❝I think you're my favorite person.❞
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Since childhood, Lila's had her mind set on what she wants. And now in her senior year, that's getting into West Michigan State University. But her overbearing...
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I'VE YAWNED ABOUT five times in the last hour.
I'm trying really hard not to make it obvious how bored I am right now, but I think Lila can tell by the sixth yawn of the hour.
She slams the textbook close and twists in her chair to face me, "You could at least pretend you're listening," she mutters, narrowing her eyes.
I place my chin into the palm of my hand and stare up at her. Her brown hair is pulled back into a low bun at the nape of her neck, only a few strands framing her face. For some odd reason, I want to touch a stray piece.
I remember Saturday night, when it had been down and flowing freely. She looked like an actual teenager at Jack Hyde's party. Lemonade spill and all.
Now she looks every bit the uptight person she is.
"I don't know if you've noticed, but history is very boring," I drawl, yawning for a seventh time. This yawn isn't due to boredom, though. This one is lack of sleep.
I had a four hour practice yesterday, then I had to pick up Grace—my little sister—from her friends' house which was an hour away, and after that I got approximately two hours of sleep. It's safe to say I'm exhausted.
She sighs, placing the textbook in front of me. "You look like a truck ran you over this morning," she says, tilting her head.
"Wow. You really know the words to make me blush," I say flatly. She smiles a little, copying my position and placing her own chin into the palm of her hand.
"Is it the quiet? Do you want to go somewhere else?" she suggests, an earnest look in her eyes.
When she had asked to meet in the library after school today, I knew I was setting myself up for failure. I don't dwell in the silence of this place—or the silence of any place, for that matter—which is why I'm hardly ever here. But I didn't want to turn her down, so I agreed.
Bad mistake on my part.
I shake my head, "No, I have to be somewhere in a little," it's not a complete lie. I do have to be somewhere, just not for a while.
"Fine," she says. "But can you try and follow along for the next twenty minutes at least?" She challenges and I nod.
It's not like I have much of a choice.
"Only if you say please," I taunt, watching her eyes roll again. "I know it's not in your vocabulary but—"
"Shut up." she smacks me with her pencil and points it down to the open page, beckoning me to read.
