Him and Me.

Him and Me- Three.

Listening to Cynthia talk and gush about Colby Mariano was like music to my ears. Oh yes, it was like bad rap music that almost made my ears bleed, or a cat's nails against a chalkboard. I tried really hard to block her voice and to not listen, but when Cynthia Masters talked, you have no choice but to listen. She would get in your face and annoy the crap out of you. What made the situation worse was that her cheerleader friends all joined in the talk, asking questions like how hot Colby Mariano was, commenting on how sexy his name sounded, why he moved here to Chicago, etcetera. I was surprised they had not yet caught a glimpse of the "hot piece of man meat" (Cynthia's words, not mine). Their hot guy radar must be broken or something. Kyle and the other jocks tried to cut in to get them to stop talking, but it was no use—they were absolutely no match against the cheerleaders. Why they even tried, I had no idea.

So when the bell rang, signaling lunch’s end, I felt sheer happiness flooded my whole being. I stood up, and with Cynthia blurting out “He’s a god!” one more time (she said that about fifty times already), she sprang up her seat and gave me a hug. I rolled my eyes as I hugged her back. Last time I checked Cynthia didn’t even believe in a god. I waved to the other people at the table, and proceeded to walk to my next class.

I barely made it out of the cafeteria when I heard someone called out my name.

“Kayla!”

I turned and saw Kyle jogging towards me. I raised my eyebrows. “Hey, Kyle. This isn’t the way to your class, is it?” I asked while adjusting the strap of my bag on my shoulder. He was a junior too, but I had not once seen him walk this way after lunch time.

He shook his head and fell on a step beside me. “Nope,” he said. His right hand clutched a notebook while his left was inside his jeans pocket. I noticed how his strides were slow and sure, but very confident. It was so manly, I thought.

“You have some business with the principal?” I asked. We were going to pass the office to my next class anyway.

Kyle smiled and shook his head again. “Nope,” was again his reply, popping the "p."

I looked up at him, my eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “Okay…” my voice trailed off. Now I understood why Tyler sometimes calls me Tiny. My five-foot-three frame was comparatively small to Kyle’s six-foot-two. I felt like a midget walking next to him. See I never really thought I was “tiny.” Yes Tyler was taller than me, but he was just around five-foot-ten or so, so I never really felt that small. Well now… What a revelation. 

Kyle let out a chuckle. “Why, can’t I walk you to class?” He asked looking back at me with his pearly whites in view, eyes all sparkly. How his head was nodded down to look at me cemented that fact that yes, I was short. Plus for every stride of his long legs, I'd have to take three steps. Curse them long legs. 

I just shrugged, but deep inside I couldn’t help but feel surprised. “You’re going to be late,” I pointed out as I pulled on my ponytail, tightening it. “Plus I am perfectly capable to getting to class by myself, unharmed and in one piece.”

You could just imagine my mortification when I tripped over my untied shoelaces, right after I said those words.

What a perfect moment for my clumsy side to surface.

Luckily Kyle caught my shoulders before my face becomes friendly with the floor. His grip on my shoulders were firm, but it did not hurt that much. I was sure that falling flat on my face on the floor was going to hurt much much more than a firm grip of humongous hands on my shoulders.

“You okay?” He asked, concerned. He was trying to stifle a laugh though, and my face was now burning with embarrassment. He loosened his hold on my shoulders, his palms just resting gently over them.