"Just Friends."

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Four. 

            On Monday’s Justin had Biology from ten to eleven and normally he likes me to meet him after class so we can hang out some more so I decided to waste some time since it was only ten fifteen and headed over to Starbucks so I could get my usual – a chai tea – before I headed into the library to study for my literature essay. It’s been driving me crazy and I’m the biggest procrastinator known to mankind so of course it’s due in two days and I haven’t written a single word down. It’s not my fault though when Justin always distracts me.

            Last week when I had to go back over to Justin’s house so I could sleep with him I’ve never been so scared in my entire life. It’s not like I’m attached to him yet or that I’m addicted to him I don’t think it’s just that I love being around him and I love spending my time with him. Being in love with him isn’t a question but the matter of fact is that he is more in love with me than I am in love with him and as he’s trying to take things fast I’m trying to slow them down but it’s like I couldn’t. When I crawled into my bed in the dorms that night and he wasn’t there to look at and he wasn’t there to hold it felt like a piece of me was missing and I’ve never felt like that before. I’ve always been independent and I’ve always kept my distance from people but I can’t with him because he’s already marked his spot. He’s already here.

            Opening up the door to the library, I made my way past the endless amount of bookshelves towards the back until I found an open table and sunk down into the chairs so I could get to work. I have to keep my mind off of Justin for the sake of my grades because if I don’t do well and if I god forbid fail one test I will be off the deans list and I can kiss my scholarship goodbye. There is no way in hell I’m taking any chances.

            For the next half hour I indulged myself in reading about famous poets to try and find one to write about and finally decided on Edgar Allan Poe after I came across a poem that shockingly moved me more than I thought it would. It was a perfect one for me and I could interpret it extremely well and writing an essay to relate it to my life would be more than easy. Easier than I thought it would be so I began to write and just as I was halfway through writing the first line of the poem, someone sat down across from me and I lifted my head up only to see a familiar face, one that I’ve seen around a couple times before but couldn’t put my finger on a name.

            “Can I help you?” I asked rather irritatingly. It’s not that I was trying to be rude but you don’t exactly just sit down at an empty table when there are plenty others to sit at.

            “Sorry for interrupting.” He apologized, sending me a warm smile. “I’m in your Literature class with you and I just figured I’d ask if you happened to know when it was due? I completely forgot to write it down.”

            “Oh um, yeah. It’s due on Wednesday. You haven’t started yet either?”

            We both laughed and he helped himself, reaching into his backpack and lying a notebook out in front of him so he could flip to an empty page. I wasn’t exactly expecting to have a study partner but I didn’t mind I guess.

            “I guess you could say that, yeah. I’m not really good at the whole English thing and never was. When I heard Ms. Evans speak the word poets I completely lost interest.”

            “Some poems are actually very good you know. Not all of them are boring.”

            “Maybe. Rumor has it you’re extremely smart so if I beg and plead is there any chance that you could help me?”