coast ; walker scobell

eleven.

I have formally decided that rock climbing is not for the weak. And the chalk feels absolutely horrid and I've fake-gagged like a hundred times. Lily is panting beside me, shaking her head like she'll never do this again. Walker is doing much better than us. Lily pipes up, "why don't you two try the couples challenge thing they do?" 

I spit out the water I was drinking and stare at her like she's berserk. "What? You'd be good."

I roll my eyes, looking up to see Walker must've fallen when he heard what she said. He spins around with bulging eyes, bright red. I giggle and fall back on the plush material supposed to cushion a fall, sighing. "I'm not cut out for this." 

"You used to do this all the time," both Walker and Lily point out. I roll my eyes. 

"Blah, blah, blah," I grumble. "That was history." I wipe my palm over my sweaty forehead, setting a mental reminder to treat myself to some chocolate after this. Lily was never made for match-making, such information I bestow upon her daily, but apparently she will never relent. I am forced to defend myself from her attacks. 

"I think we should go to the café," I suggest, smiling convincingly. When Lily only deadpans, I hopefully turn to Walker, who is slowly walking over us. Before I meet his gaze, my eyes slowly register him. Dragging over his toned calves; clearly so from always exercising, from always being up on his feet. Up over his shirt, sticking just so against his body, teasing his frame. Up over his face to sweep over his curls, frizzy and untamed, riddled with sweat. Down to his face, all clean lines swept with a glow of exertion. 

I nervously clear my throat, sitting up, fingers fidgeting uselessly with my socks. Rolling their hem up and down between my fingers, enraptured by them. Walker drops to sit right in front of me. "You done?" He asks, almost softly.

"Uhm - nah, I could totally..." I cut myself off, because is there any point trying to flaunt my nonexistent climbing prowess? "...use a brownie." 

He rolls his eyes before straightening back onto his feet, outstretching his hands to help me up. Glancing sideways at Lily, who seems to think she's Cupid today, I thrust forward my hands to envelop his. He steps back, pulling me to my feet. The ground is plush and set against me, and I almost stumble forward. By the grace of my stability, I do not. 

"I'm thinking a latte and a brownie slice," I muse to myself as we make our way to the lockers. I sling my jacket over my forearm and slide my feet into my sliders, socks comfortably embedded in the open-toed shoe. "No. And a... sprite." 

"As always," Lily grumbles beside me, flinging her locker closed. Walker hauls my bag onto his shoulder. "I need to pee. Save me a seat," she blows me a kiss, as if it's some super secret code that doesn't convey way more thank she thinks it does, and races off in the direction of the bathroom. 

Left in a comfortable silence, we ascend some metal stairs up to the café. Having mentally catalogued our orders, Walker points towards a low table with three armchairs and watches me go before turning to the barista. 

I flick through instagram, keeping a stoic face as my mind flutters at all of the photos of Walker dotted around. It's probably wrong of me to be stewing in my feelings so recklessly; especially when I have no idea of his intentions. 

Maybe it's a little creepy, if anything. Writing song after song about him, doing everything but speaking directly to him about my heart. But I'm also scared - I'll never factually know how he feels until he tells me, and the mere thought makes me paranoid. 

But, thinking of what happened in the studio, I can't be all that crazy. I spent the night alone poring over the whole interaction, frame by frame in my mind. Surely we were flirting, or at least a semblance of it? We were playful. He was making me blush. He seemed really desperate to know if I had been talking about him. Why?