The Choices We Make

Chapter 8 - Change of Scenery

My hands glide across the cold metal surface of the bleachers, relishing in the tranquil atmosphere surrounding me. I close my eyes as my hair whips across my face, mimicking the graceful sways of the vibrant green leaves with gold encrusted tips as the late September breeze passes through the trees.

On any other day I would have gladly enjoyed my tuna fish wrap and homemade chocolate chip cookies in the overcrowded, boisterous cafeteria. But today, I felt like having a change of scenery, some peace and quiet. However long that may last.

I never knew how much I needed the silence. Never knew that the stillness in the air could cause time to stop, cause racing thoughts to slow down. Never knew it could make you so attuned to your own body. Like how tight and tense and rigid my shoulders really are. How there's a dull pain coiling around my waist from my skinny jeans cutting into my skin. I've never noticed it until now.

I'm so lost in my own world, that even in the noiseless environment I fail to notice the sound of his boots booming against the metal slab. The rustling of his jacket as he sits beside me.

"I found you."

Panic sets in as I stare into his hazel eyes. I had completely forgotten about him. About the boy who had somehow turned my stomach into mush by one touch of his hand. The boy who is now sitting dangerously close to me. Close enough that I can see the light freckles dusting his nose and high cheek bones. The slight scar right above his left eyebrow. The tiny flecks of gold shimmering in his eyes. The sharpness of his jaw. The pinkness of his plump lips.

He clears his throat. "I believe these belong to you."

I glance down at the large textbooks he's taking out of his bag. Apparently, I had forgotten about those too. I never use them anyway.

"Uh, thanks."

I take the books from his grasp and discreetly begin to ease my leg away from touching his, desperately trying to put as much space as possible between us. He was too close for comfort.

"Carrie," he pauses to look at me, a cheeky smile on his face. "That's your name, right?"

I furrow my eyebrows, confused at how he could possibly know that.

"That guy was screaming after you in the halls the other day like a banshee," he answers my unspoken question. "By now the whole school probably knows your name."

I shake my head and laugh at his accurate description of Matt's blaring voice. "My name's actually Carys. Carrie is my nickname." But I don't tell him it's only reserved for Matt.

"Carys," he says, testing my name on his lips. "I like it."

I smile at the boy sitting beside me, baffled at why he was still here making small talk with me. Why he hadn't just dumped the books on the seat and walked away. Why he hadn't left them in the office at the 'Lost and Found'. Why he had kept them all this time.

But a part of me is happy he did. That I'm being noticed by someone so out of my league it almost feels surreal. That he chose to sit next to me, out in the crisp September air, when he could be inside; warm and surrounded by girls who would most likely be vying for his attention.

"Have you eaten?"

"No, not yet." As if on cue, my stomach rumbles beneath my maroon sweater and I send a sheepish smile his way. "I'm actually waiting on my friends. They were supposed to be here a while ago, but I guess they had other plans."

'Like making out in the janitor's closet.'

"I'll eat with you if you want," he says, popping the lid off the container in his hands before I can give my response.