He lowered his head towards me, a cocky grin spreading across his lips as he raked his eyes across my body before landing them back on mine.
I clicked my tongue in annoyance before averting my eyes, ignoring the blush that threatened to run across...
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CHAPTER FOURTEEN WICKED WITCH!
HAVE YOU EVER JUST FELT TOO MUCH?
Feelings are truly so complex to the point that humans, as a society, have decided to break them down into the simplest words. They've glued a random word to that emotion that rolls in your stomach, thumps at your brain. Sometimes this word makes it easier to understand what you feel, at other times it makes it harder.
A day has passed since that moment with Theodore and I still can't bring myself to understand just what I feel. This feeling—it eats at my heart, ever so present in the depths of my mind. I can't look at him without feeling my face flush up and my heart begin to race. This persistent feeling that's been following me around as I try to accomplish my day to day tasks.
It's hard to think, to work, to breathe. I could barely get through a civilized conversation with my father as we talked over our argument without the image of Theodore flashing me a bloody grin followed by a wink repeatedly flashing in my mind. It didn't help that he's been avoiding me, hasn't even given me any news on whether he passed his History test or not.
Everywhere I look I see him. I see him in Dylan, who avoids my gaze like the plague. In Colin, who sneers at me—I return it with a vicious middle finger. Benji Kim, third on my list on who could be my potential first kiss. When I look at him—at his bleached buzz cut and bulky glasses—all I see is Theodore and I, laughing as we cross names off my list. Benji is cute, he's smart and kind, he has a cute smile and makes an effort to talk to me during our science labs—
But he's not Theodore and the realization of what my thoughts are edging on is pissing me off. Simply because I can't have a crush on Theodore freaking Camden.
I won't allow it and don't have to because it's not true—not real.
Focus on your lab, Mara.
"Dissecting frogs, never get old, huh?" Benji jokes, or tries to. I don't quite focus on what he's saying, too busy scribbling down the measurements to let out a fake laugh. Maybe it's cruel of me to use him as a distraction—as well as fail at that—but at this moment I can't bother myself to care. Too busy contemplating whether the friendship that's been thrown into my lap like a hot potato is truly a friendship or a crush teetering on disaster.
"Mhm," I send him a small smile as I place down my pencil. He's staring at me, dark brown eyes watching my every movement to the point where I don't know whether the sweat gathering in my palms means I'm nervous or that I'm getting annoyed. "Uh, you have to actually cut into the frog to dissect it . . ." I mumble under my breath, breaking him out of his trance with another awkward smile as I wait for him to pull on his gloves, safety goggles intensely pushing into my skin.
"Oh, yeah! Sorry about that," he's nervous. It's evident in the way he's looking everywhere but me and it's weird because it's making me feel giddy. I laugh, genuinely smiling at him and then he's smiling back at me, eyes crinkling at the sides and cheeks deepening in—not dimples, this is not Theodore, Mara! Luckily God has heard my desperate prayers and the bell rings just before I can open my mouth to call him what is definitely not his name.
