Where Dreams Lay

[twenty two]

[twenty two] "we're not broken just bent and we can learn to love again." -pink 

    "Just a reminder, class, that you have only a few more days to complete your assignment. I hope no one procrastinated . . . because I cannot tell you how much this mark will affect your overall grade." Mrs. Tuck announces to us as she walks into the classroom. Her blonde bangs are close to covering her light eyes when she takes her stance in front of everyone.

I automatically toke my seat at the front, right next to Aiden. He's awfully quiet this morning, but considering how weird he's been acting since Friday, I kind of expected it.

I work on my own for most of the class: taking notes and keeping silent. Of course, like any other day, I feel a pair of eyes on me and my first reaction would be to look back, but I don't. My own pair of light eyes keeps focused on the notebook in front of me.

When class ends I make my way to my locker, and push my side bangs behind my ear as I walk. They never fit their way into a ponytail.

"H-hey,"

I closer my locker door and see Aiden standing there, one hand on the back of his neck, the other holding the strap of his bag.

"Hi," I say nervously, not looking at him completely.

"So how's everything been goin'? We haven't really talked much since . . ."

"It'd be best if you don't mention it." I reply, "and I'm okay. It's a bit weird walking around knowing that your mother is in a coma as we speak, but what'cha going to do about it, right?"

He studies me for a second, then one corner of his lips perk up slightly, "Your hair,"

"What about it?" I ask, pushing the topic further. Honestly, I'm dying to hear what someone thinks of it. Preferably him.

"It's, uh, different." I give him a confused look and he stutters, "But not a bad different, more like a good different—actually a great different 'cause it's up and I've never seen it up before, and I think it's . . . kinda nice."

"Um, thanks?" I clutch my books closer into my chest, not knowing what more to say.

He just stands there for a second, awkwardly smiling and looking like he's trying to make out words to say. I speak up so he doesn't have to, "Why are you acting so weird all of the sudden?"

I tilt my head when he answers, "What do you mean by, 'weird'?"

"Well the Aiden from end of grade school was a jock with cool friends and a huge ego. I always thought you were a player."

"A player? Why would you think that?" he looks confused and the only thing I could think of about is how cute he is.

"Oh I don't know, maybe the constant girlfriends you have every other month or so? Or maybe it's the cheerleaders hitting on you and your team 24/7?" I say sarcastically.

"Oh common . . . you can't be serious!" he exclaims throwing his hands in the air quite dramatically. "The only reason I've had one or two different girl—"

"One or two?" I raise one eyebrow.

"Okay, four or five different girlfriends was because . . ." he trails off, calming down and sighing.

"Because why?" I ask quietly.

He takes a few seconds to answer me, "Because maybe I was trying to get over another girl, and transferring those feelings onto someone else was the only way."