He stood. "Come on. Let's get on with the project."
I was glad for the distraction.
The was a burst of silence.
I heard him sigh. "What do you want to do?" he asked. "What format?"
"A poster would be nice," I replied. "But we'd need a whole lot of card for that."
"Or just this." He walked across the room and beside his table, picked up a roll of card. "I figured you'd say that so I picked this up."
He removed the elastic band and rolled the card flat on the floor.
I grinned. "This is great."
He grinned back. for a moment it was wierd that we weren's arguing about what we had to do or making snide comments. We were just...getting along. But I brushed that aside quickly. It would only be for today. At school everything would go back to normal.
Why was there a small pang in my chest?
"So," he said. "Geometry."
"How about," I said, "You start from that side, and I start from this side," I gestured. "You write about straight lines, and I write about circles. And in the end we meet in the middle and show how you get the equation of a circle from the formula of the distance between two points."
"That," he commented, "is a good idea."
****
We worked in silence. There was nothing to say. We didn't finish though. I left his house at six in the afternoon; I would come next week so we could complete the assignment.
I walked home. The tears could have come out, but I forced them in.
I like him. I fricking like him. I was pissed off that it was true. But I didn't understand why. He teased me. He pushed me down. He acted as if I was nothing. He called me prude. How could I like someone like him?
Even though, when he grinned, it could light up a whole room. He always let me go into the classroom first, there were always the banters that we had that always left me smiling...and not just because I had proved him wrong, but because I'd had his undivided attention for a few minutes.
Now the tears came. I really liked him. My heart body and mind craved him.
Geez. He was right. In my dream and in reality:
I wanted him.
****
The chapter was really short, but what did you think?
vote, comment, fan !!!
x Tolulah Loud
YOU ARE READING
Prude
JugendliteraturNOW COMPLETE Denise Prane is a senior. So is the bane of her existence, Hunter Williams. It's a mutual hate thing. He calls her "prude" because she doesn't act the way he expects girls to act, you know, rubbing herself up on guys. She can't stand hi...