deep blue eyes // Antoine Griezmann

Chapter 6 - Rachel?

On Monday, I would rather do anything but go to school. Actually, what I really would like to do is just go bury myself in a hole and never come out, but yeah, that is not going to be happening any time soon, unless I die today.

Well, actually, I wouldn't be surprised if I die today, at school on Monday. So, to look on the bright side, I might get my wish of getting buried in a hole today by going to school on Monday.

Wonderful.

Well, I walk into the building, keeping my head lowered. I wore jeans and a hoodie today, as to attract the least amount of attention possible. Apparently, though, by efforts do me no good.

Stares. Whispering. Laughing. Giggling. Someone says loudly, pointing at me, "Oh, look at Griezmann's lady over there!" with a chuckle. I don't even know who the heck the person who said it is. This really means this lie has spread.

All day, I feel sick. Just sick. Nauseous. I don't want to be here at all. Not one bit.

Gee, I really am putting the 'crush' in crush.

All day, I am absolutely dreading Health class. But, of course, much to my dismay, it comes. That's just the way time work, unfortunately. And right when class begins, Mr. Levine says, "Okay, everyone, get with your partners and work on your projects together."

I watch as Griezmann turns around, sitting in the same way he did yesterday, except this time leaning his arms on the back of the chair, and his cheek on his arms.

Despite it all, I can not help but notice how cute he looks.

"So, Prefect. I guess we ought to do some research."

"Yeah, I guess so." I pull out a notebook and say, "I will write information down. Unless you have better handwriting than me?"

"No, I likely I don't. My handwriting sucks."

"So I guess that makes two of us. Mine sucks, too." I flip to the next page in my notebook regardless and write on the first blue line:

Information about exercise 4 health project

We work quietly and efficiently for the whole class period, staying very serious, and not straying to any other topics but health.

Then, it is over, just like that, and class is dismissed. I watch as Griezmann makes his run for it. I can relate, though. I really just want to get out of this trash dump, too.

Before I can escape, though, Rachel meets me by my locker. I stare at her, having no idea what to say. I mean, the nerve, to just walk up to me like this, after all she's done.

"What?" I demand rudely.

"I am sorry, okay? I did not know Baylee would post it like that, for everyone to see, on all her social media. Trust me, I have already talked with her about it."

I roll my eyes. "Did she take it all down?"

"Yeah, she did, after some convincing. She, like a lot of people, think it's just all some big old joke. I do have to admit, it is pretty funny."

I glare at her, but simply say, "So, why did you think that we and Griezmann did that?"

"What do you mean, why did I think that? Isn't it true? Or are you going to lie about it even more?"

I sigh in exasperation, glancing at the tiled floor of the high school hallway below my feet. "I am not lying, Rachel. We did not do anything. What on earth led you to think that?"

"On Friday night, you were on the phone with him. I knew it was his voice, but you made sure he did not say his name, and you lied, saying we didn't know him and that it wasn't Griezmann. You were very quick about making sure you hung up right away, and you were nervous about it, too. But before you could hang up, he did ask one question. He asked something like, 'What did you get?'. So, obviously, by those signs, what do you think any intelligent person would assume?"

"That is just stupid, Rach! Why on earth would I be planning on sleeping with Griezmann? I have never shown any interest in him!"

"Then what was that conversation about?"

I sigh. "It was about the Health project. He gave me his number so we could talk about what we wanted to do, because we did not have enough time to decide during class on Friday."

"So, why did you not tell me and Eliza that, then, in the car? What was the big secret?" She leans her hip on the locker next to mine.

I sigh. I can not lie more, for my sake, and for Griezmann's sake. But obviously I can not trust her, either. She might go telling Turner all the juicy news.

But if Griezmann already knows that Turner posts lies, maybe he wouldn't believe another one. So I say, "Listen, Rach, it was all done selfishly. I'm going to tell you this, but you have to promise not to tell anyone."

"'Kay? I won't."

"Not even Turner."

"I won't."

"'Kay, I like Griezmann. A lot. And I have since last year. I really like him. Getting his number was really exciting for me, and I knew if you knew that I was on the phone with him, you'd want his number, too, but I didn't want you to get it, because of jealousy, and knowing that you like him, too. That's the reason."

She stares at me, then starts giggling.

"What?" I glare.

"This all happened because you didn't want me to get this stupid number?"

I clench my teeth. "I didn't know it would escalate this much," I mutter.

She snorts, looking me up and down, as if I'm lower than her. She's done this a few times to me before, and I absolutely hate it. Then she turns and walks away, swaying her hips and saying, "Well, see you later, Sage. Have a nice night!"

I stand there for a few seconds confused.

Why didn't she ask me for his number?

What the heck?

What the heck is wrong with Rachel?

~Author's Note~

What's a lion's favorite footballer?

Lionel Messi.