5 years ago
Flustered, I rush into my English class and take my usual seat in the back. The classroom was slowly starting to fill up.
I was a ball of nerves. This is the first time I'll see Weston since the bonfire. I doubt he'll even give me a second glance. I know guys like him. The jocks. They hump and they dump. I have no interest in becoming the dumpee.
I smoothed over my long straight hair and pulled out a book so I could have something else to focus on. Literally anything else.
A group of students rush in. I don't look up. I know he's in that group.
My heart races and my palms sweat. Why am I freaking out? It was just a hookup. Nothing more. Chill.
Virginity is a social construct. It doesn't mean anything. If anything I lost my virginity to a fucking tampon in the 7th grade. It doesn't mean anything.
Except I had sex with the most popular, stupid, beautiful, baseball player in the freaking school. And I ran off right after. I'm such an idiot. Why him? He's probably told all his friends and laughed about it. No, I don't think he would. He isn't that type of guy. I've seen him around campus. He's kind to everyone he meets. I've never heard anyone utter a negative word about him.
He probably forgot who I was the second I left him. He probably has tons of sex with girls he barely knows.
Focus, Natalie! I mentally slap myself and attempt to read my book. The words jumbled together, my brain unable to process them.
"Hey," a deep smooth voice next to me says.
I jump a little as I see Weston slide into the desk next to mine. Panic slips into me. He usually sits up front. With his friends. I glance around the room and see his group sitting in their normal seats glancing back at us pretending to be have a normal conversation.
I swallow. "Hi." I pretend to be engrossed in my novel.
He clears his throat. "You can read upside down? Impressive." He bites back a chuckle.
Mortified, I flip my book around and curse to myself. "Just practicing. I read somewhere that it um, helps with brain stuff."
Brain stuff? What the hell am I saying?
"Interesting. I'll have to try it out sometime. I need help with my brain stuff." He taps his knuckles to his head with a smirk on his lips.
Oh, god. I want to vomit. I'm such an idiot.
"You should. All that sports junk probably melts your brain." The snark comes out before I could stop myself.
He chuckles. "Maybe you could help me with that sometime."
He bit his full pink bottom lip and gave me what I assume to be his smolder that he probably uses on every other girl.
I roll my eyes. "I'm busy that day."
"I didn't say when."
I gulped.
Before I could reply, the bell rang signaling the start of class. Hastily I turn away from him and get my book and notes in order.
I see him do the same out of the corner of my eye.
God damn. He is fine. He's wearing a fitted white baseball tee with dark red sleeves. His dark shaggy hair was pushed back out of his face. His gorgeous and beautiful face.
He has a perfect square jaw, dimples and pink full lips. Lips that were on me just a couple of days ago. And those eyes. Bright vivid blue. The contrast against his hair was striking.
The teacher walks to the front of the class and starts droning on about today's lesson. I try to pay attention. I really do. But how on earth was I supposed to get this modern day Adonis out of my mind when he is right next to me?
A folded up note landed on my desk. I glanced at Weston and he had a smirk on his face.
I sighed and made a show of opening it really slowly.
Do U want 2 go to the winter formal with me?
I quirked an eyebrow. I was not expecting that.
I quickly scrawled
I thought it was girls choice?
I slid the note back to him, refusing to look at him. My face was bright red. I could feel it.
Ok, then ask me to the winter formal.
I stifled a laugh. Dear god.
I'm not going. Sry.
It was his turn to raise an eyebrow at me.
Why not? I look super hot in a tux.
I am sure you do, Weston. I am sure you do. I rolled my eyes at him.
Dances are lame. I'd rather stay home and watch romcoms and pig out. Much more fun.
It's a date then.
What? No. I shot him a look that said are you crazy?
He just smiled his toothy smile and shoved the note in his pocket.
I can't go on a date with him. I'll get attached. I don't want to get attached. Rumor has it he's being drafted next season to the MLB. There's no way we'd last.
The rest of class passed by in a blur, my heart pounding the whole time. The bell rang and everyone started packing up their work.
I turned to Weston.
"Are you insane?" I whisper yelled at him.
He smirked at me. "Yes, actually I am. What time should I pick you up?"
"Never." I stammered. "I don't do dates."
But I wanted to. I also didn't want to. What is wrong with me? I can't go on a date with him. I just can't.
"Actually, the winter formal is too far away. What are you doing this Friday?"
I stood and yanked my backpack around my shoulder. "I can't go on a date with you." I said in a meek voice.
He followed me out of the room and grabbed my hand when we got into the hall.
"Why not?" He pouted.
"Because you're you and I'm me. We're in two opposite worlds. It won't work."
Hurt flashed in his eyes for a split second, then he put on a mask of indifference.
I looked around desperately. Damn it. Now I feel bad. Just say yes.
"Look," I sighed and pulled him to the wall away from the rush of students. "What happened on Friday is not a big deal. You don't owe me anything. It's fine. I promise."
He leaned down, his blue eyes searching mine and caged me in against the wall. "Humor me. Just one date. If you still don't like me after then I will forget everything and pretend you don't resist. Deal?"
"Fine. You can pick me up at 7. And you're paying." With that I slipped out from under his arms and scurried off to my next class, heart pounding.
What is happening??
