Recap:
After an agonising forty minutes, the test was finished and as soon as I exited the classroom Cam rushed up to me as he planted a kiss on my lips.
And boy did it feel good.
But not as good as David's. That stupid voice in my head rang.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear.
I let go of Cam I turned around only to find David staring at the two of us with a frown on his perfect face.
What was that about?
*2014*
A small frown of my own graced my face as I saw David's. Why was mad? I thought we were past this awkwardness...That's what he told me anyways.
"Uh hey?" I greeted awkwardly waving my hand and resembling a gaping fish.
"Uh hi," David greeted back, glancing at Cam's and hand enclosed around mine. But I had to admit, Cam's hand really did fit perfectly in mine; it was like we were made for eachother, I sighed dreamily. Cam however had a bright expression on his face, as if something never happened between David and I. Right, because you didn't tell him. My subconscious reminded me. Rolling my eyes I decided to try to spark a conversation, because things were getting a bit weird.
"Soooo, how was the math test?" I asked lamely, my hand sweating in Cam's. If he did notice my sweaty hand he didn't mind because if he did he would've told me by now.
"Good, how was yours babe?" Cam asked brushing a loose strand away from my face. I blushed furiously whilst answering his question,
"I think I did alright..." I trailed off still blushing before continuing,
"How was your's David?" His jaw repeatedly clenched and unclenched, then he finally spoke.
"I did well, after all, math is my good subject," And that was the end of our conversation. Tugging on Cam's hand I tell him I have to get to my next class before my english teacher kills me. Walking my way over to class, I take my usual seat and listening intently to Ms Smith as she rambles about poetry techniques.
"Now, I want all of you to write down your poem and hand it in to me for marking," She suddenly announces glancing at the clock framed in the middle of the wall.
"Now?" An indian girl asked slouching in her seat.
"Yes now, you have ten minutes before this class ends so I suggest you make good use of this time." Ms Smith comments as all of us rustle to get our books and begin writing. I prefer typing my stories but writing with pen and paper feels so natural. Putting my mind in 'poetry' mode I write a rhyming poem, dedicated to Cristina nad her minions.
" Bullies are hyenas,
Always laughing and snickering about,
chasing after prey with their blabbermouth.
They crawl around from place to place,
seeing what is near.
All their prey hide away for hyenas are always feared.
Bullies are hyenas, ruining everyone's day."
Reading over my poem I decide I am happy with it and hand it over to Ms who happily accepts it and on goes the bell, recess has started.
"Sammy, Sammy! Can you tell me why David is acting all weird?" I quickly ask her, munching on my Uncle Toby's oat bar.
"Most probably because he like you," She mumbles under her breath casting her eyes down. What is wrong?
YOU ARE READING
Youth Group *COMPLETED* #Wattys2016
Teen Fiction❝"May," He whispered; his eyes flitting to my lips. I licked them. And then, as if time went slowly we moved closer together, his minty breath fanning my face. Just as our lips connected a jolt of electricity went through me. However, fate...
