Aadhi, Dahlia, and Kiara all had to go to their own classes, so I'm stuck roaming the crowded mess of hallways myself. Furrowing my eyebrows, I glare intently at the pale yellow sheet of paper to find room E626 for my ELA class.
After about a minute of panicked searching, I find a large room with dingy lighting and a bookshelf filled with books. Just what an ELA class should be.
Being the A-plus student I am, I take a seat in the back of the class, rummaging through my backpack for my notebook before a figure comes and sits next to me. I glance up, meeting eyes with Hannah, who's removing her jacket to expose a sheer gray tank top. I almost immediately attempt to get out of my seat, but the ELA teacher decides at that exact moment to say, "OK, everyone, these will be the new seating chart for the next few weeks, so make yourself comfortable."
I resist the urge to groan out loud, my hand gripping the edge of the desk. Of all the seats in all the classrooms in this school, she had to end up next to me? I'm not trying to be rude, but Hannah's like... a mosquito. The only difference is that she's about 10,000 times more clingy.
"Looks like we're desk buddies," Hannah says, her voice dripping with forced enthusiasm. She leans in a little too close, her heavy perfume invading my personal space. "Lucky you, huh?"
"Yeah, sure," I mumble, staring straight ahead. My focus lands on the peeling edge of the teacher's desk, ignoring Hannah's fingers casually drumming on the desk, just inches from my arm.
The teacher starts droning about instructions about an essay assignment, but Hannah doesn't seem to care. I feel her elbow nudge mine lightly, and when I glance over, she's twirling a lock of her hair, her eyes trained on me instead of the board.
"So," she whispers, leaning even closer, "...did you miss me over the summer?"
I sit up straighter, trying to subtly shift away without looking like a total weirdo. "Not really. I mean, I didn't even- I have a-"
She interrupts me with a soft laugh, placing a hand on my forearm. "Oh, come on, Theo. Don't play hard to get." Her voice gets lower, quieter. "I missed you... want to see how much?"
Her nails trail lightly against my sleeve, and I feel my entire body go rigid. What is it with her and ignoring every possible social cue? I glance desperately at the clock, praying for time to speed up or for the fire alarm to go off—literally anything to save me.
I try to focus on the teacher's monotone explanation of thesis statements, but Hannah's hand lingers on my arm like an over-friendly cat. Her nails drum against my sleeve again, slow and deliberate, and I fight the urge to flinch.
"You're so tense," she whispers, tilting her head in mock concern. "Did something happen? You know you can talk to me, right?"
"I'm fine," I mutter, yanking my arm back under the pretense of adjusting my notebook. I scrawl a random sentence across the top of the page, hoping she gets the message that I'm busy.
But of course, subtlety isn't her strong suit.
She leans closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "You know, I could help you relax. Like, after school or something. My place is just a block away from here."
Relax? I almost choke on my own breath. "No, thanks. I'm good." I quickly get a hold of myself before adding, "I have a girlfriend, by the way."
She pouts. "Theo, come on. Kiara West, of all people? She's a literal stuck-up bitch. I'm not implying anything, but..." Her fingers suddenly trail down my bicep, "If you ever change your mind about her, you come to me, OK?"
