Call Me Romantic (BxB) [BEING REWRITEN]

Chapter 4

{ꔫ NASH ꔫ}

Nash strolls into the cafeteria, his blue hair messy, and wearing the same type of clothes as yesterday. A hoodie and sweatpants-different ones, of course. He's lazy but not that lazy. Nash doesn't try hard in fashion, though he would like to one day.
He has a small bruise under  the corner of his eye to his nose due to Sam. He never would’ve guessed how much it hurts to get punched by a muscular dude.

When he gets to his circle's lunch table, everyone is already there. Nova, Val, Mark, Ophelia, and Sam Carter. Sam doesn't sit here, ever. He normally sits with a bunch of sports bros who still act like 13-year-old boys. You know, the ones who act gay but get offended when you call them gay. They can be caught twerking on each other or dry humping and say ‘it’s not gay.’ Somehow those men have girlfriends.

Val is talking to Sam in a quiet voice about something serious, and Sam looks intimidated. It reminds Nash of when Ember would get so angry at people she would start talking lowly, calmly, almost daring anyone to protest her further. It's a bit funny to see someone way taller than Val look so scared. Sam is about 6'2 meanwhile Val is 5'4. He could just kick her if he wanted. But he doesn't. He's listening and nodding in response.

Yet again, Val is like a teacher or mom that you do not want to fuck with. Nash stops in front of his lunch table, and everyone looks up at him. Sam looks away quickly, wincing for whatever reason. Nash feels like his heart is beating 100 mph. He's not sure if it's because he still has some lingering feelings about Sam or if he's just angry at him because of yesterday.

Val grins at Nash and gestures for him to sit down next to Sam. Which would be across from her, where he normally sits. "What the.." Nash's voice trails off, and they all sit there in silence. Sam is keeping his eyes locked on the table, and his leg bounces slightly up and down.

"I should go," Sam cuts in urgently, and he grabs his phone, shoving it into his black winter vest. He then grabs his book bag and leaves the table before going back to his Fruit Fest table of jock guys. Nash's eyes don't leave him as he does so.

Sam sits down in an empty seat with a tray of school food. His leg still shakes but he forces it to press against the floor when one of his friends notices.

"Val," Nash grumbles, turning to his sister, annoyed. She did something; he just knows it. Every time Nash got bullied or even a little offended by someone, Val would hunt them down like a wild dog. She doesn't let anyone disrespect loved ones. Nash sometimes wishes she would do the same for herself. Nash likes that she cares, but she can get so overprotective.

So Nash tries his best to avoid telling her when someone pisses him off. Plus, he hates to admit it, but he feels bad. Even though it was Sam's fault for punching him. Nash did break his lacrosse stick and then said it was no big deal. Yeah, not a good idea Nash. He notes to himself to not be so damn selfish next time about that.

"Nash," Val replies with a smug smirk on her face. She has light makeup that matches her red crop top. Her pink lip is curled on one side and one eyebrow is raised giving him a confident stare.

Nova, Nash's best friend, lifts her eyes from her notebook as her blond and brown braids flow over her shoulder. "She made him owe you something."

Nash groans and tilts his head up in annoyance. Of course. Now he's going to have to have more conversations with Sam. Nash finally sits down in his seat next to Nova and across from Ophelia, Val, and Mark. Nova is on his right and next to him is an empty seat. Mark is not paying attention as he types something on his phone and smiles softly. He is paying no attention at all to the drama right in front of him and Val.

"Owe?" Nash's eyebrows frown. She's trying to fix things that don't need to be fixed. Nash knows he doesn't need a deal with Sam. He would rather just never talk to him. There are too many things Sam doesn't know and too many things Nash does. For example, drawing him in sketchbooks and sometimes even homework. Those sketchbooks are now hidden in his drawer.