up, but her eyes quickly flicked to something behind me.

 

“Helps if the buckle isn’t in the way, Kate.” I whipped around at Seth’s voice, subsequently moving away from my locker and letting the door creak back open. He kept walking towards me, and I was about to take a quick and somewhat unnecessary trip to the water-fountain, but he just pushed my back-pack further into the deep, dark depths of my locker, shut the door, and clicked the lock closed. He raised an eyebrow at my about-to-flee stance, and I blushed. “Wasn’t going to attack you,” he mumbled, turning to go to his own locker. As he brushed past, he let his fingers graze my hands, and bent to whisper in my ear. “Not that I didn’t want to.”

 

My blush spread all the way to my ears that were now probably as bright as a firetruck. Good thing I’d worn my hair down.

 

I stared at his retreating back until Michelle let out a cough.

 

“Wanna…explain…that?” she asked while gasping for air. I just turned towards her, raising my eyebrows.

 

“You want to explain that?” I gestured to the hand covering her mouth and her incessant coughing.

 

“What?” she asked innocently. Her hoarse throat totally killed the tone of voice she was going for.

 

“You’re sick. Michael’s sick.” My finger went to my chin, and I scrunched my face, acting as if I was deep in thought. “There aren’t any logical deductions there. No way.” I dropped my pose as Shell’s face turned pink, and I couldn’t stop the chuckle from bubbling out of my throat.

 

She just stared down at her homework. “There’s nothing for me to explain. Nothing at all. You, however, have lots of explaining to do.” I shook my head.

 

“I’m not sharing if you aren’t.” With that, I turned away and headed for the library.

 

“Where’re you going?” Shell called behind me.

 

“To share my secrets with my other best friend, of course.” I grinned wickedly to myself, waiting for her protests. I was surprised when they didn’t echo through the hallways. Instead, I heard footsteps, slowing as whoever it was neared me.

 

“Secrets??? Oh, do share.” The high-pitched voice, definitely not Michelle’s, squeaked piercingly into my ear.

 

“Introducing Seth the creeper,” I mumbled under my breath.

 

“What’d you say?” he asked in a normal voice. And then in his sad imitation of a girl, “You aren’t keeping secrets from me, are you? Or calling me names behind my back?” I rammed my elbow into his ribs. “Ow! Geez, Kate. Put that thing away.”

 

“Then stop talking like a girl,” I retorted.

 

“Oh, that was because of my amazing―,” my elbow made its way to his side again, “―I mean, horribly awful acting? I thought it was because I’m a so-called creeper.”

 

“Both.”

 

He stopped abruptly in the middle of the hallway. “Ouch, that hurt, Kate.”

 

I told myself that I wouldn’t peer behind me, but I couldn’t help myself when a jarring thud rang out through the hallway. It was quite a funny sight: Seth was standing by himself in the center of the hallway with his books scattered around his feet, a wounded expression on his face, and both hands covering his heart.

 

I laughed and almost kept walking, but turned around despite myself.

 

“I think you’ll live.”

 

“And what if I don’t?” he asked, dropping his hands. “Will you try to revive me?”

 

“Over my dead body.” I flipped around then and reached the library doors as his bounding steps trailed behind me. 

 

“You don’t mean that.” He said, following me into the serene, comfortable space. His infinite energy clashed with the atmosphere, and the juxtaposition made me smile.

 

“How do you know?” I asked, dropping into a chair and pulling out my Spanish homework: more dreadful conjugations. But Seth grabbed onto my hand and pulled me to a back corner of the library. I stared indignantly at him as he set his books gently on the floor and then flopped down beside them.

 

“See?” he asked. “I’m dying.” He proceeded to gasp for air and grasp his chest like his heart was about to come flying out at any moment. “Help!” he cried, albeit softly because of our surroundings. I just shook my head.

 

“Seth, this is ridiculous. Get off the floor.” I rolled my eyes and stuck my hand out. “Come on, I’ll help you up.”

 

He ignored me. “…need…air. Won’t…any…one…help…me?”

 

I nudged his leg with my foot. Miraculously, the gasping stopped.

 

“Please?” he said. “Air? I’m dying here. You can’t just walk away.”

 

“Can too,” I answered, taking one step back to the main area of the library and then sighing. “But I won’t. At least stand up first – there’s no way I’m getting on the floor.” His long fingers wrapped around mine and as he pulled himself up, he tugged me closer. I stared up at him, waiting for the kiss that should have been coming but wasn’t for reasons unbeknownst to me. I was both aggravated and relieved at the same time: all that flirting for nothing? But kissing in the library was risky business, after all. Getting caught meant a definite detention.

 

“Well? Gonna up my air supply now?” The smirk on his face was so…so…I had no choice but to wrap my hands around his neck and wipe it off.  His arms found their way around my waist, closing the gap between us even more.  When I pulled back, we were both breathing a little heavy.

 

“You know, Seth, I don’t think that really helped your air supply; quite the opposite, actually.” I shook my head at his logic. It was silly, but somehow life seemed to always work out in his favor. Then again, maybe I was just a push-over. Nevertheless, my quest to keep only friendship between us was definitely being overridden, no thanks to Seth or my crazy teenager hormones. “Did someone spike your orange juice this morning?”

 

“Didn’t have any OJ, so no.”

 

“Ah, then it must’ve been those tainted cheerios.”

 

He just grinned at me then bent down to pick up the books that had fallen from my hands along with his own stack.

 

As we headed out of the wall of shelves, a cough sounded out behind us. I turned quickly, fearing some faculty member had seen Seth and me, but it was only a freshman frantically texting on her cell phone. I sighed in relief, Seth chuckling at my panic behind me. We stepped out the doors just as the warning bell rang.

 

“Hand me my books, Seth. I’ve got to go back to my locker.” He slid them into my arms, tugged on a loose piece of my hair and headed to calculus.

 

“See you in class?” he asked over his shoulder.

 

“Nah, I’m skipping,” I called back, shaking my head. Where else would I go, goody-two-shoes student that I was?

 

I grabbed my textbook and then headed to calculus, almost dropping my calculator at least three times. As I passed by the office, I saw a group of girls huddled around the student message board. Their high-pitched chattering was only getting more excited as they continued to mingle amongst themselves, eyes glued to a poster with glittery writing covering every inch of its green surface. While I was interested in discovering the source of all of the hullabaloo, I wasn’t intrigued enough to force my way through the gaggle of girls, so I trudged on to calculus, saving the mystery for later.

 

Little did I know that Seth had already discovered what all the fuss was about and was ready to ambush me. As soon as my foot crossed the threshold of the classroom, he was hovering at my side.

 

“So, Kate, have you heard the news?” he asked, grinning widely at me, his blue eyes twinkling with excitement. I sidestepped him and headed for my desk.

 

“Nope, but I’m guessing it has something to do with the growing blob of girls circling the bulletin board outside the office.” I dropped my books on my desk and watched resignedly as my calculator slid to the floor. Seth bent to pick it up.

 

“Don’t you want to know what’s going on?” he asked, fiddling with my calculator cover before finally yanking it off.

 

“Well, I suppose I do, since you so desire to tell me.” I flopped into my seat and snatched my calculator from his hands. “I’ll be needing that. You know your seat is over there, right?” I pointed to his stack of books on top of a desk in the corner.

 

“Nah, I’ll sit here.” He slid into the desk behind me and got one of his other friends to pass him his books. His friend nodded his head at me and winked to Seth when he thought I wasn’t looking. Ugh. I wasn’t sure I was gonna like this news.

 

As Mr. Bloomgard read the attendance list, Seth leaned his head towards my ear.

 

“How many holidays are in March?” I turned my head slightly towards his.

 

“Uh, one?” He stared at me, waiting for me to elaborate. “Ummm…the Ides of March?” He laughed.

 

“Caesar’s death doesn’t count as a holiday, sorry. Try again.”

 

“Ummm….I got nothing.” I pulled my notes out because Mr. Bloomgard was about to start scribbling examples all over the board, and I would need every single one to finish my homework. Seth apparently didn’t take the hint.

 

“Come on. Little green men? Rainbows?? Pots of gold??? Ringing any bells here?” I turned to face him.

 

“St. Patrick’s Day? Since when does any thing of importance happen on St. Patty’s Day?”

 

“This year.” He smirked at me.

 

“Whatever for?” I was still facing him and praying Mr. Bloomgard wasn’t going too fast.

 

“Well, there’s gonna be a-”

 

“Kate.” Aww crap. Speak of the devil. Mr. Bloomgard was staring right at me, or the back of my head, rather. “Do you have eyes in the back of your head?”

 

“No, sir,” I answered sheepishly.

 

“Then I suggest you take notes and stop flirting with your…friend.  I’ll treat you like two third graders and assign you seats in opposite corners of the room if you keep this up.” Mr. Bloomgard turned back to the board. I blushed, feeling everyone’s eyes on me. Seth brushed his finger against the side of my neck; it was meant to comfort, but it did the exact opposite- my face went even redder, and my heartbeat skyrocketed. I jerked away and hastily started copying the notes, not even caring if Seth finished his sentence.

 

He cared, though, because two seconds didn’t go by before I felt his breath on my neck again.

 

“There’s gonna be a dance.”

 

I dropped my pencil and fell back into my seat with a huff.

 

Crap. Crap, crap, crap.

We play a game

We pass the blame

Who’s staring at who?

OK, I confess

I was looking at you

But you were staring at me

Don’t think I didn’t see

A small, guilty smile

Makes my heart stop for a while

Now I smile too 

And confess

“I like you.”

A daydream escape

Lets me leave this place

The teacher’s dull voice

Usually booming and loud

Sounds rather like rain

When your head’s in a cloud

The carpet’s a meadow

Grassy and green

The walls disappear

Ground warm under my feet

I bask in the sun

Feeling so alive

Then my daydream escapes

And I answer “five?”