Down the Sidewalk

Chapter Four

"Did you get in trouble for being out past curfew?" Sherlock asked after Mr. Hooper had driven off.

"Yeah, but not a lot. He just confiscated my mobile phone for the rest of the weekend. But I have it back now."

"Oh, that's... good."

"Yeah. He was pretty mad, but I told him you and John gave me a ride, and he calmed down. He likes you."

"That's... good?"

Molly chuckled. "Yeah. I have to get to Mrs. Hudson's room before my first period class to make up a test. See you after school."

"Goodbye, Molly. Have a good day."

Molly beamed. "Thanks, Sherlock! You too."

"You've got it bad, haven't you?" John whispered in the middle of chemistry.

"What? Did I miss something?" Sherlock asked, scanning his notes. He hadn't been paying attention to the teacher, just writing down things that popped into his mind.

"'If Doctor Stamford didn't want people to know about his recent spat with Mrs. Stamford," John read quietly, "he should have at least made an effort to iron his shirt sleeves correctly.' That, okay, that is normal. But I also see: 'Must practice violin today - song for Molly?' and 'Molly has a mobile. Could I get her number? I probably could.' I mean, you go off on tangents here and there, but it all comes back to Molly Hooper."

"Don't be ridiculous, John."

"You should just tell her. I'm fairly sure she feels the same way."

"It's not that simple, John."

"It never is, is it?"

Sherlock shook his head and went back to ignoring the teacher. John didn't understand. It was bad enough that Molly had to endure the odd looks she undoubtedly got when she told others about their friendship. If they were to engage in a romantic relationship, would the odd looks evolve into muttered insults or barely-contained laughter? Sherlock couldn't subject Molly to that. As much as the sensation was unfamiliar to him, he cared for her too much.

If Molly was put through anything half as bad as what was forced upon Sherlock, he didn't think he would ever forgive himself.

"What happened today?" Molly asked, smiling. Her arms were laden with books, their weight nearly toppling her over.

"Nothing of any interest," Sherlock replied. "And you?"

"I got a B on my history test."

"That's good, right?"

"No! I studied all week for that. I completely blanked on four questions, I think."

"Oh. Do you, er, want me to carry those?"

"No, no, it's okay. It's only the three of them," Molly replied absently. She worried at her bottom lip with her teeth.

"Are you wearing lip gloss?" Sherlock questioned. He looked quizzically at Molly's lips and blushed before tearing his gaze away. "You weren't this morning."

"I, uh. Janine bought some for me. She said I needed to- well. I knew it looked stupid; I should've taken it off."

"No," Sherlock said, nearly choking on the word. "No, you- it looks fine."

It looked more than fine, Sherlock decided. Molly's normally bare lips shone pink in the sunlight, and Sherlock swore he could see what looked like glitter. He cleared his throat, feeling the tips of his ears burn.