The next day in school, I was still thinking about what happened yesterday. I don't usually let my guard down around guys, excluding my brother. During Geometry, we didn't talk much since I only gave him short answers or insulted him. So, he flirted with other girls in our class. Walking to my usual spot outside for lunch, I noticed a familiar golden-brown haired boy sitting on my bench. I stayed still, debating whether I should go to the library or sit next to him. Before I could even leave, he turned around and gave me a bright smile as if he was excited to see me.
"Are you going to sit with me or keep checking me out over there?" the cheeky bastard said.
"Neither, I'm going to the library." I said, turning to leave. Before I could reach the door, he runs over to me and holds my hand. I turn around to tell him to let go of me until I looked into those hazel eyes of his. They turned brown whenever he's being sincere.
"I'm sorry, Ivy, can you sit next to me?" James asked.
"Ok." I answered. Happy that I said yes, his eyes showed a mixture of green, yellow and brown. It's weird how his eyes change color to match his emotions, And for whatever reason, whenever I look into his eyes, I feel safe and calm. James leads me to the bench while holding my hand. When we got to the bench, I pulled my hand out of his grip and sat down. Then he sat down next to me and gave me a gleaming smile.
"How's your leg?" He asked, worried.
"It's okay, nothing major like stitches." I assured him.
"That's good, wouldn't want you to go to a party injured." He smirked.
I gave him a confused look about what he said. "I'm not going to a party," I stated, confused.
"Well, this girl named Blythe Richardson invited me to her Sweet Sixteen and said I could bring a friend." He explained. I should know since we used to be best friends. On her thirteenth birthday, her parents rented an elephant for an India themed party. We were like twins, except the fact that she's a brunette and I'm a blonde. We used to tell each other everything, from boy trouble to family issues. But during eighth grade, we drifted apart because her boyfriend Jake flirted with me at Luke Winston's End of the Year Party. I told her that he was a douche, and he turned it around saying 'I put the moves on him.' Ever since that day, all the girls ostracized me so they wouldn't feel the wrath of Blythe Richardson. Don't let the name fool you, that girl is a she-devil in sheep's clothing.
"So do you want to go or not?" He asked impatiently.
"Not." I replied, taking a bite out of my sandwich.
"Please? I don't know anyone else here except you."
"Oh really?" I inquired skeptically.
"Okay, I do know a bunch of people here, but I still want you to come to the party." He admitted.
"I don't like parties, it's a stupid excuse for teens to get drunk."
"You watch too much TV." He chuckled.
"And you don't watch the news," I retorted.
"What kind of teenager watches the news?" He argued.
"An awesome one" I answered. He shook his head and laughed. His laughter is like a disease, because seconds later I started laughing.
"You're pretty when you smile, sweetheart." He complimented. Why do boys always ruin a special moment? Just because of that, I punched him in the shoulder as hard as I could.
"I'll go to the party," I said, pausing, "only because I'm the 'only person you know'" I continued, laughing at him wincing.
"Really?" He asked, smiling.
"Really," I smiled.
"Shall we go, bestie?" James asked, holding out his hand.
"We shall." I answered, pushing his hand aside, and getting up.
Unaffected by the rude gesture, James walked beside me while making jokes about how boring I am. I guess you can say this is the start of a dysfunctional friendship.
