Faking It

Chapter 10: Enter the Nickname

Text from: Jake Morris-Whittaker, 6:22 am

Ellie's Daily Reminder 8/180: You are braver than you know, smarter than you think, and tougher than you feel.

Do I need to come over there and make sure Simon isn't force-feeding you philosophy textbooks?

Wtv. I'm just trying to tell you to shoot for the stars.

Strive for your best.

Go for the gold

You know, sappy inspirational poster stuff.

Stick to your day job

Rude

~*~

Wednesday afternoon, I chewed my thumbnail as I studied Theo's text for the zillionth time. It glared up at me from beside my history textbook, half hidden by my notes so the prowling study hall supervisor wouldn't see it. She paced along the aisles between the library tables, while rain pattered against the skylight overhead. Across from me, Gyeong-Ja had screwed up her face in concentration, puzzling out a French translation.

Study hall is for studying

Audra's text popped up on my phone and I jerked upright from where I'd collapsed against the table. Beside Gyeong-Ja, Audra peered at me over her copy of Hamlet. I rolled my eyes and tried to focus on the chapter I was supposed to summarize before my next tutoring session, all about the lead up to the American Revolution. It was loaded with details, like which English aristocrat had pissed off which American colonist, and I was so done with the whole thing, but there were still 30 minutes to go.

A hand splayed across the page I was squinting at, while another landed on my shoulder.

"Working hard?" William whispered, looking between the book and my notes. I hastily shifted the notebook to cover my phone.

"Always," I replied.

He smiled, then moved away before the monitor snapped at us for talking.

I couldn't help but stare after him until he took a seat at the far end of the seniors' table. When Audra cleared her throat, I tried to kick her under the table. My leg met nothing but air, which earned me a stifled giggle.

"Will you two stop it," Gyeong-Ja whispered, "You're breaking my—"

"Shh!" hissed the study hall monitor.

I bent my head over my textbook, but it was a lost cause. William's fingers had crinkled the page. I traced the indent, wondering what it would feel like to hold his hand. It was ridiculous and boy crazy and I hated myself a little bit for even thinking it, but I hadn't been able to get him out of my head for the five days since the party.

Worse, I hadn't been able to banish Theo's offer. I'd thought I'd laugh it off as utterly ridiculous when I finally got over myself and properly thought it over, but I hadn't. Because Theo had been right. William had paid more attention to me this week than ever before. Usually it was in the form of addictive little run ins, just like this one. Every time, he'd touched some part of me. My arm. My shoulder. My back. Every time, I wished he'd chat longer or linger more.

And yet, he hadn't made a move. Not even when I'd been squirming with butterflies through our entire last tutoring session, so acutely aware of his presence and the exact distance between us that I'd hardly been able to focus on history. But nothing else had happened, and I'd been left to trudge back to my dorm, deflated, when he hadn't so much as flirted back.