Inside Of Her Mind

Chapter Three

I step outside the door, breathing in the air of New York state. I grip tightly onto my backpack, the straps hanging over my shoulders. It bounces as I walk, hitting my back repeatedly.

I cross sidewalks, walk down halls, all until I make my way to my English hall. Luckily, I had finished the writing that Professor Rostire required from us just in time. The room smells like nature, with plants hanging from the ceilings. The hall is filled with seats, the professor's desk smack dab in the middle on the floor. I'm early and see only a few other heads from the seats.

Professor Rostire notices me, and smiles all the way from the bottom. I return the smile and she waves her hand, directing to the rows. I nod, walking down the steps.

I've always loved this classroom. The smell, the decor, the drawings that are left on the chalkboard... it's homey. It helps that it's English too, my favorite subject. I squeeze through the third row and sit in my assigned seat. On one side of me is Ciarra, on the other is... nobody.

I reach into my backpack, unzipping it to do so. I pull out my hardcover copy of Sense and Sensibility, the book we're focusing on in class. When I sit up, I see a figure beside me. A tall and toned one. I jump, gasping.

"Shit!" I curse at the body, "Sorry, you scared me." I laugh, awkwardly, an almost painful laugh, considering I just cursed at a stranger. Their back is still turned to me. A simple white t-shirt that allows the muscles on their back to show through. They're sitting in the seat beside me, the seat that's always been empty...

"Hello?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows. This mystery person is either new, or in the wrong place.

The body shifts forward, their face facing mine. That's when I recognize those green eyes that stare back at me. The boy, the one I ran into on the street, is sitting beside me.

"Oh." he simply says, blankly, his eyes trailing up and down my body. As they do, pricks of shivers run down my spine. I shut my eyes and clear my throat, opening them afterwards... almost expecting him to be gone. When he isn't, I release a breath. I open my mouth to say, you're the guy I ran into. The really hot guy who I thought I'd never see again. But I decide that maybe it's best if I don't.

He clears his throat, lowering his bag on the floor. His face looks as if he doesn't have a care about our interaction. He is just a stranger, so why should he? I shouldn't.

I divert my attention to the piece of history that sits in my hands. It's new and smells of... well, fresh book. I flip through the pages carefully, making sure I don't crease or tear them by accident. My mind drives straight into the words, as if the world around me has disappeared and I'm in the realm of the Dashwoods.

"Psst." There's an interruption to my euphoria but it doesn't drive me away completely.

"Psssssst!" There it is again. This time, I'm back in reality. Looking to the voice of the interruption, Ciarra is staring at me, eyes wide and eyebrows raised.

I scrunch my brows. She's trying to tell me something without words, lord knows I can never understand her when she's like this.

"Is that the same guy from the street?" She whispers, leaning in closely. Professor Rostire begins speaking, but I'm hardly paying any attention. Ciarra's lips are curled into a devilish, excited smile and I roll my eyes.

"Yeah, big deal." Whispering back, I ignore her, turning forward and listening to our professor speak. Pressure hits my arm and I wince, immediately grabbing the spot, "Ow!" I whisper, turning to Ciarra, "The hell was that for?"

"That's the guy from the street and you're not one bit excited about it?" She raises her eyebrows again, biting her bottom lip. She's always been dramatic, I've mentioned this before. Big deals to her are small stories to me, nothing huge.

"No, why would I be?"

Ciarra leans forward, still facing me but looking past me, at the boy, "He's hot." She says, at a way louder volume than before. Shit... she practically just screamed that out loud.

My cheeks heat and I shift my body forwards quickly, staring at my feet. I look over a bit to see the guy smiling. Yeah, he definitely heard that.

Embarrassed, I brush it off, trying to act cool, like it never happened. I look up at the chalkboard reading "chapter 14, volume one". I looked down at the book, pressing the pages together to find what we're supposed to be focusing on. After suffering one of the most embarrassing moments of my life, reading is the least I can do for myself. And looking to my side, Ciarra is nothing short of amused by this whole thing. Classic... ugh. 

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"Remember than any papers that weren't turned in today will be marked late!" Prof. Rostire yells as the class files out. Ciarra walks beside me, "And I said, 'Tell that to your wife.' and woo, he did not like that!" She laughs and I laugh along, at her story of the rude highschool teacher who still stalks her.

"You're the chick that crashed into me, right?" I voice says, I stop, turning around. The guy stands there, looking down at me. I didn't realize how tall he really was. His arms are crossed against his chest and his smile is smug.

"That's me." I say awkwardly, sucking in my bottom lip.

"See, I knew I recognized you. You look-"

Before he can finish, Ciarra yells over us, "I've got some shit to do so you two have fun!" She smiles at me, bumping my shoulder. And before I can say anything, she walks again.

Oh no, no, no, no, no... I mean, I'm okay with interacting with people when Ciarra is by my side but... alone? Yeah that's one maze I've yet to conquer. I look down at my feet, picking at my nails.

"So you're one of those people?" The boy says, scoffing. Everyone has left by now, and it's just the two of us... standing in the hallway... alone.

I swallow the growing lump in my throat and raise my eyebrows, "What do you mean?" I say it quietly on purpose, hoping he wouldn't hear me and leave. But that's not normal anyways.

"One of the people that talks about someone with their friend but doesn't have the guts to say it to their face." he clicks his tongue as I look up at him. He's staring into my soul, how is he comfortable looking a stranger in the eyes?

I blink, "No, well-" I pause, catching myself, "It's not like I was talking bad about you." I spit out, hoping to at least save myself. I'm talking to someone I don't even know, alone, for the first time in forever and I've already made a bad impression... great.

He leans in, smirking, "This doesn't work, you know," He pulls at the fabric on my shirt, looking back like he's disgusted, "you should dress for your body." and with that, he lets go of the fabric and pushes past me, walking away.

"Excuse me?" I turn around, watching him walk out. My jaw is to the floor. I'm stunned, honestly, to have a complete stranger comment on my body. What an ass.

He turns to me, walking backwards down the hall. He shrugs, "Just sayin', Beck, no harm done!"

I gasp, "You ass!" I yell, throwing my hands down. He just chuckles, turning the corner. He just chuckles... chuckles at me. God, now I know why I don't talk to people. And how the hell does he know my name?