Midnight

3

Yesterday Everett Forest spoke to me for the first time in almost three years.

It was almost funny, watching a jock fumble around the studio. Almost. If not for the memories that resurfaced in his presence, maybe I would've been happy with our interaction.

Well, not that I was upset with his behavior, no, but rather the fact he chose to ignore me for two years, despite sharing an English class together our junior year.

I was aware he's not obliged to talk to me because of what happened freshman year, but an explanation sure would be great.

Or was this his truce? Finally talking to me? Or did he do so only so he could get my help? Will we pretend we never shared a conversation when we see each other next period?

Just as the thought startled me back into motion, the bell rang. I was so ready to leave this dreaded chemistry class, but suddenly anxious to go to the next, English.

I lazily packed my belongings back into my bag, sliding around the desk and through the door. Though I don't like to admit it, I swayed slowly down the fourth hall, wasting time. 

I'm sure Everett wouldn't glance my way, he wouldn't acknowledge my thoughts during group discussions, but what if he did choose to notice me today? I'm not so sure which thought I disliked more.

I knew part of me craved his attention, but the other is so frustrated with him over the events that transpired during freshman year.

I stood in the second hall now, convincing myself to enter the English room. My stomach was twirling into knots.

I let out a big huff and reached for the door handle.

Seventh period English consisted of only the best; the brainless jocks who ride off of the work of others. Elizabeth– a shy girl I've grown to like– and I were trapped in their mess every day.

The classroom was disgustingly muggy, the jocks were yelling over one another as Mr. Lindsay fought with his window in an attempt to open it. I didn't bother looking in Everett's direction.

I shuffled between the rows of desks, fighting my way between the boys to the front. There's five columns of desks, and to my distaste, I'm placed in the very front. There's one boy directly to my left, and three others on the right. Elizabeth sits behind me, and I wish so desperately I could replace the boy to my left, Damon, with her.

And, thanks to my luck, Everett's been placed on my right. He's somehow managed to ignore my being this school year, but isn't that difficult when I'm literally next to him for an hour? Not for him I suppose.

I found my seat, beginning to unpack my chromebook, along with my notebook and a pencil. I risk a quick glance in Everett's direction, and, like usual, his back is towards me. He was turned completely in the opposite direction, exclaiming to his football friends.

Mr. Lindsay's lecture started, and though Everett's banter had silenced, he still shifted his body away from me, refusing to face me. I tried to peek through my hair at him.

He was wearing his leatherman jacket, his raven hair climbing over the collar, each strand dancing in waves.

I was tempted to reach out and touch it—if he weren't such a jackass.

My gaze poured down his body, and I tried to hide my grin when I saw his signature worn out converse. He always loved his plain converse, even before he became a jock.

Our teacher was done with his instructions, and left us free to work on our own or in pairs. I was about to twist around in my seat and ask Elizabeth to be my partner when Damon started speaking.

"C'mon, Celi," He turned in my direction, leaning towards me. "Won't you be my partner?"

I scowled at his iceberg blue eyes. He looked like a snake. "Don't call me that," I murmured and turned to face Elizabeth.

"Don't be such a bitch," Damon practically spit at me.

"I'm sorry you can't accept denial," I said quietly and gently, shaking my head in disbelief. Elizabeth was hiding her grin with her hand, her fingers pressing against her lips.

"Denial? I don't deal with denial. And when I do, I can always force my way into girls p–" Damon's voice raised in volume and violence, but he was interrupted by a loud, heavy huff.

I turned my head in the direction in which the sound came, only to be met with the very last thing I've ever wished to see.

Everett's furious eyes.

He was glaring through his lashes so fiercely, I wondered if the pools of blue in his irises would go up flames.

But, he wasn't not looking at me, no, he was almost looking through me. Directly at Damon. He focused on him so intensely, as if I weren't placed between the two.

"What's your problem, Forest?" Damon's face scrunched.

"You," He fumed.

Everett's gaze shifted onto me for the first time in this class. His jaw locked harshly, and I felt as though I was trapped in the anger his entire body exuded. I couldn't look away from him. And for a moment I considered the possibility of his comment being directed towards me. Because of the rage in which he was glowering at me with, I don't find it completely unbelievable.

Just as quickly as he had caught me in his stare, he turned back to his previous position.