Only, Always, and Forever You

4 - Smile

Cole's POV:

I'm almost at the library when a hand wraps around my arm and pulls me into an empty classroom. I'm about to lose it until I realize who it is.

"What do you want, Luke? I'm not in the mood right now," I snap, glaring at him.

"Chill, dude," he begins as he lets go of my arm and puts his hands up in surrender, "I saw how much you were in your head during Ms. Greene's class, you okay?"

Luke is my one, and only, friend. Our families had been close since before Luke and I were even born, so naturally I grew up with him. I think that's the only reason I have somewhat of a tolerance for him. But even he can get on my nerves sometimes.

"I'm fine," I growl unconvincingly, "are we in here just so you can ask me about my feelings, or what?"

"Chill the fuck out, I only grabbed you to tell you we're in a group together for the AP Lit project. Actually, one of the girls in our group reminded me to tell you."

"Cool," I scoff, shaking my head as I walk out of the room.

If it were anyone other than Luke telling me to 'Chill the fuck out,' they would have lost their head. Luckily for Luke, I don't want to kill my only friend. I just wasn't in the mood to be nice back. Plus, he should know by now that I don't give a shit about group projects.

I finally make it to the library and head toward my usual spot. It's a quiet nook, separate from the study tables in the center of the large hall and hidden by tall rows of books.

This school is old, so its library is one of those Ivy-league-looking libraries. That is probably the only thing I appreciate about this school.

The only other seats around my nook are small couches, usually used for reading. However, I don't have to worry about people using them since everyone at this school is too busy on Snapchat or Instagram to pick up a fucking book every once in a while.

I sling my backpack off of my shoulder and throw it into the nook area before walking over to one of the tall bookshelves. I scan up and down the row, looking for any decent book to keep my mind busy until I cool off.

Suddenly, I hear the library door open. I roll my eyes and start to clench my fists, angered by the fact that I cannot be alone anywhere in this God damn school.

I'm about to walk away from the shelves, grab my bag, and leave when I see a small figure walk right past me and quietly sit down on one of the couches. She didn't even realize I was here when she passed by me because she was too enveloped in the book she was reading.

I find myself oddly intrigued; she is the first person my age that I've seen actually interested in literature. I look at the book in her hands and read the title: Emma by Jane Austen.

Interested and has a good taste in literature. I'm impressed.

I find my eyes traveling from the book in her small, dainty hands up to her delicate face and hair. She has long, silky black hair, half of which is clipped up on her head with a claw-clip, further displaying her features. Her olive skin is smooth, and her long black eyelashes fan over her round, amber eyes. Her nose is sloped, and her lips are pink and full.

I catch myself staring for too long, and I shake my head as if ridding her from it altogether. I try to return my focus to the bookshelf in front of me by grabbing a random book, but my eyes keep wandering over to her, curled up on the small couch, reading.

I find myself entranced by her energy. I've never been this calm with another person in the same room as me. I'm no longer filled with rage, just curiosity and a little bit of something else, but I can't tell what it is.

I seemingly forget about the bookshelf in front of me, and, with the random book in my hand, I walk over to where she is and sit on the couch across from her.

Pretending to be interested in the book I picked, I use this as an opportunity to look at her more closely. I can see her eyes moving from side to side as she scans the page in front of her, and I watch as her eyebrows gently furrow in concentration.

I get so lost in her face that I forget about anything I've ever been angry about. I forget about 'anger' entirely.

As if sensing my eyes on her, the girl looks up from her book and glances in my direction, avoiding my eyes. She simply looks at the book in my hands and then giggles silently, trying to cover it up with her hands.

Confused, I look down at the book I'm holding and read the title: The Book of Jokes

You've got to be kidding me. Of course, the one book that I absentmindedly grab is this. Before I can get upset, or even the littlest bit annoyed, I am oddly calmed by the soft giggle that escapes her lips.

"What do you call a boomerang that doesn't come back?" I find myself reciting a joke before I can even think about it, eager to hear her laugh again.

She looks up at me and finally meets my eyes as her smile fades. When she realizes I'm asking her, the smile returns to her face and she shrugs her shoulders.

"A stick," I say stupidly. What kind of a joke was that—

The sudden sound of her sweet, innocent giggle feels like fresh air as it flows through me. I notice the corners op my mouth curl upwards, but I'm quick to catch myself and drop it before she sees.

I haven't smiled in ages, and she isn't going to be the one to change that. Right?

"I see you've got a great taste in books," she says softly, and I can't help but slightly grin. That doesn't count as a smile, right?

"Some would even say it's sophisticated," I reply, wanting to continue our short conversation.

She quietly laughs again. God, I could listen to that laugh all day.

What's happening to me? Usually laughter makes me want to throw up and die...

"I'm Amara," she says gently with a small smile.

"I'm Cole," I reply, returning the smile.

Well, I guess all of that 'I don't smile' bullshit is out the window.