The Flynn Effect

22 | star-crossed

Jo

I'D WOKEN UP this morning with a damp pillowcase beneath my head while the rest of my body was on fire. It felt like I'd been tossed into Dan Brown's Inferno towards the early hours of the morning but luckily enough, the glucose gel on my night desk was there to save the day.

I don't usually like lows at night or in the wee hours of the morning. For me, it feels like I've started my day on the wrong path and then just like that, the rest of my day becomes a big pile of shit. But then it got better, because while I was preparing to go and shower, my phone rang. It was Daniel Corrigan.

The hard-to-get girl facade I'd been putting on last night had been tossed to the wind when I heard his voice again. He apologized, told me he had some stuff to deal with and had totally forgotten about our plans for coffee. I appreciated his honesty and when he went on and on, it felt like I'd never been mad at him in the first place. Like a bucket of cold water had been poured over my head. And when he asked if we could do this again, sometime, I'd said yes without any hesitation.

I don't exactly remember the time I started developing feelings for Daniel but I'm certain it was around that period in junior year when he was contesting for president at the school paper. He'd submitted a piece on Gender Equality in the school paper during the campaign and just like that, I'd grown to like him even without knowing what he was like. It was the most phenomenal thing I'd ever read and it was honestly a breath of fresh air to see someone voice out views so similar to mine. Craig came in shortly after that newly developed crush and for a moment, I was blinded by the shininess that came with him, that I'd forgotten all about Daniel.

But after he left, it was restored with a vigor I didn't know I had because after the call had ended and I'd gotten into the shower, I'd been doing some thinking.
Apparently, he's had only three girlfriends since freshman year till date and I know all three of them. Maxine Ross, Hailey Javhi and Sara Melbourne. And they all share similar characteristics.

1. High on the social ladder.

2. Have a knack for writing.

3. Beautiful and dark-haired.

Which tells me one thing. He clearly has a type. Flynn had said he's interested in me—whatever that's supposed to mean— but he doesn't seem to put an effort and that's probably because I don't completely fit in his typa-girl-I-date list because I'm not popular. Not even in the slightest. And I don't really want to be. But if people think I'm with Flynn, word will get out. I'll somehow be boosted from level zero point five on the social ladder to level ten and then it would work. Now that I think of it, I'm sure Flynn probably knew this and had suggested we take it up a notch because of one of out of three of his reasons. He did mention he knew him or something. He likes girls he can see but can't touch.

The thought of the whole mysterious, quiet girl thing I've got going in school getting shattered slightly makes me nauseous and I shake my head immediately. If I really want that smart, suave hell of a gentleman called Daniel Corrigan to really notice me, then this shouldn't be a big deal. God. I scrub my face a little harder. I sound desperate.

Deciding to think of something else as I get out of the shower, my mood considerably dampens when I realize what today is and where I'm headed after breakfast. Every weekend, Talia has Eloise and Otis pick up donated books from her usual supply sites such as elderly book clubs, churches, homes and whatnot. Sometimes she does it herself but she has assigned Otis and I to do the job this weekend. And I was excited about it until she'd mentioned getting them from the library at Lakeville University. They'd offered to generously donate used literature texts to the bookstore and she'd been so excited but I wasn't. Because that meant that I'd somehow have to see Drew but I was planning a way to escape that.